Jean started and stared at the man in amazement.

Surely she had not heard aright.

"Do you mean what you say?" she asked.

"I certainly do. Those Loyalists will never receive any help from me.
Let them starve and freeze; it is no more than they deserve."

These cold, inhuman words stirred Jean's fighting blood. She rose
quickly to her feet, her eyes ablaze with anger.

"I don't know who you are," she began, "and I don't know why you hate
the Loyalists. But--" she paused just for an instant, "some of that
food and clothing will leave this place to-morrow morning."

The man sat bolt upright at this declaration, and flung out his right
hand as if to hit the girl. Then he sank back upon the bed with a
groan.

"You can't help yourself," Jean reminded, "so it is better for you to
keep quiet. Some of those supplies are going, whether you like it or
not."

"But this is a hold-up, a robbery," the man charged.

"I don't care what you call it, and I'm not worrying about that. I
only know that men, women, and children are starving not far away, so
while there is food here they are going to have some of it."