She
ran over in her mind the names of the several men who were fighting
her--McGaw, for whom she had a contempt; Dempsey and Jimmie Brown, of
the executive committee, both liquor-dealers; Paterson, foreman of the
gas-house; and the rest--dangerous enemies, she knew.

That night she sent for Nilsson to come to the house; heard from him,
word for word, of Quigg's effort to corrupt him; questioned Patsy
closely, getting the names of the children who had abused him; then
calling Jennie into her bedroom, she locked the door behind them.

When they reentered the sitting-room, an hour later, Jennie's lips were
quivering. Tom's mouth was firmly set. Her mind was made up.

She would fight it out to the bitter end.

VI. THE BIG GRAY GOES HUNGRY

That invincible spirit which dwelt in Tom's breast--that spirit which
had dared Lathers, outwitted Duffy, cowed Crimmins, and braved the
Union, did not, strange to say, dominate all the members of her own
household. One defied her. This was no other than that despoiler of
new-washed clothes, old harness, wagon-grease, time-books, and spring
flowers, that Arab of the open lot, Stumpy the goat.

This supremacy of the goat had lasted since the eventful morning when,
only a kid of tender days, he had come into the stable-yard and wobbled
about on his uncertain legs, nestling down near the door where Patsy
lay. During all these years he had ruled over Tom. At first because his
fuzzy white back and soft, silky legs had been so precious to the
little cripple, and later because of his inexhaustible energy, his
aggressiveness, and his marvelous activity. Brave spirits have fainted
at the sight of spiders, others have turned pale at lizards, and some
have shivered when cats crossed their paths. The only thing Tom feared
on any number of legs, from centipedes to men, was Stumpy.

"Git out, ye imp of Satan!" she would say, raising her hand when he
wandered too near; "or I'll smash ye!" The next instant she would be
dodging behind the cart out of the way of Stumpy's lowered horns, with
a scream as natural and as uncontrollable as that of a schoolgirl over
a mouse. When he stood in the path cleared of snow from house to stable
door, with head down, prepared to dispute every inch of the way with
her, she would tramp yards around him, up to her knees in the drift,
rather than face his obstinate front.

The basest of ingratitude actuated the goat. When the accident occurred
that gained him