arrived. That afternoon Lon had come from Ithaca with his brother Eli to
meet Lem.

"Be ye goin' to steal the kids tonight, Lon?" asked Lem.

"Yep, tonight."

"Why don't ye take just one? It'd make 'em sit up and note a bit to
crib, say, the boy."

"We'll take 'em both," replied Lon decisively.

"And if we get caught?" stammered Crabbe.

"We don't get caught," assured Lon darkly, "'cause tonight's the time
for 'em all to be busy 'bout the Vandecar house. I know, I do--no matter
how!"

* * * * *

Wee Mildred Vandecar was ushered into the world during one of the worst
March storms ever known in the western part of New York. As she lay
snuggled in laces in her father's home, a tall man walked down a lane,
four miles from Ithaca, with her sleeping sister in his arms. The dark
baby head was covered by a ragged shawl; two tender, naked feet
protruded from under a coarse skirt. Lon Cronk struggled on against the
wind to a hut in the rocks, opened the door, and stepped inside.

A woman, not unlike him, in spite of added years, rose as he entered.