r pappy didn't know ye were a livin' till a little
while ago, and he wants ye now."

"Were you married to him, this man you call my father?" demanded
Everett.

Scraggy shook her head.

"But that don't make ye none the less his'n, an' ye be goin' with me, ye
be!"

Everett no longer hoped that the woman was either mistaken or lying. The
stamp of truth was on all she had said. He knew in his heart that he was
in the presence of his mother--this ragged human thing with wild, dark
eyes and straggling hair. And somewhere he had a father who was as evil
as she looked. For years Everett had struggled against the bad in his
nature; but at that moment he lost all the remembrance of the lessons of
his youth, of the goodness taught him by his foster father and mother.
It flashed into his mind how embarrassed Mrs. Brimbecomb had been when
he had constantly brought up the subject of his own family, and how
impatiently Mr. Brimbecomb had waved aside his petitions for
information. They should never know that he had found out the secret of
his birth, and he breathed thanks that they were not now in Tarrytown.
Neither Ann nor Horace should ever learn of the stain upon him; but the
girl with the black curls should make good to him the suffering of his
new-found knowledge! She came of a stock like himself, of blood in which
there was no good.

Everett forgot the dripping woman before him as a dark thought leaped
into his mind. He could now be at ease with his conscience! Of a sudden,
he felt himself sink from the radius of Horace Shellington's life--down
to the birth level of the boy and girl next door. It dawned upon him, as
his mind swept back over his boyhood days, that Horace had ever been
better than he, with a natural abhorrence against evil.

[Illustration: "LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!"]

When Scraggy again spoke, he turned burning eyes upon her. How he hated
her, and how he hated the man who called himself his father, wherever he
might be! He shut his teeth with a grit, and, unmindful of the cat, bent
over Screech Owl. He forced her head so far back that she moaned and
loosened her hold upon Black Pussy, who sprang snarling into the corner.

"If you ever repeat that story to anyone, that I'm your son, I'll kill
you! Now go!"

Scraggy began to cry weakly, and Black Pussy howled as if in sympathy.

"Shut up, and keep that cat quiet! You'll draw down the servants. Now
listen to me! You say you're my mother--b