At these words David looked quickly around, and saw a young girl
standing by his side. Though her dress was old and worn, her face was
bright, and her eyes sparkled with interest.

"Here, let me take that splinter out," she ordered, as she sat down by
his side, and drawing forth a needle, began to probe into the flesh.
"There, I've got it!" she cried in triumph. "My! it's a monster.
You'll have to be more careful after this. You should have gloves."

"Thank you very much," David replied. "To whom am I indebted for this
kindness?"

"Oh, I'm Betty Bean, that's all."

"And you live here?"

"No. I'm just dying here."

"Dying!" David exclaimed in surprise. "Why, you don't look like a
dying person."

"Maybe I don't, but I am. I'm just staying here because I have to. My
mother's a widow, and I want to earn some money to help her, and as
this was the only place I could get I had to take it."

"So you do not like it, then?"

"Who would like any place where there is such a brute as Jim Goban?
My, I'm sorry for you. To think of any man getting into his clutches."