But Jenny shook her head.
"I got one," said Annie. For she remembered she had not finished the bottle before she went to sleep by the fire. She hunted for the bottle and found it. It was empty!
"Some dam' tief stealum," screamed Annie. Who could it have been but Annawillee?
"I never takum," yelled Annawillee when the old hag got her by the hair and tugged at it. "You old beast, leggo me. I never tak' um."
Jenny cried out to Annie. It was awful to see this in her agony of grief.
"I get mo'," said Annie. "I got dolla. I find Chihuahua, he buy bottle whisky!"
She went out. Annawillee wrung her hair into a horrid coil and knotted it clumsily at the back of her neck. She cried about her dead papoosh. The tears ran down her dirty face.
Outside the hum and murmur of the crowd still endured. Every now and again there was a crash, as some of the great Mill fell in. Piles of lumber caught: they roared to the skies in wavering columns. The crowd laughed and moaned and roared and was silent, as the sea beach is silent between great breakers.
And George was on the river hunting Pete! Jenny clutched her baby to her bosom. Annawillee went on crying. Then the door opened and Annie came back.
"I send Chihuahua. He get dlink. Dlink velly good for you, Jenny. By-by Shautch Quin come back and say I good to you, and he be good to poor old Annie, who get you for heem, tenas!"