Part 16 (1/2)

”The bats left her head the minute that there winder got dark!” gasped the watcher. Tremblingly she drew closer to Flukey, until sleep overpowered her.

The next day pa.s.sed slowly, the cold rain lasting until almost nightfall, and yet the children dared not venture into the town. Flea fumed and fretted; for the earning of the nickel had whetted her ambition to earn more. Now she dared not go near the river where work could be found; but she knew that as soon as the tug appeared Lem Crabbe would go to New York. Probably by this time the scow was far on its way down the river. This was the decision at which the squatter twins arrived after weary hours of waiting. So, when the twilight again fell over the dead, they rose stiffly from their hiding place and limped to the road.

”We'll go back to the graveyard tonight, if this ain't the good land,”

murmured Flea. ”We'll be safe there from Lem, Fluke.”

”Wish we was rich like we was that fair-day, Flea,” replied the boy, scarcely able to walk.

”I wish so, too. If we had that yeller gold-piece we coughed up for that d.a.m.n brown hen, we'd eat. But I'd ruther have s.n.a.t.c.het, Fluke.”

”I'd ruther have him, too; but we need money--”

”And when we get it,” interrupted Flea, ”s.n.a.t.c.het'll have a hunk of meat, and Prince Squeaky a bucket of b.u.t.termilk, and ye'll have liniment for yer legs, Fluke.”

”Ye'll eat yerself first, Flea,” said Flukey. ”I saw ye when ye give the pig a bit of yer biscuit yesterday mornin'.”

”We'll all eat in the good land,” replied Flea hopefully.

By this time they had come to the gateway and turned into the street.

Harold Brimbecomb's beautiful home was brilliantly lighted. It appeared the same to Flea as on the night before, when she had seen Scraggy make her melancholy play before it.

Flea had refrained from speaking of her midnight fright to Flukey; for he would but tell her that, like all girls, she was afraid, and a slur from her brother was more than she could bear.

Flea and Flukey had never been taught to pray, ”Lead us not into temptation.” Now, with aching hearts and empty stomachs, they turned in silence to the richly lighted houses. Flukey dragged himself resolutely past Brimbecomb's as if he would avoid the desire that suddenly pressed upon him to ply the trade in which he had been darkly instructed. But he halted abruptly before the next house, the curtains of which were pulled up halfway. The long windows reached to the porch floor. Through the clear gla.s.s the children saw a table dressed in all the gorgeousness of silver and crystal. At the spectacle a clamor for food set up in both aching stomachs, and the two pa.s.sed as if by one accord to the porch. As they peered into the window with longing eyes, Squeaky was held tightly under Flea's arm; but s.n.a.t.c.het, resting wearily on Flukey's, suddenly sat up. He, too, had scented something to eat, and thrust in and out a lean red tongue over pointed, tusky teeth.

”It's time for me to steal, Flea,” whispered Flukey, turning feverish eyes toward his sister.

”If you do it, Flukey, I'll do it with ye.”

With no more ado, Flukey's practiced fingers silently slid up the sash.

Two youthful bodies stepped through: the opening. In absolute quiet, they stood raggedly forlorn, savagely hungry, before the tempting table.

There, was plenty to eat; so without a word the squatter girl placed Squeaky before a gla.s.s dish of salad. His small pink nose buried its tip from sight, and the food disappeared into the suckling's empty stomach.

s.n.a.t.c.het, squatting on his haunches, snapped up a stuffed bird. Flea began to eat; but Flukey, now too ill, leaned against the red-papered wall.

Just at this critical moment the door opened, and Flea, greatly frightened, started back to the window. She blinked, brushed a dark curl from her eyes, and saw her Prince advancing toward her. He saw her, too; but did not connect her with the bare-footed girl on Cayuga Lake, but only with the boy who had kept from him the greased pig at the Dryden fair. He glanced at Squeaky calmly eating the salad and smiled.

”Bless my soul, Ann!” he said, turning to a lady who had followed him in, ”we have company to dinner, or my name isn't Horace Sh.e.l.lington! Why didn't you young gentlemen wait, and we should all have been seated together?”

There was a whirling in Flukey's head, such as he had never felt before; but Flea's ashen face brought back his scattered senses. He tried to lift his arm to throw it about her; but dropped it with a groan.

Realizing the agony that had swept over her dear one, Flea gathered in a deep breath and took his fevered hand in hers.

”It weren't him,” she cried, lifting her eyes to her questioner and sullenly moving her head toward the s.h.i.+vering boy at her side. ”I e't yer victuals--he didn't. If one of us goes to jail, I do--see?”

”Let me think,” ruminated Horace, eying her gravely. ”Six months is about the shortest sentence given to a fellow for breaking into a house.

And what about the pig? I see him in the act of theft. Shall he go with you?”