Now, after the heavy storm of the previous night, the pool would be fresh and clean. Mollie had stolen some soap from the house. They would be able to cleanse the scratches and bruises and insect bites that kept them all in misery. The children nearly overwhelmed Mollie in their eagerness to be off. She glanced quickly toward the house, then up at the sun. It was not yet high. There would be time. "Run, then! Yo'-all go an' git in th' water. I'll be thar en time ter soap yo'," she told them. The children trooped off. Mollie came more slowly with Doris in her arms and Leathy by the hand. All too soon their frolic had to cease. But when they returned to the field to hoe those interminable rows of corn they looked very unlike the forlorn band of half-asleep, fretful and bedraggled youngsters that had first assembled. [Illustration: _Scene from Mary Pickford's Photoplay_. _Sparrows_. "DO YOU MEAN SLEEP HERE AND EAT--AND--EV'RYTHING?"] Baby Doris thought it a picnic--a glorious adventure that promised new entertainment every minute. Throughout the day Mollie had not the slightest trouble with her new and winsome charge. A bond of sympathy and understanding seemed to exist between them. Each was irresistibly drawn toward the other. But all day Mollie was thinking of a way of escape. To dig under the fence or to attempt to scale it would be hopeless. The children, even if they once were outside in the road, could not walk or even run fast enough to elude Grimes. And if any were overtaken they would be killed or, at best, treated worse than ever. No, whatever was undertaken must be accomplished. There must be no failure. No coming back. If they could only take the route followed by the sparrows, thought Mollie. Somewhere, beyond that bog, there was safety--if only they could reach it! And while the children worked in the corn-field and the police scoured the countryside and Stephen was moaning with fever, Peter Grimes learned what the newspapers had printed regarding the kidnapping. "Hell's banjers!" he thundered, bringing his great fist down heavily upon the table. "Th' police is a-goin' ter make arrests." "An' hain't thar goin' ter be no more money?" Maria asked in amazement, not unmixed with consternation. "Not ef Wayne doan pay thet ransom," growled Peter. "They're aimin' ter recover th' child." Maria turned and faced him. There are times when even a worm will turn. Maria had been improving in proportion to their financial condition. She wore shoes now and sometimes combed her hair. And she didn't use her snuff dip as constantly as formerly. Maria was getting ambitious. "I was afeared ter hev yo' hol' thet child," she said. "Aw, shet up. Yo' didn't know a damned thing about hit." "I s'picioned hit. En now, ef they come hyar an' git her, they'll git all th' young-uns--" "Like hell they'll git her! I'll fling her so fur--" He paused and started for the door.