Sure she
wouldn't see nothin' wrong for me to get something to eat. I
ain't got no money. They took it all away from me, an' I got
a right to live--but, somehow, I hate to do it. I wisht there
was some other way. Gee, but she's made a sissy out o' me!
Funny how a feller can change. Why I almost like bein' a
sissy," and Billy Byrne grinned at the almost inconceivable
idea.
Before Billy came to a road he saw a light down in a little
depression at one side of the track. It was not such a light as
a lamp shining beyond a window makes. It rose and fell,
winking and flaring close to the ground.
It looked much like a camp fire, and as Billy drew nearer
he saw that such it was, and he heard a voice, too. Billy
approached more carefully. He must be careful always to see
before being seen. The little fire burned upon the bank of a
stream which the track bridged upon a concrete arch.
Billy dropped once more from the right of way, and
climbed a fence into a thin wood. Through this he approached
the camp fire with small chance of being observed.
As he neared it the voice resolved itself into articulate words,
and presently Billy leaned against a tree close behind the
speaker and listened.
There was but a single figure beside the small fire--that of
a man squatting upon his haunches roasting something above
the flames.
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