“Oh, my, is a baby coming on a terrible night like this?”

“That’s right!” Sarah hoped all this shouting wouldn’t wake the entire neighborhood. “I’ve got to be on my way,” she added, seeing Ham Fisher had stopped to wait for her but with obvious impatience.

“Oh, dear, and here it is, the tenth day after the new moon. You know what that means, don’t you? Anyone born on the tenth day after the new moon is bound to be restless and a wanderer. Do you think you could hold off the birth just one more day? No sense in dooming the poor child to a life of-”

“I’ll do my best, Mrs. Elsworth,” Sarah promised, shaking her head because she knew Mrs. Elsworth couldn’t see her disgust. The old woman had a superstition for every occasion. Sarah had heard literally hundreds of them in the years she’d lived next door, but Mrs. Elsworth was still surprising her with new ones all the time. There seemed to be an endless supply.

“Mrs. Brandt, please.” Ham entreated desperately.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Mrs. Elsworth,” Sarah called, hurrying to catch up with her escort, who had already set off again.

“I hope you’re carrying a pinch of salt to protect you from disaster, going out on a night like this!” Mrs. Elsworth shouted after her.

“Yes, I am!” Sarah lied without a trace of guilt.

When Ham realized, half a block away, that she couldn’t keep up with his pace, he slowed and waited for her, although his entire body fairly quivered with his eagerness to run. He pulled off his battered cap and ran long, bony fingers through his sleep-tousled hair instead.

“Who’s that?” another familiar voice called from the shadows across the deserted street. Ham looked up in fright, but Sarah called, “It’s Mrs. Brandt, Officer Murphy!”