“Yah!” muttered the old woman feebly.  “Who’s they, Lizer?” she said, shading her eyes with one trembling hand, while she looked at Calton and the detective.

“The perlice cove an’ the swell,” said Lizer, suddenly.  “Come to see yer turn up your toes.”

“I ain’t dead yet, ye whelp,” snarled the hag with sudden energy; “an’ if I gits up I’ll turn up yer toes, cuss ye.”

Lizer gave a shrill laugh of disdain, and Kilsip stepped forward.

“None of this,” he said, sharply, taking Lizer by one thin shoulder, and pushing her over to where the other girl was crouching; “stop there till I tell you to move.”

Lizer tossed back her tangled black hair, and was about to make some impudent reply, when the other girl, who was older and wiser, put out her hand, and pulled her down beside her.

Meanwhile, Calton was addressing himself to the old woman in the corner.

“You wanted to see me?” he said gently, for, notwithstanding his repugnance to her, she was, after all, a woman, and dying.

“Yes, cuss ye,” croaked Mother Guttersnipe, lying down, and pulling the greasy bedclothes up to her neck.  “You ain’t a parson?” with sudden suspicion.

“No, I am a lawyer.”

“I ain’t a-goin’ to have the cussed parsons a-prowlin’ round ’ere,” growled the old woman, viciously.  “I ain’t a-goin’ to die yet, cuss ye; I’m goin’ to get well an’ strong, an’ ’ave a good time of it.”

“I’m afraid you won’t recover,” said Calton, gently.  “You had better let me send for a doctor.”

“No, I shan’t,” retorted the hag, aiming a blow at him with all her feeble strength.  “I ain’t a-goin’ to have my inside spil’d with salts and senner.  I don’t want neither parsons nor doctors, I don’t.  I wouldn’t ‘ave a lawyer, only I’m a-thinkin’ of makin’ my will, I am.”

“Mind I gits the watch,” yelled Lizer, from the corner.  “If you gives it to Sal I’ll tear her eyes out.”

“Silence!” said Kilsip, sharply, and, with a muttered curse, Lizer sat back in her corner.

“Sharper than a serpent’s tooth, she are,” whined the old woman, when quiet was once more restored.  “That young devil ’ave fed at my ’ome, an’ now she turns, cuss her.”

“Well—­well,” said Calton, rather impatiently, “what is it you wanted to see me about?”

“Don’t be in such a ’urry,” said the hag, with a scowl, “or I’m blamed if I tell you anything, s’elp me.”

She was evidently growing very weak, so Calton turned to Kilsip and told him in a whisper to get a doctor.  The detective scribbled a note on some paper, and, giving it to Lizer, ordered her to take it.  At this, the other girl arose, and, putting her arm in that of the child’s, they left together.

“Them two young ’usseys gone?” said Mother Guttersnipe.  “Right you are, for I don’t want what I’ve got to tell to git into the noospaper, I don’t.”

“And what is it?” asked Calton, bending forward.