An' now they say I dar'n't be called by
Tom's name, nor sign it neither, an' they're a-goin' to take me
contract away for puttin' his name at the bottom of it, just as
I've put it on ivery other bit o' paper I've touched ink to these
seven years since he left me."
"Why, Tom, this is nonsense. Who says so?" said Babcock
earnestly, glad of any change of feeling to break the current of
her thoughts.
"Dan McGaw an' Rowan says so."
"What's McGaw got to do with it? He's out of the fight."
"Oh, ye don't know some men, Mr. Babcock. McGaw'll never stop
fightin' while I live. Maybe I oughtn't tell ye,--I've niver told
anybody,--but whin my Tom lay sick upstairs, McGaw come in one
night, an' his own wife half dead with a blow he had given her,
an' sat down in this very room,--it was our kitchen then,--an' he
says,' If your man don't git well, ye'll be broke.' An' I says to
him, 'Dan McGaw, if I live twelve months, Tom Grogan'll be a
richer man than he is now.' I was a-sittin' right here when I
said it, wid a rag carpet on this floor, an' hardly any furniture
in the room. He said more things, an' tried to make love to me,
and I let drive and threw him out of me kitchen. Then all me
trouble wid him began; he's done everything to beat me since, and
now maybe, after all, he'll down me.
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