"You can't go with us," he said. "You can't. It's wrong--all
wrong. I couldn't take care of you in jail, and some day--that's
where I'll be."

More than once when she had spoken of Jed Hawkins he had seen the
swift flash of lightning come into the violet of her eyes. And it
came now, and her little hands grew tight at her sides, and bright
spots burned in her cheeks.

"You won't!" she cried. "I won't let you go to jail. I'll fight
for you--if you'll let me go with you and Peter!"

She came a step nearer.

"And if I stay here Jed Hawkins is goin' to sell me to a tie-
cutter over on the railroad. That's what it is--sellin' me. I
ain't--I mean I haven't--told you before, because I was afraid of
what you'd do. But it's goin' to happen, unless you let me go with
you and Peter. Oh, Mister Roger--Mister Jolly Roger--"

Her fingers crept up his arms. They reached his shoulders, and her
blue eyes, and her red lips, and the woman's soul in her girl-body
were so close to him he could feel their sweetness and thrill, and
then he saw a slow-gathering mist, and tears--

"I'll go wherever you go," she was whispering, "And we'll hide
where they won't ever find us, and I'll be happy, so happy, Mister
Roger--and if you won't take me I want to die. Oh--"