"Your little boy?" she echoed. "I never knowed you had no little boy.
You never said nuthin' 'bout no little boy when I was up to your cabin."

Jim's heart, despite his utmost efforts to be hopeful, was sinking.

"You know I found a little kid," he said, less aggressively. "And some
one's taken him off--stole him--that's what they've done, and I'll bet
a bit it's you!"

"Wal, if I ever!" cried Miss Doc, her eyes lighting up dangerously.
"Did you come down here to tell me right to my face I stole from your
dirty little shanty?"

"I want my little boy," said Jim.

"Wal, you git out of my house," commanded Miss Doc. "If John was up
you'd never dare to stay here another minute. You clear out!
A-callin' me a thief!"

Jim's hope collapsed in his bosom. The taking of the child he could
gladly have forgiven. Any excuse would have satisfied his
anger--anything was bearable, save to know that he had come on a false
belief.

"Miss Doc," he said, "I only want the little kid. Don't say he ain't
here."

"Tellin' me I'd steal!" she said, in her indignation. "You shiftless,
good-for-nothin'--" But she left her string of epithets incompleted,