So regular had been the child's visits,
and so gently excited, yet powerful her influence over her father,
that most of the frequenters at the 'Sickle and Sheaf' had felt
for her a more than common interest; which the cruel treatment she
received, and the subsequent illness, materially heightened.
"Joe Morgan hasn't turned up this evening," remarked some one.
"And isn't likely to for a while" was answered.
"Why not?" inquired the first speaker.
"They say the man with the poker is after him."
"Oh, dear that's dreadful. Its the second or third chase, isn't
it?"
"Yes."
"He'll be likely to catch him this time."
"I shouldn't wonder."
"Poor devil! It won't be much matter. His family will be a great
deal better without him."
"It will be a blessing to them if he dies."
"Miserable, drunken wretch!" muttered Harvey Green who was
present. "He's only in the way of everybody. The sooner he's off,
the better."
The landlord said nothing. He stood leaning across the bar,
looking more sober than usual.
"That was rather an unlucky affair of yours Simon. They say the
child is going to die."
"Who says so?" Slade started, scowled and threw a quick glance
upon the speaker.
"Doctor Green."
"Nonsense! Doctor Green never said any such thing."
"Yes, he did though."
"Who heard him?"
"I did."
"You did?"
"Yes."
"He wasn't in earnest?" A slight paleness overspread the
countenance of the landlord.
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