the bridge crossing the culvert when she heard distressed screams of a
child. Across an orchard of the suburbs came a small boy, after him a
big dog, urged by a man in the background. Elnora's heart was with the
small fleeing figure in any event whatever. She dropped her load on
the bridge, and with practised hand flung a stone at the dog. The beast
curled double with a howl. The boy reached the fence, and Elnora was
there to help him over. As he touched the top she swung him to the
ground, but he clung to her, clasping her tightly, sobbing with fear.
Elnora helped him to the bridge, and sat with him in her arms. For a
time his replies to her questions were indistinct, but at last he became
quieter and she could understand.

He was a mite of a boy, nothing but skin-covered bones, his burned,
freckled face in a mortar of tears and dust, his clothing unspeakably
dirty, one great toe in a festering mass from a broken nail, and sores
all over the visible portions of the small body.

"You won't let the mean old thing make his dog get me!" he wailed.

"Indeed no," said Elnora, holding him closely.

"You wouldn't set a dog on a boy for just taking a few old apples when
you fed 'em to pigs with a shovel every day, would you?"

"No, I would not," said Elnora hotly.

"You'd give a boy all the apples he wanted, if he hadn't any breakfast,
and was so hungry he was all twisty inside, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, I would," said Elnora.