hut.

Lem stood wiping the blood from his face. "The cussed spit-cat!" he
hissed. "When I take her in hand--"

"When ye take her in hand, Lem," interrupted Lon darkly, "ye can do what
ye like. Break her spirit! Break her neck, if ye want to! I don't care."

* * * * *

The children found Granny Cronk with bent shoulders and palsied hands
toiling over the supper. About the withered neck hung a red
handkerchief, and on top of the few gray whisps of hair rested a
spotless cap. She grunted as the children entered the room like a
whirlwind and climbed the long ladder to the loft, where for some time
the low voice of Flukey and the sobs of Flea could be heard in the
kitchen below.

It was not until her son had entered and hung his cap upon the peg that
the old woman ventured to speak.

"Be Flea in a tantrum, Lon?"

"Yep, ye bet she be!"

"Have ye been a beatin' her?"

"Nope, I never teched her," replied the squatter; "but I will beat her,
if she don't do what I tell her. No matter how she kicks ag'in' my
notions, she has to do 'em, Granny!"

"Yep, I know that; but I asked ye what she was a blubberin' about."

"'Cause I says as how on Saturday she's got to go and be Lem's
woman--that's what I says."

"Lem's woman! Do ye mean that she's got to go away?"

"Yep, with Lem Crabbe," replied Cronk; "he's to be her man on her next
birthday. I bet he brings the kid to his likin'!"

"Lem's a bad man, Lon," replied Mrs. Cronk, "and ye be one, too, if ye
be my own son, and Flea's your own flesh and blood, and I like her. It
would be a good thing if ye let her stay to hum while I be a livin'; and
I mean what I say, and I'm yer mammy, and that's the truth!"

"Mammy or no mammy," answered Cronk sullenly, "Flea goes to Lem, and ye
makes her a pork cake, which she can hog down at one gulp, for all I
care--the damn brat! I say it, and Lem says it. He'll dry her tears
after she's left hum, I'm a guessin'!"

Seeing the futility of arguing the question, Mrs. Cronk placed the fish
and beans on his plate and, with a shrill cry to Flea and Flukey, sat
down to eat.

* * * * *

As he stumbled along the rocks to the scow, Lem Crabbe uttered dark
threats against the girl who had bitten him. Her temper and the
spontaneous deed that had marked his face did not lessen his longing to
call her his woman, nor did it take the fever of desire from his veins.
It had strengthened