ld
high, so all could see.

He was a red-haired little fellow, white and thin of face, with
pipe-stem legs that dangled pitifully.

"I fetched him along," said Scattergood. "I wisht you'd look him over."

The audience craned its neck, exclaiming, dropping tears. The heart of
Coldriver was well protected, it fancied, by an exterior of harshness
and suspicion, but Coldriver was wrong. Its heart lay near the surface,
easy of access, warm, tender, sympathetic. "This is him," said
Scattergood.

He turned his face to the child. "Sonny," he said, kindly, "you hain't
got no pa nor ma?" "No, sir," said the little fellow.

"And you live in one of them horspittles?"

"Yes, sir."

"It costs money?"

"Yes, sir."

"How do you git it, sonny? Tell the folks."

"Sister," said the child. "She's awful good to me. When she kin, she
stays whole days with me, but she can't stay much on account of havin'
to earn money to pay for me. It takes 'most all she earns.... She's had
to do kinds of work she don't like, on account of it earnin' more money
than nice jobs. We're savin' to have me cured, and then I'm goin' to go
to work and keep _her._ I got it all planned out while I was layin'
there."

"Is your sister a bad woman?"

"Nobody dast say that, even if I hain't got legs. I'd grab somethin' and
throw it at 'em."

"Was this here sister ever one of them actoresses?"

"Once, when I was sicker 'n usual ... it was awful costly. That time she
was in a show, 'cause she got more money there. She got enough to pay
for what I needed."

"Wear tights, sonny? Calc'late she wore tights?"

"Sure. She told me. She said to me it wasn't wearin' tights that done
harm, and she could be jest as good in tights as wearin' a fur coat if
her heart wasn't bad. That's what she said. Yes, sir, she said she
wouldn't wear nothin' if it had to be done to git me medicine."

"Um!... What's this here sister's name?"

"Eva Hopkins."

Scattergood turned again toward the door. "Homer," he called, and Homer
Locker entered, almost dragging Yvette by the arm.... The congregation
heard one sound. It was a glad, childish cry. "Eva!... Eva!... Here I
am."

Then it saw Yvette Hinchbrooke wrench free from Homer and run down the
aisle to snatch the child from Scattergood's arms into her own.

Scattergood stood erect, looking from face to face in silence. It was a
full minute before he spoke.

"There ..." he said. "You kin see the evil of passin' jedgments. Y