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the topping handle had been broken long ago. Into this she folded some of the newspaper from her work-table pile, and then she settled a faded cushion on top, poking it well down.
    â€œPeople!” she said fiercely, snapping back her glasses twice, with such force Holly thought it might break the red frames. “They can be meaner than all them imps an’ devils old Satan is supposed to have workin’ for ’im. Because this is a dump, an’ in the country—why, there’s some as brings out poor animals as never done them any harm, an’ jus’ leaves them! We”—she glanced then at the children gathered around the cat basket to watch Grandpa settle the stranger in—“no, I ain’t gonna say ’fore children some of the things we’ve seen. Now, Luther, you just set him down here an’ I’ll put out some warm milk—then we’ll leave him be. If he don’t come ’round by himself I’ll fix up a doll bottle an’ give it to him thataway.”
    â€œCan I pet him?” Judy had always wanted a kitten but Mom had said that in the city, with all the traffic on the streets, it was better not to get one.
    â€œNot yet awhile.” Grandpa had arranged his find on thecushion. “He’s strange an’ likely he thinks all the world’s agin him. Rightly, after how he’s been treated. You got to make friends slow-like. We’ll leave him here where Mercy can keep an eye on him if he needs it. Maybe later he’ll be willin’ to trust us.”
    The rain had stopped by the time they left for town, but it was still very gray and cloudy. Holly and Crock shared a pile of bags for a seat in the back of the truck. Mom and Judy went up front again, with Mom’s two suitcases back where they could watch them. Now that Holly had a better sight of the lane leading to the highway, she could catch glimpses, through thin places in the bush walls along it, of clutter which indeed made up a dump and a junkyard. The more she saw the less she liked.
    They bumped up from the dirt and gravel lane onto the pavement of the road into town and went along seeing more and more houses. Some people had their lights on—the day was so dark. And the lights of Mrs. Pigot’s store were bright as they pulled up before it.
    Mom had her ticket, and the bus was supposed to be here soon. Holly hated to wait like this. You couldn’t keep on saying “good-bye” and “remember this and that.” You ran out of talk and then you began to hurt in your throat and you wanted to yell as loud as you could that Mom must stay, that you wanted to go back home and have everything as it was—She couldn’t even look at Mom now.
    It was good that they did not have to wait too long. The bus came to a stop. Grandpa and Crock took Mother’s suitcases over for her. She kissed Holly and Judy and wentacross the road, to climb up the steps quickly, as if she could not say anything now either. Then the bus snorted and it was gone. Holly raised her hand and waved, though she was sure Mom could not see her, then let her arm fall.
    â€œFreshenin’ up a mite.” Grandpa led them back to the dingy truck. “You young’uns get yourselves in the front now. Don’t want none of you to turn to ice ’fore we get there an’ back again.”
    Crock sat crammed in next to Grandpa, Judy perched on Holly’s lap. Most of the outer world was hidden by her body, and Holly was glad. She had not cried, but it was a battle not to.
    The truck swayed as it turned from one street to the next, then it pulled into a driveway and around to the back of a big dark house. They scrambled out as Grandpa shut off the motor. Here was a stable barn, not as big as the one at Dimsdale. The doors of it were all shut and the windows boarded over. But at the side of the large door were some barrels and boxes, and with them a couple of old and very large