"That's what I mean," grunted Lem.
"And that ye mean me to tell him what ye says, Lemmy, and that ye want me to bring him back?"
Scraggy had drawn closer and closer to Lem, her sad face wrinkling into deeper lines. With each uttered word Lem had seen that he had conquered her. Suddenly he dropped his heavy left hand down on the gray head and kept it there.
For the first time in many weary years Scraggy Peterson was kneeling before her man. Now he wanted her! He had asked her to come again to that precious haven of rest, and to bring the child! Scraggy forgot that the babe she had passed through the barge window was grown to be a man, forgot that he might not want to come back to the scow with her and his father.
Lem drew her close between his heavy knees and touched her withered chin with his fingers.
"Where be the brat, Scraggy?" he wheedled.
Screech Owl lifted her head and drew back frightened. Something warned her that she must not tell him where his son lived.
"I'll get him for ye," she said doggedly.
"Where be he?" demanded the scowman.