in pulled into the station
before I knew it. I gave a last thought to that poor old hyena of a
Tom, and then put him out of my mind. I had other fish to fry.
Straight down to Mother Douty I went with my basket.

"A fool girl, mother, on her way up to Sing Sing, lost her basket, and
Nance Olden found it; it ought to be worth a good deal."

She grinned. You couldn't make old Douty believe that the Lord himself
wouldn't steal if He got a chance. And she knows the chances that come
butting up against Nancy Olden.

Why did I lie to her? Not for practice, I assure you. She'd have
beaten me down to the last cent if she thought it was mine, but she
always thinks there'll be a find for her in something that's stolen.
So I let her think I'd stolen it in the railway station, and we came to
terms.

With what she gave me I bought a wig. Mag, I want you some day, when
you can get off, to come and see that wig. I shouldn't wonder but
you'd recognize it. It's red, of very coarse hair, but a wonderful
color, and so long it--yes, it might be your own, Mag Monahan, it's so
much like it. I went to the theater and got my Charity rig, took it
home, and sat for hours there just looking at 'em both. When evening
came I was ready to "earn it now."

You see, Obermuller had given me the whole day to be away, and neither
Gray nor the other three Charities expected me back. I had to do it on
the sly, you sassy Mag! Yes, it was partly because I love to cheat,
but more because I was bound to have my chance once whether anybody
else enjoyed it or not.

I came to the theater in my Charity rig and the wig. It looked as if
I'd slept in it, and it came down to the draggled hem of the skirt.
All the way there I walked like you, Mag. Once, when a newsboy grinned
at me and shouted "Carrots!" I grinned back--your own, old Cruelty
grin, Mag. I vow I felt so much like you--as you used to be--that when
I lurched out on the stage at last, stumbling over my shoe laces and
trying to push the hair out of my eyes, you'd have sworn it was little
Mag Monahan I making her debut in the Cruelty room.

Oh, Mag, Mag, you darling Mag! Did you ever hear a whole house, a
great big theater full of a peevish vaudeville audience, just rise at
you, give one roar of laughter they hadn't expected at all to give, and
then settle down to giggle at every move you made?

Girl alive, I just had 'em! They couldn't take their eyes off me. If I
squirmed, they how