"I wish,"--she begins, then pauses and slowly draws a folded paper from her pocket; "I wish we could git this signed _first_." Papa coughs slightly, and turns an anxious look toward the door. "I'm afraid it wouldn't be safe," he says. Then he starts and turns toward the closet. "You're sure she won't wake up?" he whispers. Mamma turns upon him angrily. "D'ye s'pose I'd run any risk now?" she hisses. "She's got a powerful dose of Nance's quietin' stuff. Don't you be afeared about _her_. All we want is to git this business over, and that little paper signed." "I'm dreadful uneasy," sighs Papa. "I wish I was sure how this thing would come out." "Wall, I kin tell ye. When the gal gits hold of her little one, she'll turn her back on us all. Married or not, she'll never own Franzy. And I don't s'pose the boy'll care much; it's the money he's after. She'll give him _that_ fast enough, and he'll always know where to look for more. As for us, this marrying makes us safe. She'd die before she'd have it known, and she can't make us any trouble without its coming out. She'll be glad to take her young un, and let us alone. Don't you see that even after she's got the young un, we shall have her in a tighter grip than ever, once she's married to Franzy? As fer the paper she's to sign, it won't hold good in law, but it will hold with _her_. And she won't go to a lawyer with it; be sure of that." "Hark!" ejaculates Papa. And in another instant, there is a stumbling step outside, and a heavy thump upon the door. "It's Franz," whispers Mamma. And she hastens to admit her Prodigal. As he enters, Mamma's sharp eye notes his flushed face and exaggerated swagger, and she greets him with an indignant sniff. "Couldn't ye keep sober jist once?" she grumbles, as he pauses before her. "Where's the Preach?" "Oh, I'm sober enough," grins Franz. "And the Preach is coming. He's bringin' a witness." Papa and Mamma exchange swift glances. Franz, sober, is not the most agreeable and dutiful of sons; Franz, in liquor, is liable to sudden violent outbreaks, if not delicately handled. Papa makes a signal which Mamma interprets: "Don't irritate him." And the two continue to eye him anxiously as he crosses the room and attempts to open the door of the inner apartment. "Locked!" he mutters, and turns toward Mamma. "Out with your key, old un," he says quite amiably; "the Preach 'ull be here in five minutes, and what ye've got to say, all round, had better be said afore he comes. Open this." "The boy's right enough," mutters Papa. "Open the door, old woman." Silently Mamma obeys, and Franz is the first to enter the room. He goes straight over to the table where Leslie sits, scarcely stirring at their entrance, and he looks down at her intently. "See here, Leschen," he says, "don't think that this lockin' ye in is my doin's, or that it's goin' to be continued. It's the old woman as is takin' such precious care of ye."