moment, then began to cry and rock, beating her hands.

"Barber, ye've a right t' be killed for this!" cried Father Pat. "And
where's the lad? What've ye done t' him? God help ye if ye've worked him
rale harm!"

Cis turned her face, and spoke again. "Poor Johnnie died in the night!"
she sobbed. "He couldn't talk to me! I tried! He couldn't get water! Oh,
I want water! Give me a drink, Mrs. Kukor!"

Mrs. Kukor had risen as Cis talked, and Father Pat had come to her.
There was horror in the faces of both. Standing, his back against the
hall door, Barber began to laugh at them. "Aw, bosh!" he said,
disgusted. "Dead nothin'! He's in the big chair there. Plenty o' kick in
him yet, and plenty o' meanness!"

His lips moving prayerfully, the priest turned and looked down, then
lifted the longshoreman's coat. As he caught sight of the rope-marked
face and shut eyes of the boy, "Oh, little lad, dear!" he cried, heart
stricken at the sight. "Oh, what's the crazy man done t' ye? Oh, God
help us!"

Together, Father Pat and Mrs. Kukor brought out Johnnie's square of
mattress, dropped it beside the morris chair, and laid the
half-conscious boy upon it. Then kneeling beside him, one at each side,
they began to rub the life back into his numbed limbs. "He's breathin',
girl dear," the priest told Cis, who could not bring herself to look at
Johnnie. Mrs. Kukor said not a word. But down the round, brown face the
tears flowed steadily.

Having made a quick fire with kerosene and some kindling, Barber lounged
at the stove, warming some milk for his father, setting his own coffee
to boil, having a pull at his pipe, and keeping a scornful silence.
Grandpa's breakfast ready, he carried it into the bedroom and fed the
old man. After that, shutting the bedroom door, he helped himself to a
slice of bread and some dried-apple sauce. His manner said that a great
fuss was being made in the kitchen over nothing.

It was Cis who spoke next--when Mrs. Kukor, leaving Johnnie for a
little, came to bring the girl a drink, and bathe her face. "I'm never
going to lie down in this place again, Mrs. Kukor," she declared. "I'm
going to leave here this morning, and I'm never coming back--never! Can
you brush my hair right now, please? Because I know Mr. Perkins will be
here soon."

At that, Big Tom launched into a sneering laugh. "Oh, is that so?" he
demanded. "Fine! I'd like t' see Perkins, all right!" His great
shoulders shook, and a horrible leer