"And mind ye, I wouldn't do that but I want to hear what ye say 'bout Flea."

Avidly the woman ate the thick slice of bread and treacle, offering a bit now and then to the cat. When she had devoured it Lem spoke:

"Now wash it down with this here water and tell me yer tale--and if ye lie to me I'll kill ye!"

"I ain't a goin' to lie to ye--I'll tell ye the truth, I will!"

They both drank, the man from the bottle, the woman from a tin cup.

Presently she asked:

"Be ye goin' to marry Flea Cronk?"

"Who's been carryin' tales to ye?" shouted Lem, bounding from his chair.

"Ye better be a mindin' yer own affairs, or ye'll be havin' nothin' but bats in yer head till ye die. Scoot for hum! Ye hear?"

"Yep; but I ain't goin' jest yet. Ye want to hear 'bout Flea, don't ye?"

"Yep."

"Then set down an' I'll tell ye."

Lem, growling impatience, seated himself.

"Flea Cronk ain't for you, Lem!"

"Who said as how she ain't?" demanded Lem, starting up. The cat spat viciously, startled by the sudden movement. "I wish ye'd left that d.a.m.n cat to hum! I hain't no notion to be bit by no cat."

"Kitty won't bite ye if ye let me alone--will ye, Kitty? I ain't never afeard of nothin' when I got him with me--be I, Kitty, pretty p.u.s.s.y?"

"Stop a cooin', ye bughouse woman," snarled Crabbe, "and tell me what ye got to!"

"I said Flea wasn't for you."

"Ye lie!"

He made a desperate move toward her; but the cat rose threateningly, its hair standing on end in a mound upon the humped back. Lem fell away with an oath, and Scraggy, smiling wanly, petted the vicious brute.

"I said ye was to keep away, Lem. Wait till I get done. Flea's got to be some 'un else's, not yers."

"Who's?" Lem's voice rose; but he did not advance toward her.

"I dunno; but I seed him. He rides a black horse, and has a fine, big body and wears yeller boots. This afternoon when the day was darkenin' I saw him from the railroad bed, and I saw Flea's spirit a travelin' with him. I know that ye cared for her this long time back; but ye can't have her."

"Who be the feller?" demanded Lem, frowning.

"I said I didn't know, and I don't."

"Were Flea with him?"

"Nope; not in her body, but jest in her spirit."

"Rats! Scoot along with ye, and take yer cat and get out!"

Scraggy had not noticed the blood oozing from Lem's, cheek until she had received her dismissal. She pa.s.sed a long, red, bare arm about the animal and asked:

"Who bit yer cheek, Lem?"

"Who says it were bit?"

"I say it. I see white teeth a goin' in it. And I see red lips ag'in' it with deadly hate."

Lem glanced forbiddingly at the woman. "The bats be a comin' again," he muttered, "and there ain't no tellin' what she'll do. If it wasn't for that blasted cat, I'd chuck her in the lake!"

But he dared not carry out his threat; for Scraggy was muttering to herself, the cat rebuffing her rough handling.

In another minute she rose and made toward the steps. Her eyes fell upon Lem, and sanity flashed back into them.

"I gived the boy to the woman--with golden hair," she stammered, as if some power were forcing the words from her. "Ye would have killed him.

Yer kid be a livin', Lem!"

Truth rang in her statement, and the man got to his feet abruptly. He had almost forgotten the black-haired little boy. Only when Scraggy's name was mentioned to him did he remember. But the woman's words awoke a new feeling in his heart, and mentally he counted back the years to the date of his son's birth. Scraggy was still looking at him in bewilderment, scarcely realizing that her story had been told to the enemy of her child. She battled with a desire to blurt out the whole truth; but the man's next words silenced her.

"Who be the golden-haired woman, Scraggy?" he wheedled.

"What woman--what golden-haired woman?"

"The woman who has our brat."

Like lightning a sudden joy filled Scraggy's heart. Her benumbed love for Lem Crabbe grew mighty in a moment and rushed over her. His words were softly spoken with an old-time inflection. She sank down with a cry. She was so near him that the cat rose and spat venomously. Lem's curses brought Scraggy out of her dreams.

"Chuck that d.a.m.n cat to the bank," ordered Lem, "if ye want to stay with me! Do ye hear? Chuck him out!"

"Nope, I ain't a goin' to! I'm goin' hum."

"Not till ye tell me where the boy is. Didn't ye throw him in the river?"

"Nope."

"What did ye do with him?"

"Gived him away."

"Ye lie! That winder was open, and the river was dark as h.e.l.l. Ye throwed him in, I tell ye!"

"Nope; I gived him to a woman--"

She stopped and edged toward the stairs, all her old fear of him returning. Reaching the short flight, she bounded up, the cat clinging to her sleeve. Lem did not follow; for the crazy woman had frightened him. He stood with hushed breath, holding grimly to the wooden table. A voice from the deck of the scow came down to him.

"I gived him to a rich woman on a yacht. He's rich with mints of money.