waying movement
of her the cat shifted its position from one stooped shoulder to the
other.

Everett found his voice, and asked sharply:

"How did you get into the house?"

Scraggy put up her arm, drew the snarling cat under it, and looked
stupidly at the man. She was so close that he could see the steam rising
from her wet clothes, and the hisses of the animal were audible above
his own heavy breathing. Screech Owl smoothed the cat's bristling back.

"Pussy ain't to hiss at my own pretty boy!" she whispered. "He's my
little 'un--he's my little 'un!"

A premonition, born of her words, goaded Everett to action.

"Get up!" he ordered. "Get up and get out of here! Do you want me to
have you arrested?"

Scraggy smiled.

"Ye wouldn't have yer own mother pinched, little 'un. I'm yer mammy!
Don't ye know me?"

He moved threateningly toward her; but a snarl from the furious cat
stayed him.

"You lie! You crazy fool! Get up, or I'll kick you out of the house! Get
out, I say! Every word you've uttered is a lie!"

"I don't lie," cried Scraggy. "Ye be my boy. Ain't ye got a long dig on
ye from--from yer neck to yer arm--a red cut yer pappy made that night I
gived ye to the Brimbecomb woman? The place were a bleedin' and a
bleedin' all through your baby dress. Wait! I'll show ye where it is."
She scrambled up and advanced toward him.

Everett made as if to strike her.

"Get back, I say! I would hate you if you were my mother! You can't fool
me with your charlatan tricks!"

The woman sank down, whimpering.

Again Everett sprang forward; but again the cat drove him back.

"Go--go--now!" he muttered. "I can't bear the sight of you!"

There were tones in his voice that reminded Scraggy of Lem, and her
heart grew tender as she thought of the father waiting for his child.

"Ye won't hate yer pappy, if he does hate me. He wants ye, little 'un.
I've come to take ye back to yer hum. He won't hurt ye no more."

Everett stared at her wildly. Was the delicious mystery that had
surrounded him for so many years, which had occupied his mind hour upon
hour, to end in this? He would not have it so!

"Get up, then," he said, his lips whitening, "and tell me what you have
to say."

Scraggy lifted herself up. Her boy wanted to hear more about his father,
she thought.

"I gived ye to the pretty lady with the golden hair when yer pappy hurt
ye, and I knowed ye again; for the Brimbecomb's name was on the boat
that took ye. Ye