that?" he said with scornful distinctness.

"Why, jest to show 'em we HAVE got money, and could buy 'em all up
if we wanted to," returned Maggie, sticking boldly to her guns,
albeit with a vague conviction that her fire was weakened through
elevation, and somewhat alarmed at the deliberation of the enemy.

"And you mean to say they don't know it now," he continued with
slow derision.

"No," said Maggie. "Why, theer's that new school-marm over at
Logport, you know, Jim, the one that wanted to take your picter in
your boat for a young smuggler or fancy pirate or Eyetalian
fisherman, and allowed that you'r handsomed some, and offered to
pay you for sittin'--do you reckon SHE'D believe you owned the land
her schoolhouse was built on. No! Lots of 'em don't. Lots of 'em
thinks we're poor and low down--and them ez doesn't, thinks"--

"What?" asked her brother sharply.

"That we're MEAN."

The quick color came to Jim's cheek. "So," he said, facing her
quickly, "for the sake of a lot of riff-raff and scum that's
drifted here around us--jest for the sake of cuttin' a swell before
them--you'll go out among the hounds ez allowed your mother was a
Spanish nigger or a kanaka, ez called your father a pirate and
landgrabber, ez much as allowed he was shot by some one or killed
himself a purpose, ez said you was a heathen and a looney because
you didn't go to school or church along with their trash, ez kept