Angie was the first to recover. "Here," she said, hastily extending her plate, "take this." Without a word the starved creature grasped it and began eating as only a desperate, hungry animal would, while the group watched her. "Don't hurry so," exclaimed Martin, whose wits had now returned. "Here, take this cup of coffee." Soon the food vanished and then the girl arose. "Sit down again, my poor child," entreated Angie, who had observed the strange scene with moist eyes, "and tell us who you are and where you came from." "My name's Chip," answered the girl, bluntly, "an' I'm runnin' away from Tim's Place, 'cause dad sold me to Pete Bolduc." "Sold--you--to--Pete--Bolduc," exclaimed Angie, looking at her wide-eyed. "What do you mean?" "He did, sartin," answered the girl, laconically. "I heerd 'em makin' the bargain, 'n' I fetched three hundred dollars." Martin and his wife exchanged glances. "Well, and then what?" continued Angie. "Wal, then I waited a spell, till they'd turned in," explained the girl, "and then I lit out. I knowed 'twas sixty miles to the settlement, but 'twas moonlight 'n' I chanced it. I've had an awful time, though, the spites hev chased me all the way. I was jist makin' a nestle when I seed yer light, an' I crept through the brush 'n' peeked. I seen ye wa'n't nobody from Tim's Place, 'n' then I cum out. I guess you've saved my life. I was gittin' dizzy." It was a brief, blunt story whose directness bespoke truth; but it revealed such a pigsty state of morality at this Tim's Place that the little group of astonished listeners could scarce finish supper or cease watching this much-soiled girl. "And so your name is Chip," queried Angie at last. "Chip what?" "Chip McGuire," answered the waif, quickly; "only my real name ain't Chip, it's Vera; but they've allus called me Chip at Tim's Place." "And your father sold you to this man?" "He did, 'n' he's a damn bad man," replied Chip, readily. "He killed somebody once, an' he don't show up often. I hate him!" "You mustn't use swear words," returned Angie, "it's not nice." The girl looked abashed. "I guess you'd cuss if you'd been sold to such a nasty-looking man as Pete," she responded. "He chaws terbaccer 'n' lets it drizzle on his chin, 'n' he hain't but one eye." Angie smiled, while Martin stared at the girl with increased astonishment. He knew who this McGuire was, and something of his history, and that Tim's Place was a hillside clearing far up the river, inhabited by an Irish family devoted to the raising of potatoes. He had halted there once, long enough to observe its somewhat slothful condition, and to buy pork and potatoes; but this tale was a revelation, and the girl herself a greater one. This oasis in the wilderness was fully forty miles above here, its only connection with civilization was a seldom-used log road which only an experienced woodsman could follow, and how this mere child had dared it, was a marvel.