her for paternal recognition. Suddenly he drew away from
the kneeling girl and shrank into the corner, pressing the wall with his
great weight until the rotting boards of the shanty creaked behind him.
Only now and then was his mind equal to the task of owning her.
Gathering strength to speak, Katherine sobbed:

"Father, Father, I never knew of you until today--I didn't know, I
didn't know!"

In her agony she did not notice the fierce eyes melt with tenderness;
but Vandecar saw it with a tumultuous heart. He was waiting to claim the
little figure on the floor, that he might take her back to her mother.
In that way he would retrieve his own past errors and in a measure
redeem the misspent life of the thief. He saw Cronk smooth his brow with
a shaking hand, as if to wipe away from his befuddled brain the cobwebs
of indecision and time-gathered shadows. His lips, drawn awry with
intensity, opened only to drone:

"Pretty little Midge, I thought as how ye were dead! And ye've come back
to yer man, a lovin' him as much as ever! God--God!" He raised streaming
eyes upward, and then finished, "God! And there be a God, no matter how
I said there wasn't! He didn't let ye die when I were pinched!" With a
mighty strength he swept the girl from the floor and turned mad eyes
upon Vandecar.

"She ain't dead, Mister--I thought she were! Take back yer brat, and
keep yer boy--and God forgive me!"

So tender was his last petition, that it seemed but a breath whispered
into the infinite listening ear of the God above. Katherine, like
Fledra, had lapsed into unconsciousness.

"She's fainted!" cried Ann. "Oh, Katherine, poor, pretty little
Katherine!"

"Help her, Ann!" urged Vandecar. "Do something for her!"

He did not wait to see Ann comply; but turned to Fledra, who, still
wrapped in unconsciousness, lay crouched on the floor, her dark curls
massed in confusion. Granny Cronk's blouse had fallen away, leaving the
rounded shoulders bare and gleaming in the faint yellow light.

The father gathered the daughter into his arms with passionate
tenderness. At first he did not try to revive her; but sat down and held
her close, as if he would never let her go. Tears, the product of weary
ages of waiting, fell on her white, upturned face, and again he murmured
thanksgivings into her unheeding ear. For many moments only the words of
Ann could be heard, as she tried to reason with Cronk to release
Katherine for a moment.

"Lay her down, w