what ye do! Ye ain't no mind left, ye ain't! And it makes ye ugly, so it
does!"

"Be it any of yer business?" demanded Lem insultingly, as he filled his
mouth with a piece of brown bread. After washing it down with a drink of
whisky, he finished, "Ye ain't no relation to me, be ye?"

The thin face hung over the tin plate.

"Ye ain't married to me, be ye?"

And, while a giant pain gnawed at her heart, she shook her head.

"Then what right has ye got to tell me what to do? Shut up or get
out--ye see?"

He closed his jaw with a vicious snap, resting his half-dazed head on
his mutilated arm. Louder came the baby's cries from the back room.
Thinking Lem had ended his tirade, Scraggy made a motion to rise.

"Set still!" growled Crabbe.

"Can't I get the brat, Lemmy?" she pleaded. "He's likely to fall offen
the bed."

"Let him fall. What do I care? I want to tell ye somethin'. I didn't
bring ye here to this boat to boss me, ye see? Ye keep yer mouth shet
'bout things what ye don't like. Ye're in my way, anyhow."

"Ye mean, Lemmy, as how I has to leave ye?"