“Would its mother know it if she saw it?” asked Pinky.

“No; for she never set eyes on it.”

“Then, if it dies, get another baby, and keep track of that.  You can steal one from a drunken mother any night in the week.  I’ll do it for you.  One baby is as good as another.”

“It will be safer to have the real one,” replied Mrs. Bray.  “And now, Pinky that you have put this thing into my head, I guess I’ll commission you to get the baby away from that woman.”

“All right!”

“But what are we to do with it?  I can’t have it here.”

“Of course you can’t.  But that’s easily managed, if your’re willing to pay for it.”

“Pay for it?”

“Yes; if it isn’t begged with, and made to pay its way and earn something into the bargain, it’s got to be a dead weight on somebody.  So you see how it is, Fan.  Now, if you’ll take a fool’s advice, you’ll let ’it go to the almshouse, or let it alone to die and get out of its misery as soon as possible.  You can find another baby that will do just as well, if you should ever need one.”

“How much would it cost, do you think, to have it boarded with some one who wouldn’t abuse it?  She might beg with it herself, or hire it out two or three times a week.  I guess it would stand that.”

“Beggars don’t belong to the merciful kind,” answered Pinky; “there’s no trusting any of them.  A baby in their hands is never safe.  I’ve seen ’em brought in at night more dead than alive, and tossed on a dirty rag-heap to die before morning.  I’m always glad when they’re out of their misery, poor things!  The fact is, Fan, if you expect that baby to live, you’ve got to take it clean out of the hands of beggars.”

“What could I get it boarded for outright?” asked Mrs. Bray.

“For ’most anything, ’cording to how it’s done.  But why not, while you’re about it, bleed the old lady, its grandmother, a little deeper, and take a few drops for the baby?”

“Guess you’re kind o’ right about that, Fan; anyhow, we’ll make a start on it.  You find another place for the brat.”

“’Greed; when shall I do it?”

“The sooner, the better.  It might die of cold any night in that horrible den.  Ugh!”

“I’ve been in worse places.  Bedlow street is full of them, and so is Briar street and Dirty alley.  You don’t know anything about it.”

“Maybe not, and maybe I don’t care to know.  At present I want to settle about this baby.  You’ll find another place for it?”

“Yes.”

“And then steal it from the woman who has it now?”

“Yes; no trouble in the world.  She’s drunk every night,” answered Pinky Swett, rising to go.

“You’ll see me to-morrow?” said Mrs. Bray.

“Oh yes.”

“And you won’t forget about the policies?”

“Not I. We shall make a grand hit, or I’m a fool.  Day-day!” Pinky waved her hand gayly, and then retired.