"I won't ever read 'em 'cept nights," promised the boy. "Honest, Mister Barber! And y' know y' like me t' read good. When--when Mister Maloney was here, why, y' liked it. And y' can lock 'em all away in the bedroom if y' don't b'lieve me!" Big Tom leered down at him. "Oh, I'll lock 'em up, all right," he said. "I'll do it up so brown that there won't be no more danger o' this scout business 'round the place, and no more readin'." With that, he took up both the books and the suit and turned. At the same moment Cis and Johnnie understood what was impending--the same terrible moment; and they cried out together, the one in renewed anger, the other in mortal pain: "_NO!_" For Barber had turned--_to the stove_. Johnnie rushed to the longshoreman and again clung to him, weeping, pleading, promising, asking to be whipped--oh, anything but that his treasures be destroyed. And at the table, Cis wept, too, and threatened, calling for help, striving to divert Big Tom from his purpose, trying to lash him into a rage against herself. "Oh, Mister Barber, y' wouldn't!" Johnnie cried. "They're ev'rything I got in the world! And I love 'em so! Oh, I'll stay forever with y' if y' won't hurt 'em! I'll work so hard, and be so good----!" Barber uncovered the fire--that fire which Johnnie had built for the baking of Big Tom's pudding. "The medal!" Cis shouted, straining at the rope which bound her. "Don't let him burn that! Johnnie! Johnnie!" Johnnie caught at the coat. "In a pocket!" he explained. "My father's! Look for it! Let me!" "A--what?" inquired Big Tom, lifting books and uniform out of the boy's reach. "What're y' talkin' about?" "Don't you _dare_ burn it!" Cis stormed. "They'll arrest you! See if they don't! You give it to Johnnie! If you don't, I'll tell the police! I will! _I will!_" "Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!" laughed Barber. Holding everything under one arm, he took off a second stove lid, as well as the hour-glass-shaped support between the two front lids. The whole of the firebox was uncovered. It was a mass of coals. As the longshoreman hung over the fire, his dark face was lit by it. And now lifted in a horrid smile! Cis's voice rose again. Nothing could save Johnnie's books and suit: there was no need to keep silent. "He's a devil!" she cried. "He isn't a man at all! Look! He's enjoying himself! He's grinning! Oh, Johnnie, _look at his face_!"