his ears flattened with gratitude and trust. The man
wouldn't hurt him, she was telling the boy. Sometimes he talked to
everybody that way. He was an old grouch, that's what he was. She
whispered something.
"To-morrow?" the boy asked eagerly.
"Hush! Sure. That's it--to-morrow!"
"Did F'ank go home, Nita?"
"Sure he went home."
"I saw a dog in the bushes!"
The woman laughed. "You're seeing things, old scout. What about some
supper?"
She got out of the car and went quickly to the fire the men had built.
Without a word to them she gathered up something to eat and came quickly
back. Even in the darkness Frank could see the light in her eyes.
The boy must have gone to sleep soon after that. The moon, big, weird,
solemn, rose slowly over yonder parallel range of mountains. The men at
the fire talked low and mumbling between long intervals. Presently the
heavy man rose, skirted the thicket, and stumbled off across the field
toward the road. The smell of him polluted the air no more. Then the
woman came quietly out of the car and joined the other man at the fire.
"Where's he gone?" she asked.
"To get the lay of the land."
She sat down opposite him, her knees drawn up, her chin in her hand.
"Joe?"
"Well?"
"The kid's got me, Joe!"
He said nothing and she talked on, her voice low. Still he said nothing.
Then she went over to him, sat down beside him, took his hand in hers.
"Let's take him home!" she pleaded, her voice rising. "Let's make a
clean breast of it. Let's begin all over again. Let's be straight.
They'll give us a chance--I know they will. They're like the kid--white.
I know they are. Let's turn round right now. I promised him we'd take
him home to-morrow. I couldn't help it! Joe, Joe, I'd rather be dead
than go on!"
She rose when he rose, clinging to him. He threw her off, she ran to
him, and he threw her off again, his face distorted in the moonlight.
"I'm tired of this sob stuff!" he cried. "We're in this thing and we're
goin' to see it through!"
"You'll wake him!" she gasped.
"Let him wake! The daddy'll come across or I'll wring the brat's neck!"
"Oh!" she screamed.
She stared at him with white face, full of horror and fear and loathing.
She turned and stumbled toward the car, the curtains closed upon her.
Far in the night Frank heard her sobbing to herself.
His eyes were green with hatred as he followed the car the next day. A
few crumbs of bread from the deserted campi
|