Later, by an hour, the mules came to a halt at Lem's order.
"Throw down that gangplank, Scraggy," stammered Crabbe, "and put the brat below! I want to get these here mules in. The storm'll be here in any minute."
Obediently the woman hastened to comply, and soon the tired mules munched their suppers, their long faces filling the window-gaps of the stable.
Lem Crabbe followed the woman down the scow-steps amid gusty howls of the wind, and the night fell over the city and the black, winding river. The man ate his supper in silence, furtively casting his eyes now and then upon the slender figure of the woman. He chewed fast, uttering no word, and the creaking of the heavy jaws and the smacking of the coarse lips were the only sounds to be heard after the woman had taken her place at the table. Scraggy dared not yet begin to eat; for something new in her master's manner filled her with sudden fear. By sitting very quietly, she hoped to keep his attention upon his plate, and after he had eaten he would go to bed. She was aroused from this thought by the feeble whimper of her child in the tiny room of the scow's bow. Although the woman heard, she made no move to answer the weak summons.
She rose languidly as the child began to cry more loudly; but a command from Lem stopped her.
"Set down!" he said.
"The brat's a wailin'," replied Scraggy hoarsely.
"Set down, and let him wail!" shouted Lem.
Scraggy sank unnerved into the chair, gazing at him with terrified eyes. "Why, Lem, he's too little to cry overmuch."
"Keep a settin', I say! Let him yap!"
For the second time that day Scraggy's face shaded to the color of ashes, and her gaze dropped before the fierce eyes directed upon her.
"Ye said more'n once, Scraggy," began Lem, "that I wasn't to drink no more whisky. Whose money pays for what I drink? That's what I want ye to tell me!"
"Yer money, Lem dear."
"And ye say as how I couldn't drink what I pay for?"
"Yep, I has said it," was the timid answer. "Ye drink too much--that's what ye do! Ye ain't no mind left, ye ain't! And it makes ye ugly, so it does!"
"Be it any of yer business?" demanded Lem insultingly, as he filled his mouth with a piece of brown bread. After washing it down with a drink of whisky, he finished, "Ye ain't no relation to me, be ye?"