pay her board."

"I know a good woman near by--she have leetle house, cat, plant in
window."

"That's the kind."

"I will tell you where she live. You shall say you come from Etienne
Provancher and it will make you good for her." He paused, raised a brown
finger, then went on. "But you shall not know where she live onless
I may pay half the board money for the poor little one. We have been
togedder in it--I tell some lie to the coroner--we must be togedder in
help the childs."

There was firm resolve in old Etienne's face and tones.

"Partnership it shall be, my old boy," agreed the young man, heartily.
"I'm no pig--I won't keep a good man out of a real picnic." He rose and
swept the child into his arms. "Give me the address and hand her over
the fence to me. I'll have to quit being nurse and find a real job.
By the way, Etienne, I heard a fat man weeping yesterday because he
couldn't get men to dig dirt for the Consolidated Water Company. He
seemed to take a great fancy to me. Where's their office?"

He received both the information and the child after he had climbed the
fence. Etienne was able to point out the little house of sanctuary from
where he stood--and he waved his rake reassuringly from a distance when
the good woman came to the door, answering Farr's knock. He danced
into the house with the child, behind the good woman, who had answered
Etienne's signal with a return flip of her apron; he was trying to bring