something to eat without your being so fierce." Eleanor was edging
slowly away from her couch.

"I don't want a slice of pie and your stale bread," the man replied
angrily. "I want everything you have got, and I want it quick."

Now was Eleanor's chance. Lillian gave another frantic tug, attempting
to free her hands. She had not cried out since the man seized her, but
her face was contracted with pain. The robber was so fully occupied
with holding her he was not looking at Eleanor, although his eyes
slanted go curiously that he could apparently see on all sides of him.

Eleanor made a quick rush forward. With a thud she fell to the floor,
and lay stunned by the force of her fall. The tramp, still holding
Lillian by her wrists, had jerked her backward, thrown out his foot and
tripped Eleanor. Now, before Lillian could scream, he whipped out a
dirty handkerchief and tied it so tightly about her mouth that she
could scarcely breathe. He next took a piece of twine and twisted it
about Lillian's wrists, so that the cord cut into them.

While this scene of violence was being enacted Phil was perfectly happy
and strangely unconscious of any trouble. She was still at work,
sweeping the upper deck and clearing it of the trash she had made with
her gardening. She was humming gayly to herself or she would have
heard the sounds below more plainly. "There was a man in our town, and
he was wondrous wise." She stopped short. She had heard a noise, as
though something had fallen. But then, the girls were always dropping
things and stumbling over their few pieces of furniture. There was no
further noise. Phil went on with her singing. But why did Lillian and
Eleanor not start the farmer boy to scrubbing? It was getting late,