prodded the corner to see that the prize had not
faded away, and then began ponderously to make preparations for a meal,
supposedly breakfast. Meagre ablutions, such as they were, were
performed in the "living room," a bucket of water serving as a general
wash-basin. No one had removed his clothing during the night, not even
his shoes. It seemed to her that the gang was in an ever-ready condition
to evacuate the place at a moment's notice.

Rosalie would not eat, nor would she bathe her face in the water that
had been used by the quartette before her. Bill Briggs, with some sense
of delicacy in his nature, brought some fresh water from the far end of
the passageway. For this act he was reviled by his companions.

"It's no easy job to get water here, Briggs," roared Sam. "We got to be
savin' with it."

"Well, don't let it hurt you," retorted Bill. "I'll carry it up from the
river to-night. You won't have to do it."

"She ain't any better'n I am," snorted Maude, "and nobody goes out to
bring me a private bath, I take notice. Get up here and eat something,
you rat! Do you want us to force it down you--"

"If she don't want to eat don't coax her," said Sam. "She'll soon get
over that. We was only hired to get her here and get her away again, and
not to make her eat or even wash. That's nothing to us."

"Well, she's got to eat or she'll die, and you know, Sam Welch, that
ain't to be," retorted the old woman.

"She'll eat before she'll die, Maudie; don't worry."

"I'll never eat a mouthful!" cried Rosalie, a brave, stubborn light in
her eyes. She was standing in the far corner drying her face with her
handkerchief.

"Oho, you can talk again, eh? Hooray! Now we'll hear the story of her
life," laughed big Sam, his mouth full of bacon and bread. Rosalie
flushed and the tears welled to her eyes.

All day long she suffered taunts and gibes from the gang. She grew to
fear Davy's ugly leers more than the brutal words of the others. When
he came near she shrank back against the wall; when he spoke she
cringed; when he attempted to touch her person she screamed. It was this
act that brought Sam's wrath upon Davy's head. He won something like
gratitude from the girl by profanely commanding Davy to confine his love
to looks and not to acts.

"She ain't to be harmed," was Sam's edict. "That goes, too."

"Aw, you go to--" began Davy belligerently.

"What's that?" snarled Sam, whirling upon him with a glare. Davy slunk
beh