's the future ye want unveiled, dearie?" she croaked, rapidly
shuffling the cards; "an' old mother 'ull tell--"

"No she won't," interrupted the detective, sharply. "I've come on
business."

The old woman started at this, and looked keenly at him from under her
bushy eyebrows.

"What 'av the boys been up to now?" she asked, harshly. "There ain't no
swag 'ere this time."

Just then the sick woman, who had been restlessly tossing on the bed,
commenced singing a snatch of the quaint old ballad of "Barbara Allen"--

"Oh, mither, mither, mak' my bed,
An' mak' it saft an' narrow;
Since my true love died for me to-day
I'll die for him to-morrow."

"Shut up, cuss you!" yelled Mother Guttersnipe, viciously, "or I'll
knock yer bloomin' 'ead orf," and she seized the square bottle as if to
carry out her threat; but, altering her mind, she poured some of its
contents into the cup, and drank it off with avidity.

"The woman seems ill," said Calton, casting a shuddering glance at the
stretcher.

"So she are," growled Mother Guttersnipe, angrily. "She ought to be in
Yarrer Bend, she ought, instead of stoppin' 'ere an' singin' them
beastly things, which makes my blood run cold. Just 'ear 'er," she
said, viciously, as the sick woman broke out once more--

"Oh, little did my mither think,
When first she cradled me,
I'd die sa far away fra home,
Upon the gallows tree."

"Yah!" said the old woman, hastily, drinking some more gin out of the
cup. "She's allays a-talkin' of dyin' an' gallers, as if they were nice
things to jawr about."

"Who was that woman who died here three or four weeks ago?" asked
Kilsip, sharply.

"'Ow should I know?" retorted Mother Guttersnipe, sullenly. "I didn't
kill 'er, did I? It were the brandy she drank; she was allays drinkin',
cuss her."

"Do you remember the night she died?"

"No, I don't," answered the beldame, frankly. "I were drunk--blind,
bloomin', blazin' drunk--s'elp me."

"You're always drunk," said Kilsip.

"What if I am?" snarled the woman, seizing her bottle. "You don't pay
fur it. Yes, I'm drunk. I'm allays drunk. I was drunk last night, an'
the night before, an' I'm a-goin' to git drunk to-night"--with an
impressive look at the bottle--"an' to-morrow night, an' I'll keep it
up till I'm rottin' in the grave."

Calton shuddered, so full of hatred and suppressed malignity was her
voice, but the detective merely shrugged his shoulders.

"More fool you," he