he couldn't understand.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" she panted.

Mary held her gaze in lingering pity. Her heart went out now to the
miserable creature trembling in the presence of her victim. The blow
must fall that would crush the soul out of her body at one stroke. The
gray hair had tumbled over her distorted features, the ragged dress had
been torn from her throat in the struggle and her flat, bony breast was
exposed.

"You don't--have--to--go--to--New York--to--find--your--boy!" the
strained voice said at last.

Nance frowned in surprise and flew back at her in rage.

"Yes I do, too--he lives thar!"

The little figure straightened above the crouching form.

"He's here!"

Nance sank slowly against the table and rested the bag on the edge of
the chair. Its weight was more than she could bear. She tried to glance
over her shoulder at the body on the couch and her courage failed. The
first suspicion of the hideous truth flashed through her stunned mind.
She couldn't grasp it at once.

"Whar?" she whispered hoarsely.

Mary lifted her arm slowly and pointed to the couch.

"There!"

Nance glared at her a moment and broke into a hysterical laugh.

"It's a lie--a lie--a lie!"

"It's true----"

"Yer're just a lyin' ter me ter get away an give me up--but ye won't do
it--little Miss--old Nance is too smart for ye this time. Who told you
that?"

"He told me tonight!"

"He told you?" she repeated blankly.

"Yes."

"You're a liar!" she growled. "And I'll prove it--you move out o' your
tracks an' I'll cut your throat. My boy's got a scar on his neck--I know
right whar to look for it. Don't you move now till I see--I know you're
a liar----"

She turned and with the quick trembling fingers of her right hand tore
the shirt back from the neck and saw the scar. She still held the bag
in her left hand. The muscles slowly relaxed and the bag fell endwise to
the floor, the gold crashing and rolling over the boards. She stared in
stupor and threw both hands above her streaming gray hair.

"Lord God Almighty!" she shrieked. "Why didn't I think that he wuz
somebody else's boy if he weren't mine!"

The thin body trembled and crumpled beside the couch.

The girl lifted her head in a look of awe as if in prayer.

"And God has set me free! free! free!"

CHAPTER XXIII. THE DOCTOR

Mary stood overwhelmed by the tragedy she had witnessed. For the time
her brain refused to record sensation