"I don't believe a word of it!" snapped Mrs. Potter. "If there is a child down there he ought to be in bed long ago."
"Yes'm," agreed Peter meekly. "That's so. You wouldn't put even a dog that size to bed hungry. So, if you could let me have about half-a-dozen eggs, I'll go right back."
"Six eggs at three cents is eighteen cents," said Mrs. Potter firmly, looking Peter directly in the eye. She was not bad looking. Her cheek bones were rather high and prominent and her cheeks hollow, and she had a strong chin for a woman, but the downward twist of discouragement that had marked her mouth during her later married years had already disappeared, giving place to a firmness that told she was well able to manage her own affairs. Peter drew his alarm-clock from beneath his coat and stood it on the kitchen table.
"I brought along this alarm-clock," he said, "so you'd know I'd come back like I say I will. She's a real good clock. I paid eighty cents for her when she was new, and I just fixed her up fresh to-day. She's running quite--quite a little, since I fixed her."
Mrs. Potter did not look at the clock. She looked at Peter.
"So!" she exclaimed. "So that's what you've come to, Peter Lane! Pawnin' your goods and chattels! That's what shiftless folks always come to in the end."
"And so, if you'll let me have half-a-dozen eggs, and maybe some pieces of bread and butter and a handful of coffee," said Peter, "I'll leave the clock right here as security that I'll come up first thing in the morning and saw wood 'til you tell me I've sawed enough."
Mrs. Potter took the clock in her hand and looked at Peter.
"How old did you say that boy is?" she asked.
"Goin' on three, I should judge. He's a real nice little feller," said Peter eagerly.
Mrs. Potter put the clock on her kitchen table.
"Fiddlesticks! I don't believe a word of it. Who else have you got down there?"
"Just his--his parent," said Peter, blushing. "I wisht you could see that little feller. Maybe I'll bring him up here to-morrow and let you see him."
"Maybe you won't!" said the widow. "If you 're hungry you can set down and I'll fry you as many eggs as you want to eat, but you can't come over me with no story about visitors bringin' you children on a night like this! No, sir! You don't get none of my eggs for your worthless tramps. Shall I fry you some?"