I been handin' out laws to engines fer goin' on thirty
year, an' I never seen one yet that bust over a law that didn't come to
grief. You keep on the track, Sister, an' watch the signals an' obey
orders an' you'll find it pays in the end. An' now, buck up, an' don't be
scared. We'll see what we can do to git you off."
"Who's skeered?" said Nance, with a defiant toss of her head. "I ain't
skeered of nothin'."
But that night when Mrs. Snawdor and Uncle Jed had gone to work, and Mr.
Snawdor had betaken himself out of ear-shot of the wailing baby, Nance's
courage began to waver. After she had finished her work and crawled into
bed between Fidy and Lobelia, the juvenile court, with its unknown
terrors, rose before her. All the excitement of the day died out; her
pride in sharing the punishment with Dan Lewis vanished. She lay staring
up into the darkness, swallowing valiantly to keep down the sobs,
fiercely resolved not to let her bed-fellows witness the break-down of
her courage.
"What's the matter, Nance?" asked Fidy.
"I'm hot!" said Nance, crossly. "It feels like the inside of a
oven in here!"
"I bet Maw forgot to open the window into the shaft," said Fidy.
"Windows don't do no good," said Nance; "they just let in smells. Wisht I
was a man! You bet I would be up at Slap Jack's! I'd set under a 'lectric
fan, an' pour cold things down me an' listen at the 'phoney-graf ever'
night. Hush! Is that our baby?"
A faint wail made her scramble out of bed and rush into the back room
where she gathered a hot, squirming bundle into her arms and peered
anxiously into its wizened face.
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