“Anodder one, hey?  You found her lock up?”

“Yes, and I brought her away—­and I don’t know just what the matter is with me, Etienne.  I have not been inclined to put myself out for anybody in this world—­man, woman, or child—­of late years.  I had made up my mind to let the world run itself.”

“It is the way the rich man say—­he do not care.  But the poor man should care—­he should try to help odder poor man.  He should care.”

“Oh, there are things that can happen to make a man stop caring.  But I brought her away, just the same.  I—­I woke up—­or something.  I have been awake all night—­I have been thinking—­I had nothing else to do.  Insomnia has made me insane—­one night of it!” He laughed when the old man blinked at him.  “I’m so crazy that I want you to help me find some good woman who will take this child to board in a comfortable home.”

“Who’ll pay?”

“I’ll pay.  Oh, I am completely crazy—­I’m going to work—­earn money to pay her board.”

“I know a good woman near by—­she have leetle house, cat, plant in window.”

“That’s the kind.”

“I will tell you where she live.  You shall say you come from Etienne Provancher and it will make you good for her.”  He paused, raised a brown finger, then went on.  “But you shall not know where she live onless I may pay half the board money for the poor little one.  We have been togedder in it—­I tell some lie to the coroner—­we must be togedder in help the childs.”

There was firm resolve in old Etienne’s face and tones.

“Partnership it shall be, my old boy,” agreed the young man, heartily.  “I’m no pig—­I won’t keep a good man out of a real picnic.”  He rose and swept the child into his arms.  “Give me the address and hand her over the fence to me.  I’ll have to quit being nurse and find a real job.  By the way, Etienne, I heard a fat man weeping yesterday because he couldn’t get men to dig dirt for the Consolidated Water Company.  He seemed to take a great fancy to me.  Where’s their office?”

He received both the information and the child after he had climbed the fence.  Etienne was able to point out the little house of sanctuary from where he stood—­and he waved his rake reassuringly from a distance when the good woman came to the door, answering Farr’s knock.  He danced into the house with the child, behind the good woman, who had answered Etienne’s signal with a return flip of her apron; he was trying to bring a smile to the little face.

“You’ll have to lie to her more or less about her mother, good woman.  Etienne and I will tell you all about it when there’s time.  When she asks about her mother just give her something to eat and lie a bit.”  He set the child upon the table where the good woman was making fresh cookies.  He piled the little toys about her.  “I’m going to market, to market to buy a fat pig, and I’ll be home again, riggy-jig-jig,” he declared in a singsong that fetched a chuckle from the waif, and she followed him with a smile as he hurried out.  “That smile will sweeten a day’s work in the trench,” he assured himself.  “I sure am some foster-father when I get started!”