fact, she's been quite silent; I was alarmed about her. It's the child's influence.")

"—Uncle Joe said," Caroline went on, the roll at her mouth, "and he said I was a regular little snake."

She heard a guttural, growling sound beside her, lifted her eyes innocently, and for one flashing, doubtful second beheld the swollen, distorted face, the bulging eyes, the back-drawn snarling lips beside her. She did not see the plunging fork above her head, so quickly did Joan's arm intervene between her and it; she did not hear its impact against the big doctor's plate nor the gurgling voice of what had been the sad-eyed little woman beside her, for her head was buried in Joan's stifling skirt.

"Kill the snake! Kill the snake!" some one—or something—yelled, and then a grip of iron caught her arm and the voice of Bluelegs said sternly:

"Look straight ahead of you—don't turn your head! Don't turn, Miss Aitken—you can do nothing—they have her safe. The guards are here."