aul soon, did ye?"

"Yep; I tied up to Tarrytown goin' down. There be heaps of rich folks
there. Middy Burnes what runs the tug says as how there be a feller
there richer than the devil.... Hell! I've forgot his name!"

Lem halted on the gangplank and thought for a moment.

"Nope, I ain't; I jest thought of it!... Shellington! That's him, and
he's a fine house, and many's the room filled with--"

Lon broke in upon Lem with a growl:

"Then we'll separate him from some of his jewjaws. I bet we has a little
of his pile afore another month goes by!"

"That's what I bet, too," muttered Lem. "Night, Lon."

"Night," repeated Lon, walking away.

* * * * *

Lem placed the lantern on the table and sat down to think. Ever since
the day Screech Owl had told him of the boy he had wounded so many years
before his mind had worked constantly with the thought that he must
find the home where his son was. Scraggy was the only human being to
tell him. She must tell him! He would make her, if he had to choke the
woman to death to get her secret! He remembered how she had mocked at
him when she had told him that strange bit of news. Realizing that
Scraggy's malady made her difficult to coerce, he decided to try
cajolery at once.

Lent rose and took a bit of bread from the cupboard shelf. He slipped it
into a bag, caught up the lantern with his hook, and left the scow. He
halted in front of Scraggy's dark hut and pounded on the door. The cat,
scrambling to the floor inside, was Lem's answer. He knocked again.

"Scraggy! Scraggy!" he called. "It be Lemmy! Open the door!"

Through her deep sleep came the voice Screech Owl had loved, and still
loved. She sat up in bed, trembling violently, pushing back with a
pathetic gesture the gray hair from her eyes. She had been dreaming of
Lem--dreaming that she had heard his voice. But black pussy couldn't
have dreamed also. He was perched in the small window, lashing his great
tail from side to side. She slid from the bed, stretched out a bony
hand, and clutched the cat.

"Did ye hear him, too, black pussy?"

"Scraggy!" called Lem again, "Open the door! I brought you something to
eat."

It was the thought of the time when he had loved her so, and not of the
food he had brought, that forced Scraggy to the door. She flung it open,
and the scowman entered.

"I thought ye might be hungry, Scraggy; so I brought ye this bread,"
said Lem, lifting the hook and