ch
drove Stump for a time from his mind. It was solved by a night-shirt of
first-citizen primness, which trailed upon the carpet and made him
snigger self-consciously behind his hand until he heard Aunt Judith's
step again beyond the door, when he vaulted into bed, shivering
luxuriously in the chill softness of unaccustomed linen.... And then
Aunt Judith blew out the lamp and tucked him in with hands so tremulous
and gentle that his throat troubled him again, and he lay very still.
Meeting her eyes, he suddenly buried his face in the pillow with a gulp
and a sob, and clung to her hand. Aunt Judith, shaking, caught him
wildly in her arms, cried very hard, and kissed him good-night. Jimsy,
Stump and Aunt Judith Sawyer knew variously the meaning of starvation.

[Illustration]

III

THE CHAIN GROWS

The house grew very still. Jimsy, awaking after a time with the start of
unfamiliar surroundings, heard the rattle of wind and snow against his
window. A tree brushed monotonously against the panes--then through the
sounds of winter storm came an unmistakable whimper and a howl. The boy
sat up. Stump! Huddled likely against the door in an agony of faith.
Jimsy thought of a winter night before Mom Dorgan had taken him in, and
shivered. The howl came again. Rising, Jimsy opened his door on a crack
and peered cautiously through it. The hallway was dimly alight from a
lamp, set, for safety's sake, within a pewter bowl. The house of Sawyer
slept. Gathering his train in his hand, Jimsy hurried through the hall
and down the stairs to the lower floor, quite dark now, save for barred
patches of window framing ghostly landscapes. A gust of wind and snow
whirled in as he unbarred the kitchen door. Then something with an
ingratiating waggle pushed gladly against his feet. Five seconds later
Jimsy and Stump were on their way upstairs.

[Illustration]

Excitement exacted its toll. Jimsy halted at the second turn in the
upper hall, his scalp feeling very queer. The lamp had gone out,
probably in the draft from the kitchen door, and he had lost his room!
Whispering desperate admonitions to the wriggling dog beneath his arm,
Jimsy went on tiptoed hunt until, finding a window, a turn and a door
that seemed familiar, he heaved a great sigh of relief and turned the
knob. As he pushed back the door, a flood of light and warmth fanned
out, and Jimsy, tangling his feet in his train as only a small boy
could, fell headlong into the room