me more shoe-whitening?"

There were several ways in which to take Big Tom's mind from any
subject. The surest of these was to bring up a question of spending. And
now, answering to his stepdaughter's subterfuge as promptly as if he
were a mechanism that had been worked by a key, he turned from glowering
down upon Johnnie to scowl at her.

"_More?_" he demanded harshly.

Her blue eyes met his look timidly. Out of the wisdom of her
sixteen-year-old policy, she habitually avoided him, slipping away of a
morning to her work at the pasteboard-box factory without a word;
slipping back as quietly in the late afternoon; keeping out of his sight
and hearing whenever that was possible; and speaking to him seldom.

Cis looked at every one timidly. She avoided Big Tom not only because it
was wise to do so but because she was naturally shy and retiring, and
avoided people in general. She had a quaint face (framed by straight,
light-brown hair) that ended in a pointed, pink chin. Habitually she
wore that expression of mingled understanding and responsibility common
to all children who have brought up other children. So that she seemed
older than she was. But her figure was that of a child--slim, frail, and
still lacking a woman's shapeliness, notwithstanding the fact that it
had long carried the burdens of a grown-up.

Facing her stepfather now, she did not falter. "Yes, please," she
answered. "The last, I got a month ago."

His pipe was in his fist again, and he was chewing wrathfully. "I'll
see," he growled. And waved her to go.

From the hall door, she glanced back at Johnnie. Not only had she and he
a system of communication by means of coughs, humming, whistles, taps
and other audible sounds; and a second system (just as good) that
depended upon wall marks, soap-inscribed hieroglyphics on the bit of
mirror in Cis's room, or the arrangement of dishes on the kitchen table,
and pots and pans on the stove, but they had a well-worked-out silent
system--by means of brow-raisings, eye and lip movements, head tippings
and swift finger pointings--that was as perfect and satisfactory as the
dumb conversation of two colts. Such a system was necessary; for
whenever the great figure of Barber came wedging itself through the hall
door, and his presence, like a blighting shadow, darkened the already
dark little flat, then the two young voices had to fall instantly
silent, since Barber would brook no noise--least of all whispering.

N