He sidled out of the room and disappeared, and Mrs. Folcutt's covetous eye wandered over 'Tilda Jane's wearing apparel. "Say, sissy, that's a pooty fair shawl you took off'n your dog. I always favour stripes."
"So do I," replied 'Tilda Jane, and, with a premonition of what was coming, she turned her head and gazed out the window.
"I guess you might as well square up with us," said the slatternly woman, seating herself near her caller and speaking in' persuasive accents, "and then you'll not hev to be beholden to Bob Lucas. It's jus' as well for a nice little gal like you to hev no dealin's with them Lucases."
"That shawl ain't mine," said 'Tilda Jane, sharply.
This statement did not seem worth challenging by the woman, for she went on in the same wheedling voice, "You'll not hev no call for it on the cars. I kin lend you somethin' for the dog to ride down in. It's too good for wrappin' him," and she gazed contemptuously at Gippie.
'Tilda Jane drew in her wandering gaze from the window, and fixed it desperately on Poacher, who was lying under the stove winking sadly but amiably at her. Was no one perfect? Lucas hunted deer, this good dog helped him, his boys were naughty, this woman was a sloven and a kind of thief, her boy was a rogue, and she herself—'Tilda Jane was a little runaway girl. "You can have this tippet," she said, sternly. "That shawl's got to be sent back to where it comes from."
"Oh, you stole it, did ye?" said the woman, with a sneer. "Well, I guess we kin hitch up for no thieves," and she got up and moved deliberately toward the door as if she would recall her son.
'Tilda Jane's nimble fancy ran over possibilities. She had fallen among sharpers, she must be as sharp as they. Her offensive manner fell from her. "Look here," she said, bluntly, "I ain't got one mite o' money but that fifty-cent piece. If your boy'll drive me to Nicatoos right off, I'll give him that as I said, an' I'll send back the shawl by him. But if you don't want to do it, speak right up, an' I'll move on to the next house, and," she continued boldly as she saw consent on the cunning face, "you've got to give me somethin' to eat an' drink with it, 'cause I've got two dogs to take care of, an' I don't want to get to Ciscasset and tumble over from bein' fainty."
Mrs. Folcutt's gray face became illumined by a silly smile. There was not a shawl like that in the settlement, and bustling to her feet, she stroked it and felt it with admiring fingers, until admonished by 'Tilda Jane that time was passing, and if she was going to get her anything to eat she had better be quick about it.