"If you're going to school, I should think it was time you began. You're a big boy," said Dorothy. "Why don't you leave her now?"
"Well—'cause. She—I come here when my folks died an' I hadn't no other place. She treats me decent, only makes me hold my tongue. She hates folks that talk. He talks fast enough, though. So I—I've just stayed on, a-waitin' my chance. I get good grub an' she don't lick me. She likes me, I guess, next to him. She likes him better even than she likes money. I don't. I'm scared of him. So's she. She does what he says every time. That's why I said 'no milk.'"
"Who is 'he'? Does he live here? What is about the milk?"
There was nobody anywhere near them except the dog. By no possibility could anybody besides Dorothy hear the information next imparted: yet Jim stood up, peered in every direction, and when he again sat down resumed in a whisper:
"You ain't the first one. 'Tother was a boy, real little. He cried all the time, first off. Then 'he' fetched some white powders an' she put 'em in the kid's milk. After that he didn't cry no more but he slept most all the time. I seen her. I watched. I seen her put one in yourn. I liked you. I thought if you stayed you'd be comp'ny, if you was awake. That's why."
"What became of the little boy?" asked Dorothy, also whispering, and frightened.
"He took him away. I studied out 't he gets money that way. He wouldn't do it, 'less he did, seems if. I guess that's what he's plannin' 'bout you. I'll watch. You watch. Don't mad her an' she'll treat you good enough. 'Less—'less he should tell her different. Then I don't know."
Dorothy sat silent for a long time. She was horrified to find her own suspicions verified by this other person though he seemed to be friendly; and her mind formed plan after plan of escape, only to reject each as impossible. Finally she asked:
"Where is this house? How far from Baltimore?"
"'Bout a dozen mile, more or less. Ain't no town or village nigh. That's why she bought it cheap, the land laying away off that way. So fur is the reason she has to have four mules, 'stead of two, for the truck-wagon. She makes money! All for him. Him an' money—that's the hull of her."