"Now then," began Franz, "who did yon nipped cove come here to see, you or me, old un? He 'pears to know a little about us both." "Yes," assented Papa, "so he does." "What he knows about me, I reckon he told," resumed Franz. "Now, what's the killin' affair mentioned?" Papa seemed to ponder a moment, and then lifted his eyes to his son's face with a look of bland ingenuousness. "It's a kind of delicate affair, my boy," he began, in a tone of confidential frankness, "but 'twon't do for _us_ to have secrets from each other--will it, old woman?" "No," said Mamma; "Franzy's our right hand now. You ort to tell him all about it." "Oh, git along," burst in Franz. "Give us the racket, an' cut it mighty short--time enough for pertikelers later." "Quite right, my boy," said Papa, briskly. "Well, here it is: I--I'm wanted, for a witness, in a--a murder case." "Oh," groaned Franz, in tones of exaggerated grief, "my heart is broke!" "You needn't laugh, Franzy," remonstrated Papa, aggrieved. "It's the business I was tellin' you about--at the other place, you know." "Well, see here, old un, my head's been considerable mixed to-night; seems to me ye did tell me a yarn, but tell it agin." "Why, there's not much of it. We was doing well; I bought rags an'--an' things." "Rags an' things--oh, yes!" "An' we was very comfortable. But one night--" and Papa turned his eyes toward Mamma, as if expecting her to confirm all that he said--"one night, when there was a number there, a fight broke out. We was in another room, the old woman an' me,--" "Yes," interjected Mamma, "we was." "An' we ran in, an' tried to stop the fight." Mamma nodded approvingly. "But we wasn't strong enough. Before we could see who did it, a man was killed. And in a minute we heard the police coming. Before they got there, we had all left, and they found no one but the dead man to arrest. Ever since, they've been tryin' to find out who did the killin'." "Um!" grunted Franz, "and did you tell me they had arrested somebody?" "No, my boy. They caught one fellow, a sailor, but he got away." "Oh, he got away. How many was there, at the time of the killin'?" "There were three in the room, besides the man that was killed, and there was the old woman and me in the next room." "You forgit," interrupts Mamma, "there was Nance." "Oh, yes," rejoined Papa, as if grateful for the correction, "there was Nance." Franz glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping girl, and then asked sharply: "And what was Nance doin'." "Nance was layin' on a pile o' rags in a corner," broke in Mamma, "an' I had to drag her out." Franz gave utterance to something between a grunt and a chuckle. "So you dragged her out, did ye? 'Tain't exactly in your line neither, doin' that sort o' thing. Ye must a-thought that gal worth savin'." "She ain't worth savin' now," broke in Papa, hastily. "She's a stone around our necks."