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60 seemed to whistle his words. "Think they'll orl come, Loo?" Loo would not commit himself about "orl", not being quite sure of his master's mind.

The old man's mouth twitched, a violent effort jerked him. "Might be a boy arter orl; ain't cocky sure!" His head wagged irresponsibly, and his hat fell off as he rolled into the bunk. He made no effort to replace it, and, for once unheeded, the fire flickered on his polished head. Never before had the dog seen its baldness. The change from night-cap to hat had always been effected out of his sight.

"War, ain't cocky sure it'll be a gal?"

The dog discreetly or modestly dropped his eyes, but his master had not done with concessions.

"Warder!" Warder looked at him. "Tell yer wot, you can go every Sunday evenin' an' see if 'tis a boy!"

He turned over on his side, with his face to the wall. Into the gnarled uncontrolled hand swaying over the bunk the dog laid his paw.

When the old man got up, he didn't put on his hat nor even pick it up. Altogether there was an unusualness about him tonight that