"Aw, now, don't get mad, Bessie," he said, trying to pacify her. "This
here's the city--'tain't Hedgeville! Maybe I was mean to you sometimes
back home, Bessie, but I was jest jokin'. Say, Bess, here's a gentleman
wants to talk to you. He's a lawyer an' a mighty smart man. An' he
thinks he knows somethin' about your father and mother."

Another figure had loomed up beside that of Jake, and Bessie was hardly
surprised to find that it was Brack who was leering at her.

"He's right. I know something about them," he said. "There's precious
little old Brack don't know, my dear--an' that's a fact you can bet your
last dollar on."

He chuckled, and made a movement as if he intended to take Bessie's
hand, but she brushed his claw-like hand away with a motion of disgust.

"I haven't got time to be talking to you now," she said, decisively. "If
you know anything you think I ought to be told, tell it to Mr.
Jamieson."

"Oh, ho, tell it to him, eh!" he said. "Maybe you'd better be careful,
girl! Maybe you wouldn't like everyone to know why your parents had to
run away and leave you in such a hurry. Maybe they're in prison, and
deserve to be. How'd you like to have people hear that, eh!"

"I wouldn't like it, but I don't believe it's true!" said Bessie,
scornfully. "Not for a minute!" And she pressed on, but Brack followed
and walked close beside her.

"Remember this--you'll never see them again, except through me," he