"I tell you, I went to him to-day as I'll go to no man again. I begged him to renew the note, but he insisted his duty to the bank wouldn't let him. I told him it would put you in a terrible fix, that you'd gone on the note when you couldn't afford it. He grinned a devil's grin then and said, 'Amos, I know you've got nothing to lose in this. If you had, for the sake of your children—I mean Lydia, I'd hold off. But Levine can fix it up!'"
"So I could, ordinarily," said Levine in a troubled voice. "But it just happens that everything I've got on earth is shoe-stringed out to hang onto that pine section of mine up in Bear county. I'm mortgaged up to my eyebrows. Marshall knows it and sees a chance to get hold of the pines, damn him!"
Lydia sat up and rubbed her eyes.
"Well! Well! young Lydia," cried Levine. "Had a fine sleep, didn't you!"
"I'm awful hungry," said the child.
"Bless your soul," exclaimed Lizzie. "I'll warm your supper up for you in a minute."
Lydia stood with hands outstretched to the base burner, her hair tumbled, her glance traveling from Amos to Levine.
"What makes Mr. Marshall act so?" she asked.
"Sho," said Levine, "little girls your age don't know anything about such things, do they, Amos? Come here. You shall eat your supper on my lap."
"I'm getting too old for laps," said Lydia, coming very willingly nevertheless within the compass of John's long arms. "But I love you next to Daddy now, in all the world."