Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and PG Distributed Proofreaders CALVARY ALLEY BY ALICE HEGAN RICE 1917 Author of "MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH," "LOVEY MARY," "SANDY," ETC. ILLUSTRATED BY WALTER BIGGS THIS STORY IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO THE SMALL BAND OF KENTUCKY WRITERS WITH WHOM IT HAS BEEN MY HAPPY FORTUNE TO MAKE THE LITERARY PILGRIMAGE CONTENTS CHAPTER I THE FIGHT II THE SNAWDORS AT HOME III THE CLARKES AT HOME IV JUVENILE COURT V ON PROBATION VI BUTTERNUT LANE VII AN EVICTION VIII AMBITION STIRS IX BUTTONS X THE PRINCESS COMES TO GRIEF XI THE STATE TAKES A HAND XII CLARKE'S XIII EIGHT TO SIX XIV IDLENESS XV MARKING TIME XVI MISS BOBINET'S XVII BEHIND THE TWINKLING LIGHTS XVIII THE FIRST NIGHT XIX PREPARATIONS FOR FLIGHT XX WILD OATS XXI DAN XXII IN THE SIGNAL TOWER XXIII CALVARY CATHEDRAL XXIV BACK AT CLARKE'S XXV MAC XXVI BETWEEN TWO FIRES XXVII FATE TAKES A HAND XXVIII THE PRICE OF ENLIGHTENMENT XXIX IN TRAINING XXX HER FIRST CASE XXXI MR. DEMRY XXXII THE NEW FOREMAN XXXIII NANCE COMES INTO HER OWN LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "The boy is infatuated with that girl" "Her tense muscles relaxed; she forgot to cry" "Don't call a policeman!" she implored wildly CALVARY ALLEY CHAPTER I THE FIGHT You never would guess in visiting Cathedral Court, with its people's hall and its public baths, its clean, paved street and general air of smug propriety, that it harbors a notorious past. But those who knew it by its maiden name, before it was married to respectability, recall Calvary Alley as a region of swarming tenements, stale beer dives, and frequent police raids. The sole remaining trace of those unregenerate days is the print of a child's foot in the concrete walk just where it leaves the court and turns into the cathedral yard. All the tired feet that once plodded home from factory and foundry, all the unsteady feet that staggered in from saloon and dance-hall, all the fleeing feet that sought a hiding place, have long since passed away and left no record of their passing. Only that one small footprint, with its perfect outline, still pauses on its way out of the alley into the great world beyond. At the time Nance Molloy stepped into that soft concrete and thus set in motion the series of events that was to influence her future career, she had never been told that her inalienable rights were life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Nevertheless she had claimed them intuitively. When at the age of one she had crawled out of the soap-box that served as a cradle, and had eaten half a box of stove polish, she was acting in strict accord with the Constitution.