Mrs. Baxter screamed faintly.

“An’ he got hung, mamma!  If you don’t believe it, you can ask One-eye Beljus—­I guess he knows!  An’ you can ask—­”

“Hush!”

“An’ he sold this suit to One-eye Beljus when he was in jail, mamma.  He sold it to him before he got hung, mamma.”

“Hush, Jane!”

But Jane couldn’t hush now.  “An’ he had that suit on when he cut the lady’s head off, mamma, an’ that’s why it’s haunted.  They cleaned it all up excep’ a few little spots of bl—­”

“Jane!” shouted her mother.  “You must not talk about such things, and Genesis mustn’t tell, you stories of that sort!”

“Well, how could he help it, if he told me about Willie?” Jane urged, reasonably.

“Never mind!  Did that crazy ch—­Did Willie leave the baskets in that dreadful place?”

“Yes’m—­an’ his watch an’ pin,” Jane informed her, impressively.  “An’ One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis knew Willie, because One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis thought Willie could get the three dollars an; sixty cents, an’ One-eye Beljus wanted to know if Genesis thought he could get anything more out of him besides that.  He told Genesis he hadn’t told Willie he could have the suit, after all; he just told him he thought he could, but he wouldn’t say for certain till he brought him the three dollars an’ sixty cents.  So Willie left all his things there, an’ his watch an—­”

“That will do!” Mrs. Baxter’s voice was sharper than it had ever been in Jane’s recollection.  “I don’t need to hear any more—­and I don’t want to hear any more!”

Jane was justly aggrieved.  “But, mamma, it isn’t my fault!”

Mrs. Baxter’s lips parted to speak, but she checked herself.  “Fault?” she said, gravely.  “I wonder whose fault it really is!”

And with that she went hurriedly into William’s room and made a brief inspection of his clothes-closet and dressing-table.  Then, as Jane watched her in awed silence, she strode to the window, and called, loudly: 

“Genesis!”

“Yes’m?” came the voice from below.

“Go to that lumber-yard where Mr. William is at work and bring him here to me at once.  If he declines to come, tell him—­” Her voice broke oddly; she choked, but Jane could not decide with what emotion.  “Tell him—­tell him I ordered you to use force if necessary!  Hurry!”

“Yes’m!”

Jane ran to the window in time to see Genesis departing seriously through the back gate.

“Mamma—­”

“Don’t talk to me now, Jane,” Mrs. Baxter said, crisply.  “I want you to go down in the yard, and when Willie comes tell him I’m waiting for him here in his own room.  And don’t come with him, Jane.  Run!”

“Yes, mamma.”  Jane was pleased with this appointment; she anxiously desired to be the first to see how Willie “looked.”

...  He looked flurried and flustered and breathless, and there were blisters upon the reddened palms of his hands.  “What on earth’s the matter, mother?” he asked, as he stood panting before her.  “Genesis said something was wrong, and he said you told him to hit me if I wouldn’t come.”