Mollie wondered, dully, how it would seem to have somebody wait upon her as she waited upon them. When she first came to the farm there had been only herself--and Splutters. They had been frightened by the storms and the dark, and they had had to sit, shivering and crying, until they had fallen asleep from sheer weariness. It was because she knew from experience how awful it was that she had so much sympathy and patience with the little ones. Now, there were some comforts. She had even managed to warm milk for the baby. But little Amy was fast lapsing into a condition where neither milk, dollies, nor any of the ordinary consolations of babyhood would interest or aid her. White and still she lay, unmindful, possibly unconscious of the children's efforts to help and amuse. How the thunder crashed! It fairly jarred the old barn. The lightning was almost continuous. Suppose something should happen? What would they do! What could they do? And where, oh, where was Stevie? Mollie ran frantically from one child to the other in a desperate effort to quiet them and get them settled for the night. This was difficult, for they were all hungry. Always with barely enough food to keep them alive, their hunger became acute and painful when Grimes took away their supper as he had done to-night because Mollie, in her efforts to relieve their hunger had filled her dress with potatoes. A furious slap administered to Ambrose had revealed the potatoes. The ungainly youth had taken pleasure in witnessing her punishment and her tearful pleas to Grimes not to take away the children's food because of what she, alone, had done. Grimes had long ago learned that the way to make Mollie suffer was by making the children unhappy and miserable. But as the storm increased in fury she took what was left of the picture books from their hiding place, gathered the children about her and told them the stories anew. It would serve, she thought, to dispel their fears and make them forget their misery. Just as that object had been accomplished the bell over the gate clanged forth above the roar of the storm. It sent every child scurrying to the usual cracks and crevices for observation. Mollie as quickly extinguished the light. It would be wise to let Grimes think them asleep. "Thar he goes with a lantern," exclaimed Johnnie, as Grimes came forth from the house and strode, with more alacrity than they had ever seen him manifest, down to the gate, where the bell continued to ring. "Mebbe hit's Splutters comin' back," suggested one of the children. "I wisht hit war." "Oh, no!" exclaimed Mollie. "We mustn't wish him back hyar. He war sick. He wanted to git away. Ef he gits a chanst he'll tell somebody erbout us. Thet hain't him. See, hit's a man." "He's a carryin' sumpin'--I reckon hit's another baby." "What's thet big light a-blazin' down thar?" "Aw, hit's a owttymobeel--hain't yo'-all ever seed one? I hev."