s food seemed
a feast to him; and he enjoyed it upon the door-step with Glory at his
feet and Jocko coming in for whatever portion his master thought best to
spare.

Afterward, comforted and rested, he would have repaid his hostess by
another round of his melodies; but this, much to the disgust of seven
small lads, Take-a-Stitch prevented.

Leading the organ-grinder from the threshold of the cottage to the tree
beyond it, Glory made Luigi sit down again and answer every question she
put to him; and though he did not always comprehend her words, he did
her gestures, so that, soon, she had learned all he knew of the Lane
since she had left it until the previous day when he had done so.

First, because to him it seemed of the greater importance, Luigi dwelt
upon Toni's disappointment, and divulged the great "secret" which had
matured in the peanut-merchant's brain, and was to have been made known
to Goober Glory, had she not "runned the way." The secret was a scheme
for the betterment of everybody concerned and of Antonio Salvatore in
especial; and to the effect that the blind captain and Goober Glory
should form a partnership. She was to be given charge of Antonio's own
big stand; while comfortable upon a high stool, beside it, the captain
was to sit and sing. This would have attracted many customers, Toni
thought, by its novelty; and, incidentally, the seaman might sell some
of his own frames. As for the proprietor himself, he was to have taken
and greatly enlarged the "outside business"; Luigi assisting him
whenever the organ failed to pay.

"Money, little one! Oh, mucha money for all! But you stole the baby and
runned away," ended this part of the stroller's tale, as she interpreted
it.

"I never! Never, never, never! She was sent! She belongs. Hear me!"
cried Glory, indignantly, and forthwith poured into Luigi's puzzled ear
all her own story. Then she demanded that he should answer over again
her first question when she had met him; hoping a different reply.

"Has my grandpa come back?"

But Luigi only shook his head. Even through his dim understanding, there
had filtered the knowledge that the fine old captain never would so
come. He had been killed, crushed, put out of this sunny world by a
cruel accident. So Antonio had told him; but so, in pity, for her he
would not repeat. Rather he would make light of the matter, and did so,
shrugging his shoulders in his foreign fashion and elevating his
eyebrows indif