eat line of talk," said William to himself. "Now for
Mrs. Moriarity," that lady being the next on his list. William knew
her for a good-natured, careless woman, who nevertheless was the real
head of the Moriarity household, which included nine children of
varying ages and sizes. Nothing was ever done on time in her house; no
bill was ever paid when it was due, though Mrs. Moriarity never tried
to evade one. She was just happy-go-lucky and careless.

William approached the house with some misgivings. A number of the
younger Moriaritys were playing around the door, and just as William
approached them a drunken man staggered up, singing loudly. He fell
over one of the children, and the youngster set up a howl that brought
the mother to the open door. She reached it just as the man, thrusting
out a long arm, brutally flung another child on one side. With an
angry cry the mother rushed for the brute, but William reached him
first. Without a word the boy stooped, grabbed one of the man's ankles
firmly, and, putting all his strength into the effort, pulled his foot
off the ground. The man lurched heavily and fell full length upon his
face, just escaping William, who stood upright, as Mrs. Moriarity,
talking volubly, plumped down on the man's back. "And here oi'll sit
till a p'licemon comes," she said; "you, William Turnpike, kape a
lukout for wan." And even as she said it a policeman came along and
took the drunken offender into custody. As the policeman marched his
prisoner away, Mrs. Moriarity turned to William, who was trying to
comfort the little Moriaritys, for those who had not been hurt were
crying as lustily from fear and sympathy as those who had. In the
short struggle with the man William's face had received a buffet that
had re-opened one of the scratches, and this was now bleeding somewhat
freely.

"For the luv of heavin, Willyum, did that brute do that to you?" cried
Mrs. Moriarity.

William tried to explain, but she never heard him. "It's good f'r him
Moriarity wasn't here or he'd a bruk his neck," she went on excitedly.
"Come on in," she ordered, "all ov yez; come on, Willyum." And William
went. She comforted her offspring and bathed William's face in warm
water, unheeding his protests and deaf to his explanation of the
original cause of his injuries. It was only after she had made him
drink a cup of tea and had sent the children out to their play again
that he was able to explain his errand