"Oh, Jim! oh, Jim!" Eva sobbed again; but she followed him, little
Ellen's golden fleece tossing over her shoulder.

"She's got her; she's got her!" shouted the people.

[Illustration: 'She's got her!' Shouted the people]

Then the leather-stained hands gyrated, the cheers went up, and
again the whistles blew.

Jim Tenny, with his hand on Eva's arm, pushed his way through the
crowd.

"Where you goin', Jim?" asked the pretty girl at his elbow, but he
pushed past her roughly, and did not seem to hear. Eva's face was
all inflamed and convulsed with sobs, but she did not dream of
covering it--she was full of the holy shamelessness of grief and
joy. "Let me see her! let me see her! Oh, the dear little thing,
only look at her! Where have you been, precious? Are you hungry? Oh,
Nellie, she is hungry, I know! She looks thin. Run over to the
bakery and buy her some cookies, quick! Are you cold? Give her this
sacque. Only look at her! Kate, only look at her! Are you hurt,
darling? Has anybody hurt you? If anybody has, he shall be hung! Oh,
you darling! Only see her, 'Liza."

But Jim Tenny, his mouth set, his black brows scowling, his hard
grasp on Eva's arm, pushed straight through the gathering crowd
until they came to Clarkson's stables at the rear of Lloyd's, where
he kept his horse and buggy--for he lived at a distance from his