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“You! You!” he exclaimed at once, glaring at the imperturbable Almerting, when told that this was the young man who was found with his girl. Then, seized with a sudden horror, he added, turning to Theresa, “Vot haf you done? Oh, oh! You! You!” he repeated again to Almerting angrily, now that he felt that his daughter was safe.”Come not near my tochter any more! I vill preak your effery pone, du teufel, du!”

He made a move toward the incarcerated lover, but here the sergeant interfered.

“Stop that, now,” he said calmly.”Take your daughter out of here audi go home, or I’ll lock you both up. We don’t want any fighting in here. D’ye hear? Keep your daughter off the streets hereafter, then she won’t get into trouble. Don’t let her run around with such young toughs as this.” Almerting winced.”Then there won’t anything happen to her. We’ll do whatever punishing’s to be done.”

“Aw, what’s eatin’ him?”, commented Almerting dourly, now that he felt himself reasonably safe from a personal encounter.”What have I done? He locked her out, didn’t he? I was just keepin’ her company till morning.”

“Yes, we know all about that,” said the sergeant, “and about you, too. You shut up, or you’ll go downtown to Special Sessions. I want no guff out o’ you.” Still he ordered the butcher angrily to be gone.

Old Rogaum heard nothing He had his daughter. He was taking her home. She was not dead — not even morally injured in so far as he could learn. He was a compound of wondrous feelings. What to do was beyond him.

At the corner near the butcher shop they encountered the wakeful Maguire, still idling, as they passed. He was pleased to see that Rogaum had his Theresa once more. It raised him to a high, moralizing height.

“Don’t lock her out any more,” he called significantly.”That’s what brought the other girl to your door, you know!”

“Vot iss dot?” said Rogaum.

“I say the other girl was locked out. That’s why she committed suicide.”

“Ach, I know,” said the husky German under his breath, but he had no intention of locking her out. He did not know what he would do until they were in the presence of his crying wife, who fell upon Theresa, weeping. Then he decided to be reasonably lenient.

“She vass like you,” said the old mother to the wandering Theresa, ignorant of the seeming lesson brought to their very door.”She vass bog like you.”

“I vill not vip you now,” said the old butcher solemnly, too delighted to think of punishment after having feared every horror under the sun, “aber, go not oudt any more. Keep off de streads so late. I won’t haf it. Dot loafer, aber — let him yussed come here some more! I fix him!”

“No, no,” said the fat mother tearfully, smoothing her daughter’s hair.”She vouldn’t run avay no more yet, no, no. Old Mrs. Rogaum was all mother.

“Well, you wouldn’t let me in,” insisted The
resa, “and I didn’t have any place to go. What do you want me to do? I’m not going to stay in the house all the time.”

“I fix him!” roared Rogaum, unloading all his rage now on the recreant lover freely.”Yussed let him come some more! Der penitentiary he should haf!”

“Oh, he’s not so bad,” Theresa told her mother, almost a heroine now that she was home and safe.”He’s Mr. Almerting, the stationer’s boy. They live here in the next block.”

“Don’t you ever bother that girl again,” the sergeant was saying to young Almerting as he turned him loose an hour later.”If you do, we’ll get you, and you won’t get off under six months. Y’ hear me, do you?”