er to juice the apples; Charley holding the
pie in his hands, the juice running down his cheeks as he expatiated on
the wrongs that had been heaped upon him in general and by
"Al-f-u-r-d's" and his own father in particular, so worked on
"Al-f-u-r-d's" sympathy that nothing cooked or uncooked that was
eatable, that he could smuggle to the exiles, was too good for them.

For the first time since Lin came into the family the mother suspected
her of dishonest practices. A coldness sprang up between the women. This
unpleasantness almost drove the boy to confession, but the fear of the
exiles kept him from exposing them.

[Illustration: The Exile's Retreat]

The father set a watch on "Al-f-u-r-d." He was seen to fill his pockets
and a small basket, hide the basket in the coal shed until the shadows
of dusk. The father followed the smuggler to the exiles' camp. Several
other boys who had learned of the pies, pickles, preserves, doughnuts,
and other good things that "Al-f-u-r-d" carried to the old tannery, had
gone into exile and were always conveniently near when "Al-f-u-r-d"
appeared with his food contributions.

The father was close onto "Al-f-u-r-d" when he entered the larger room
of the old tan house. "Al-f-u-r-d" set the basket with the coarser food
in it on the box that served as a table while he began issuing the more
dainty contributions from his pockets. Handing Cousin Charley a doughnut
from one pocket he was in the act of pulling a handful of pickles from
another when the irate parent rushed into the little room. The exiles'
camp was broken up, and the exiles driven out into the cold world.
"Al-f-u-r-d" was escorted home then to the cellar where the seance was a
trifle more animated than usual, at least "Al-f-u-r-d's" cries so
denoted.

Lin's denunciations of those who had devastated her pantry of the coarse
as well as her daintiest cooking, was of the strongest. Lin was very
proud of her skill as a cook. When the truth came out and she learned
that "Al-f-u-r-d" was the culprit, she immediately began making excuses
for the boy, and when his screams from the cellar penetrated the
kitchen, Lin's sympathy was fully aroused. With the rolling pin in one
hand, flour to her elbows on her bare, muscular arms, she rushed into
the cellar, with flushed face and confronted the parent:

[Illustration: "Lin"]

"Hold on yer, hold on! Ye've whipped that boy enough and you're whippin'
him fer nothin'. Ef it hadn't bin fer th