he oilcloth.
Mrs. Egg felt entirely comfortable and real. She could hear the cook
snoring. Behind her the curtain of the pantry window fluttered. The
cool breeze was pleasant on her neck. Adam licked the spoon and said,
"Back in a minute, Mamma," as he started for the veranda door.

Mrs. Egg reposed on the ice chest thinking about Adam. He was like
Egg, in that nothing fattened him. She puzzled over to-morrow's lunch.
Baked ham and sweet potatoes, sugared; creamed asparagus; hot corn
muffins. Dessert perplexed her. Were there any brandied peaches left?
She feared not. They belonged on the upper shelf nearest the ice
chest. Anxiety chewed her. Mrs. Egg climbed the lid by the aid of the
window sill and reached up an arm to the shelf.

Adam said, "Here y'are, Mamma."

The pantry door shut. Mrs. Egg swung about. Adam stood behind a shape
in blue pajamas, a hand locked on either of its elbows. He grinned at
Mrs. Egg over the mummer's shoulder. As the woman panted sulphur
entered her throat. The lamp threw a glare into the dark face, which
seemed paler.

"Go on, Frisco," said Adam, about the skull, "tell Mamma about her
father."

A sharp voice answered, "Let go my arms. You're killin' me!"

"Quit kiddin'," Adam growled. "Go on!"

"He ran a joint in San Francisco and gave me a job after I got out the
Navy. Died last fall. I kind of nursed him. Told me to burn all these
books--diaries. I read 'em. He called himself Peterson. Left all his
money to a woman. She shut the joint. I looked some like him so I took
a chance. Leggo my arms, Egg!"

"He'd ought to go to jail, Dammy," said Mrs. Egg. "It's just awful! I
bet the police are lookin' for him right now."

"Mamma, if we put him in jail this'll be all over the county and
you'll never hear the end of it."

She stared at the ape with loathing. There was a star tattooed on one
of his naked insteps. He looked no longer frail, but wiry and
snakelike. The pallor behind his dark tan showed the triangles of
black stain in his cheeks and eye sockets.

"He's too smart to leave loose, Dammy."

"It'll be an awful joke on you, Mamma."

"I can't help it, Dammy. He----"

The prisoner figure toppled back against Adam's breast and the mouth
opened hideously. The lean legs bent.

"You squeezed him too tight, Dammy. He's fainted. Lay him down."

Adam let the figure slide to the floor. It rose in a whirl of blue
linen. Mrs. Egg rocked on the chest.

The man thrust something at