During the next two weeks, while Flukey was fighting with death, and the great Shellington mansion was as silent as a tomb, Scraggy Peterson was tramping back to the squatter country. When she reached Ithaca, she was almost too ill to start up the Lehigh Valley tracks toward her hut. The black cat clung to her tattered jacket, his wizard-eyes shining green, as Screech Owl passed under the gas-lamps. It was almost ten o'clock at night when she unlatched her shanty door and kindled a fire. The larder was bare, save for some crusts of hard bread. These the woman soaked in hot water and shared with the cat. Then, in a state of great exhaustion, she picked up Black Pussy, blew out the candle, and, for the first time in many days, slept in her own hut.
On the shore below Lem Crabbe's scow was drawn up near the Cronk hut. The squatter and scowman were conversing in the dim light of a lantern that swung from Lem's hook.
"Did ye make any hauls while ye was gone, Lem?" asked Lon.
"Nope, only sold the lumber. I ain't trying nothin' alone."
"It was cussed mean I couldn't go along with ye," Lon said; "but I had to stay to hum. Did ye know that Mammy were dead?"
"Nope!"
"Yep, and buried, too! She fretted over the brats, and kep' a sayin' they was dead in the lake. But I know they jest runned off some'ers."
"I know it, too," Lem grunted savagely. "The gal didn't have no likin' for me."
"I jest see Scraggy come hum," ventured Lon. "She's been gone for a long while. She were a comin' down the tracks."
Lem muttered a savage oath, and faced the scow preparatory to entering. Looking back over his shoulder, he asked: "Be ye comin' in, Lon?"
"Nope; I'm goin' to bed. Say, Lem, while ye was away, ye didn't get ear of no good place to make a haul soon, did ye?"
"Yep; I tied up to Tarrytown goin' down. There be heaps of rich folks there. Middy Burnes what runs the tug says as how there be a feller there richer than the devil.... Hell! I've forgot his name!"
Lem halted on the gangplank and thought for a moment.
"Nope, I ain't; I jest thought of it!... Shellington! That's him, and he's a fine house, and many's the room filled with--"
Lon broke in upon Lem with a growl: "Then we'll separate him from some of his jewjaws. I bet we has a little of his pile afore another month goes by!"