and her face fell, "I can't get money enough to board in; and I don't
want to board in--I wants to be free."

He looked at her, curled down so earnestly at her puzzling task, and a
pity for the more than motherless child swept over him. He bent over
her, nervously, eagerly, and she laid down her sewing and sat silent and
passive with dark, burning eyes.

"Zora," he said, "I want you to do all this--for me."

"I will, if you wants me to," she said quietly, but with something in
her voice that made him look half startled into her beautiful eyes and
feel a queer flushing in his face. He stretched his hand out and taking
hers held it lightly till she quivered and drew away, bending again
over her sewing.

Then a nameless exaltation rose within his heart.

"Zora," he whispered, "I've got a plan."

"What is it?" she asked, still with bowed head.

"Listen, till I tell you of the Golden Fleece."

Then she too heard the story of Jason. Breathless she listened, dropping
her sewing and leaning forward, eager-eyed. Then her face clouded.

"Do you s'pose mammy's the witch?" she asked dubiously.

"No; she wouldn't give her own flesh and blood to help the thieving