"But were she a woman?" asked Lem meditatively.

"Yep, she were a woman, and I married her square, I did!"

Lon stirred his dank black hair ferociously, standing it on end with
horny fingers. "I loved her, Lem Crabbe," he continued hoarsely. "I
loved her, that I know! And ye can let that devilish grin ride on yer
lips when I say it and I don't give a hell; but--but if ye say that she
didn't love me, if ye so much as smile when I say that she died a
callin' me, that she went away lovin' me every minute, I--I'll rip
offen yer hooked arm and tear out yer in'ards with it!"

He was leaning against the wall no longer. As he spoke, he came closer
to the crouching canalman, his eyes straining from their sockets in
livid hate. But he halted, and presently began to speak in a voice more
subdued.

"But she's dead, and I'm goin' to get even. He killed her, he did,
'cause he wouldn't let me see her, and he's got to go the same way I
went! He's got to tear his hair and call God to curse some 'un he won't
know who! He's got to want his kids like as how I've been wantin'
mine--"

"Ye ain't had no kids, Lon," his brother broke in scoffingly.

"I would a had if he'd a kept his hands to hum and let me see her. But
she were so little an' young-like an' afeard, and I telled her that
night--I telled her when she whispered that she were a goin' to have a
baby, and said as how she couldn't stand bein' hurt--I says, 'Midge