Cathy's eyes widened, her cheeks expanding to a smile. On examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a yard in length, and more than an inch square. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night. “Get you a cold one?” “No thanks. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. “He dissembles,” he said. In spite of God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the elmtrees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in weeping.
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