CHAPTER VMARY LOUISE BECOMES A PEACEMAKER
"Here are the dishes, exactly like the broken ones," reported MaryLouise in a jubilant tone as she set down her heavy basket. "Let us goin and wash them, Ingua, and put them away where they belong."
The child followed her into the house. All her former pent-up energyseemed to have evaporated. She moved in a dull sort of way thatbetokened grim resignation.
"I've be'n plannin' fer months to make a run fer it," she remarked asshe washed the new dishes and Mary Louise wiped them dry, "an' justwhen I'd mustered up courage to do the trick, along comes _you_ an'queered the whole game."
"You'll thank me for that, some day, Ingua. Aren't you glad, even now,that you have a home and shelter?"
"I ain't tickled to death about it. Home!" with a scornful glancearound the room, barren of all comforts. "A graveyard's a more cheerfulplace, to my notion."
"We must try to make it pleasanter, dear. I'm going to get acquaintedwith Mr. Cragg and coax him to brighten things up some, and buy yousome new clothes, and take better care of you."
Ingua fell back on a stool, fairly choking twixt amazement andderision.
"You! Coax Ol' Swallertail? Make him spend money on _me!_ Say, if yewasn't a stranger here, Mary Louise, I'd jes' laugh; but bein' as howyer a poor innercent, I'll only say ther' ain't no power on earth kincoax Gran'dad to do anything better than to scowl an' box my ears. Youdon't know him, but _I_ do."
"Meantime," said Mary Louise, refusing to argue the point, "here aresome little things for you to hide away, and to eat whenever youplease," and she took from the basket the canned goods she had boughtand set them in an enticing row upon the table.
Ingua stared at the groceries and then stared at Mary Louise. Her wanface flushed and then grew hard.
"Ye bought them fer _me?_" she asked.
"Yes; so you won't have to steal eggs to satisfy your natural hunger."
"Well, ye kin take the truck away ag'in. An' you'd better go with it,"said the girl indignantly. "We may be poor, but we ain't no beggars,an' we don't take charity from nobody."
"But your grandfather--"
"We'll pay our own bills an' buy our own fodder. The Craggs is jus' asgood as yer folks, an' I'm a Cragg to the backbone," she cried, hereyes glinting angrily. "If we want to starve, it's none o' yerbusiness, ner nobody else's," and springing up she seized the tins oneby one and sent them flying through the window, as she had sent thedishpan and dishes earlier in the morning. "Now, then, foller yercharity an' make yerself scarce!" and she stamped her foot defiantly atMary Louise, who was dumb with astonishment.
It was hard to understand this queer girl. She had made no objection toreplacing the broken dishes, yet a present of food aroused her toviolent anger. Her temper was positively something terrible in so smalla person and remembering her story of how Old Swallowtail had clenchedhis talon-like fingers and twisted Ingua's arm till she screamed withpain, Mary Louise could well believe the statement that the child was"a Cragg to the backbone."
But Mary Louise, although only a few years older than Ingua, had had agood deal more experience and was, moreover, a born diplomat.Astonished though she was, she quickly comprehended the peculiar prideexhibited in a refusal to accept food from a stranger and knew she mustsoothe the girl's outraged spirit of independence if they were toremain friends.
"I guess I'll have to beg your pardon, Ingua," she said quietly. "I wasgrieved that you are so often hungry, while I have so much more than Ineed, and the money which I spent was all my own, to do what I likedwith. If I were in your place, and you in mine, and we were good chums,as I know we're going to be, I'd be glad to have you help me in anylittle way you could. True friends, Ingua, share and share alike anddon't let any foolish pride come between them."
She spoke earnestly, with a ring of sincerity in her voice thatimpressed the other girl. Ingua's anger had melted as quickly as it hadroused and with sudden impulsiveness she seized Mary Louise's hands inher own and began to cry.
"I'm as wicked as they make 'em!" she wailed. "I know I am! But I can'thelp it, Mary Louise; it's borned in me. I want to be friends with ye,but I won't take your charity if I starve. Not now, anyhow. Here; I'llgo git the stuff an' put it back in yer basket, an' then ye kin lug ithome an' do what ye please with it."
They picked up the cans together, Ingua growing more calm and cheerfuleach moment. She even laughed at Mary Louise's disappointed expressionand said:
"I don't always hev tantrums. This is my bad day; but the devils'llwork out o' me by termorrer and I'll be sweet as sugar. I'm sorry; butit's the Cragg blood that sets me crazy, at times."
"Won't you run over and see me?" asked Mary Louise, preparing to gohome.
"When?"
"This afternoon."
Ingua shook her head.
"I dastn't," she said. "I gotta hold myself in, the rest o' the day,so's I won't fight with Ol' Swallertail when he comes home. Anyhow, Iain't fit t' show up aroun' yer swell place. That black coon o' yers'dturn me out, if he saw me comin', thinkin' I was a tramp."
Mary Louise had a bright idea.
"I'm going to have tea to-morrow afternoon in that summer-house acrossthe creek," said she. "I will be all alone and if you will come overand join me we'll have a nice visit together. Will you, Ingua?"
"I guess so," was the careless answer. "When ye're ready, jes' wave yerhan'ker'cher an if the devils ain't squeezin' my gizzard, like they isto-day, I'll be there in a jiffy."