“Do you all know this little girl? She sort of took up with me and I cant find where she lives.”
They quit looking at me and looked at her.
“Must be one of them new Italian families,” one said. He wore a rusty frock coat. “I’ve seen her before. What’s your name, little girl?” She looked at them blackly for awhile, her jaws moving steadily. She swallowed without ceasing to chew.
“Maybe she cant speak English,” the other said.
“They sent her after bread,” I said. “She must be able to speak something.”
“What’s your pa’s name?” the first said. “Pete? Joe? name John huh?” She took another bite from the bun.
“What must I do with her?” I said. “She just follows me. I’ve got to get back to Boston.”
“You from the college?”
“Yes, sir. And I’ve got to get on back.”
“You might go up the street and turn her over to Anse. He’ll be up at the livery stable. The marshall.”