nward; next, he fell to kicking at the bottom rail
with a stout shoe.

Barber gave a quick glance round the kitchen, then went to pull aside
the bolt. "Hold on!" he ordered roughly; and as he swung the door open,
"_Nice_ time t' be hammerin' a man out o' his bed!"

There was another in the hall besides the Father--Mrs. Kukor, in her
street clothes, and wearing her best hat. Her face looked drawn, her
black eyes weary. Her hard breathing proved that she had just come up
three flights instead of descending one.

As Barber caught sight of her, he thrust his big frame into the doorway,
blocking it. "There she is!" he declared hotly. "The tattler! The
busybody! Hidin' books for a lazy kid! Helpin' him t' waste his time!
She can't come in here!"

"Stand out o' me way!" cried the Father. "I'm comin' in, and this lady
with me!"

"Don't y' try t' tell _me_ what y're goin' t' do!" replied Big Tom. "Y'
can't take the runnin' o' this flat out o' _my_ hands--neither one o'
y'! I ain't goin' t' stand for it!"

"Ha-a-a-a!" retorted the priest. "And is the abusin' o' two children
what ye call runnin' a flat? And we can't take _that_ out o' yer hands,
can't we? Well, God be praised, there's police in this city, and there's
societies t' handle such hulkin' brutes as yerself, and--_and_--!" Words
failing him, he shook a warning finger in Barber's face.

Down the hall a door opened, and several heads appeared in it. This, as
well as the priest's words, decided Big Tom (more gossip in the house
would be a mistake). He stood aside and let his visitors enter,
instantly slamming the door at their backs. "I won't have no girl out o'
this flat settin' in a park with some stranger!" he declared. "I
promised her ma I'd look after her!"

He got no answer. There being no movement in the morris chair, under Big
Tom's coat, the Father and Mrs. Kukor had rushed past it to Cis, for the
moment seeing only her. Now they were bending over her, and "Girl, dear!
Girl, dear!" murmured the priest anxiously; and "So! so! so!" comforted
the little Jewish lady.

Cis seemed not to know who was beside her. "He's dead!" she wept. "And
it's my fault! _All_ my fault! O-o-o-oh!" A trembling seized her slender
body. Once more she swayed, then toppled forward upon the table, all her
brown hair falling over her arms.

"Vot wass she sayink?" demanded Mrs. Kukor, frightened. Falling back to
the big chair, she sat upon one arm of it, stared in horror at Cis for a