To Sammy the tall man with the homely face and clear gray eyes was a mine of pennies and consequently of illicit candy; the soul of Sammy was greedy as well as his stomach. Trench thrust his hand into his pocket and produced five pennies. Sammy’s dirty little fist closed on them with the grip of the nascent financier.

“Sammy tired,” he sobbed, “wants go to candy man’s!”

Trench stooped good-naturedly and lifted the bundle of indescribable garments; he had carried it before, and the candy man was only a quarter of a mile away. He was raising the child to his shoulder when the growth of pokeberry bushes at the roadside shook and a woman darted out from behind it. She was scarcely more than a girl and pitifully thin and wan. Her garments, too, were sexless; she wore a girl’s short skirt and a man’s waistcoat; a man’s soft felt hat rested on a tangled mass of hair,—the coarse and abundant hair of peasant ancestry. She ran up to him and snatched the child out of his arms.

[16]“You shan’t have him!” she cried passionately; “you shan’t touch him—he’s mine!”

[16]

Sammy screamed dismally, clutching his pennies.

“Never mind, Jean,” said Trench quietly. “I know he’s yours.”

“He’s mine!” She was stamping her foot in passion, her thin face crimson, the veins standing out on her forehead. “He’s mine—you may try ter get him, but you won’t—you won’t—you won’t!” she screamed.

The child was frightened now, and clasped both arms around her neck, screaming too.

“I was only offering to carry him to the candy man’s, Jean,” Trench said; “don’t get so excited. I know the child is yours.”

“He’s mine!” she cried again, “mine! That’s my shame, they call it, and preach at me, and try ter take him away. They want ’er steal him, but they shan’t; they shan’t touch him any more’n you shall! He’s mine; God gave him ter me, and I’ll keep him. You can kill me, but you shan’t have him noways!” She was quivering from head to foot, her wild eyes flashing, her face white now with the frenzy that swept away every other thought.

“Hush,” said Trench sternly, “no one wants to steal the child, Jean; it’s only your fancy. Be quiet.”

He spoke with such force that the girl fell back, leaning against the fence, holding the sobbing child 

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