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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18093-8.txt b/18093-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..881954a --- /dev/null +++ b/18093-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13179 @@ +Project Gutenberg's From the Valley of the Missing, by Grace Miller White + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From the Valley of the Missing + +Author: Grace Miller White + +Release Date: April 1, 2006 [EBook #18093] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL. + + _Frontispiece_ (_Page_ 276.)] + + +FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING +BY +GRACE MILLER WHITE + +AUTHOR OF +TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY + +ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY +PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTED BY THE FOX FILM +CORPORATION + +GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS: NEW YORK + + * * * * * + +Copyright, 1911, by +W. J. WATT & COMPANY + +Published, August, 1911 + + * * * * * + + +"FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING" + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + + +One afternoon in late October four lean mules, with stringy muscles +dragging over their bones, stretched long legs at the whirring of their +master's whip. The canalman was a short, ill-favored brute, with coarse +red hair and freckled skin. His nose, thickened by drink, threatened the +short upper lip with obliteration. Straight from ear to ear, deep under +his chin, was a zigzag scar made by a razor in his boyhood days, and +under emotion the injured throat became convulsed at times, causing his +words to be unintelligible. The red flannel shirt, patched with colors +of lighter shades, lay open to the shoulders, showing the dark, rough +skin. + +"Git--git up!" he stuttered; and for some minutes the boat moved +silently, save for the swish of the water and the patter of the mules' +feet on the narrow path by the river. + +From the small living-room at one end of the boat came the crooning of a +woman's voice, a girlish voice, which rose and fell without tune or +rhythm. Suddenly the mules came to a standstill with a "Whoa thar!" + +"Pole me out a drink, Scraggy," bawled the man, "and put a big snack of +whisky in it--see?" + +The boulder-shaped head shot forward in command as he spoke. And he +held the reins in his left hand, turning squarely toward the scow. +Pushing out a dark, rusty, steel hook over which swung a ragged +coat-sleeve, he displayed the stump of a short arm. + +As the woman appeared at the bow of the boat with a long stick on the +end of which hung a bucket, Lem Crabbe wound the reins about the steel +hook and took the proffered pail in the fingers of his left hand. + +"Ye drink too much whisky, Lem," called the woman. "Ye've had as many as +twenty swigs today. Ye'll get no more till we reaches the dock--see?" + +To this Lem did not reply. His shrewd eyes traveled up and down the +girlish figure in evil meaning. His thick lips opened, and the swarthy +cheeks went awry in a grimace. Before the hideous spasm of his silent +merriment the woman who loved him paled, and turned away with a shudder. +She slouched down the short flight of steps, and the man, with a grin, +malicious and cunning, lifted the tin pail to his lips. + +"It's time for her to go," he muttered as he wiped his mouth, "it's time +for her to go! Git back here, Scraggy, and take this 'ere drink cup!" + +This time the woman appeared with a fat baby in her arms. Mechanically +she unloosened the pail from the bent nail on the end of the pole and +put it down, watching the man as he unwound the reins from the hook. +Again the long-eared animals stretched their muscles at his hoarse +command. He paid no more attention to the woman, who, seated on a pile +of planks, was eying the square end of the boat. She drew a plaid shawl +close up under the baby's chin and threaded her listless fingers through +his dark curls. Scraggy's thin hair was drawn back from her wan face, +and her narrow shoulders were bowed with burdens too heavy for her +years; but she hugged the little creature sleeping on her breast, and +still kept her eyes upon the scene. Beyond she could see the smoke +rising from the buildings in the city of Albany, where they were to draw +the boat up for the night. On each side of the river bank, behind clumps +of trees, stood the mansions of those men for whom, according to Scraggy +Peterson's belief, the world had been made. Finally her gaze dropped to +the scow, where little rivers of water made crooked paths across the +deck. Piles of planks reared high at her back, and edged the scow with +the squareness of a room. Scraggy knew that hauling lumber was but the +cover for a darker trade. Yet as she glanced at the stolid, indifferent +man trudging behind the mules a lovelight sprang into her eyes. + +Later, by an hour, the mules came to a halt at Lem's order. + +"Throw down that gangplank, Scraggy," stammered Crabbe, "and put the +brat below! I want to get these here mules in. The storm'll be here in +any minute." + +Obediently the woman hastened to comply, and soon the tired mules +munched their suppers, their long faces filling the window-gaps of the +stable. + +Lem Crabbe followed the woman down the scow-steps amid gusty howls of +the wind, and the night fell over the city and the black, winding river. +The man ate his supper in silence, furtively casting his eyes now and +then upon the slender figure of the woman. He chewed fast, uttering no +word, and the creaking of the heavy jaws and the smacking of the coarse +lips were the only sounds to be heard after the woman had taken her +place at the table. Scraggy dared not yet begin to eat; for something +new in her master's manner filled her with sudden fear. By sitting very +quietly, she hoped to keep his attention upon his plate, and after he +had eaten he would go to bed. She was aroused from this thought by the +feeble whimper of her child in the tiny room of the scow's bow. +Although the woman heard, she made no move to answer the weak summons. + +She rose languidly as the child began to cry more loudly; but a command +from Lem stopped her. + +"Set down!" he said. + +"The brat's a wailin'," replied Scraggy hoarsely. + +"Set down, and let him wail!" shouted Lem. + +Scraggy sank unnerved into the chair, gazing at him with terrified eyes. +"Why, Lem, he's too little to cry overmuch." + +"Keep a settin', I say! Let him yap!" + +For the second time that day Scraggy's face shaded to the color of +ashes, and her gaze dropped before the fierce eyes directed upon her. + +"Ye said more'n once, Scraggy," began Lem, "that I wasn't to drink no +more whisky. Whose money pays for what I drink? That's what I want ye to +tell me!" + +"Yer money, Lem dear." + +"And ye say as how I couldn't drink what I pay for?" + +"Yep, I has said it," was the timid answer. "Ye drink too much--that's +what ye do! Ye ain't no mind left, ye ain't! And it makes ye ugly, so it +does!" + +"Be it any of yer business?" demanded Lem insultingly, as he filled his +mouth with a piece of brown bread. After washing it down with a drink of +whisky, he finished, "Ye ain't no relation to me, be ye?" + +The thin face hung over the tin plate. + +"Ye ain't married to me, be ye?" + +And, while a giant pain gnawed at her heart, she shook her head. + +"Then what right has ye got to tell me what to do? Shut up or get +out--ye see?" + +He closed his jaw with a vicious snap, resting his half-dazed head on +his mutilated arm. Louder came the baby's cries from the back room. +Thinking Lem had ended his tirade, Scraggy made a motion to rise. + +"Set still!" growled Crabbe. + +"Can't I get the brat, Lemmy?" she pleaded. "He's likely to fall offen +the bed." + +"Let him fall. What do I care? I want to tell ye somethin'. I didn't +bring ye here to this boat to boss me, ye see? Ye keep yer mouth shet +'bout things what ye don't like. Ye're in my way, anyhow." + +"Ye mean, Lemmy, as how I has to leave ye?" + +Crabbe regarded the appealing face soddenly before answering. "Yep, +that's what I mean. I'm tired of a woman allers a snoopin' around, and a +hundred times more tired of the brat." + +"But he's yer own," cried the woman, "and ye did say as how ye'd marry +me for his sake! Didn't ye say it, Lem? He ain't nothin' but a baby, an' +he don't cry much. Will ye let me an' him stay, Deary?" + +"Ye can stay tonight; but tomorry ye go, and I don't give a hell where, +so long as ye leave this here scow, an' I'm a tellin' ye this--" He +halted with an exasperated gesture. "Go an' get that kid an' shet his +everlastin' clack!" + +Scraggy bounded into the inner room, and, once out of sight of the +watchful eyes of Lem, snatched up the infant and pressed her lips +passionately to the rosy skin. + +"Yer mammy'll allers love ye, little 'un, allers, allers, no matter what +yer pappy does!" + +She whispered this under her breath; then, dragging the red shawl about +her shoulders, appeared in the living-room with the child hidden from +view. + +"An' I'll tell ye somethin' else, too," burst in Lem, pulling out a +corncob pipe: "that it ain't none of yer business if I steal or if I +don't. I was born a thief, as I told ye many a time, and last night ye +made Lon Cronk and Eli mad as hell by chippin' in." + +"They be bad men," broke in the woman, "and ye know--" + +"I know ye're a damn blat-heels, and I know more'n that: that yer own +pappy ain't no angel, and ye needn't be a sayin' my friends ain't no +right here--ye see? They be--" + +"They be thieves and liars, too," interrupted Scraggy, allowing the +sleeping babe to sink to her knees, "and the prison's allers a yawnin' +for 'em!" + +"Wall, I ain't a runnin' this boat for fun," drawled Lem, "nor for to +draw lumber for any ole guy in Albany. Ye know that I draw it jest to +hide my trade, and if, after ye leave here, ye open yer head to tell +what ye've seen, ye'll get this--ye see?" He held up the hooked arm +menacingly. "Ye've seen me rip up many a man with it, ain't ye, +Scraggy?" + +"Yep." + +"And I ain't got nothin' ag'in' rippin' up a woman, nuther. So, when ye +go back to yer pa in Ithacy, keep yer mouth shet.... Will ye let up that +there cryin'?" + +Suppressing her tears, Scraggy shoved back a little from the table. "I +love ye, Lem," she choked, "and, if ye let me stay, I'll do whatever ye +say. I won't talk nothin' 'bout drink nor stealin'. If I go ye'll get +another woman! I know ye can't live on this here scow without no woman." + +"And that ain't none of yer business, nuther--ye hear?" Lem grunted, +settling deep into his chair, with an oath. "I'll get all the women in +Albany, if I want 'em! I don't never want none of yer lovin' any more!" + +During this bitter insult a storm-cloud broke overhead, sending sheets +of water into the river. The wind howled above Crabbe's words, and he +brought out the last of his sentence in a higher key. Suddenly the +shrill whistle of a yacht brought the drunken man to his feet. + +"It's some 'un alone in trouble," he muttered. But his tones were not so +low as to escape the woman. + +"Ye won't do no robbin' tonight, Deary--not tonight, will ye, Lem? +'Cause it's the baby's birthday." + +Crabbe flung his squat body about toward the girl. "Shet up about that +brat!" he growled. "I don't care 'bout no birthdays. I'll steal, if the +man has anything and he's alone. I'll kill him like this, if he don't +give up. Do ye want to see how I'd kill him?" + +His eyes blazing with fire, he lifted the steel hook, brandished it in +the air, and brought it down close to the thin, drawn face. + +Scraggy, uttering a cry, sprang to her feet. "Lemmy, Lemmy, I love ye, +and the brat loves ye, too! He'll grin at ye any ole day when ye cluck +at him. And I teached him to say 'Daddy,' to surprise ye on his +birthday. Will ye list to him--will ye?" + +In her eagerness to take his attention from the shrieking yacht, now +close to the scow, Scraggy advanced toward the swaying man. She tried to +lift brave eyes to his face; but they were filled with tears as they met +his drunken, shifting look. + +"Lem, Lemmy dear," she pleaded, "we love ye, both the brat an' me! He +can say 'Daddy'--" + +"Git out of my way, git out! Some'n' be a callin'. Git out, I say!" + +"Not yet, not yet--don't go yet, Deary.... Deary! Wait till the kid says +'Daddy.'" She held out the rosy babe, pushing him almost under Lem's +chin. "Look at him, Lemmy! Ain't--he--sweet? He's yer own pretty +boy-brat, and--" + +Her loving plea was cut short; for the man, with a vicious growl, raised +his stumped arm, and the sharp part of the hook scraped the skin from +her hollow cheek. It paused an instant on the level of her chin, then +descended into the upturned chest of the child. With a scream, Scraggy +dragged the boy back, and a wail rose from the tiny lips. Crabbe turned, +cursing audibly, and stumbled up the steps to the stern of the boat. The +woman heard him fall in his drunken stupor, and listened again and again +for him to rise. Her face was white and rigid as she stopped the flow of +blood that drenched the infant's coarse frock. Then, realizing the +danger both she and the child were in, since in all likelihood Lem would +sleep but a few minutes, she slid open the window and looked out upon +the dark river in search of help. Splashes of rain pelted her face, +while a gust of wind caused the scow to creak dismally. Scraggy could +see no human being, only the lights of Albany blinking dimly through the +raging storm. Another shrieking whistle warned her that the yacht was +still near. Sailors' voices shouted orders, followed by the chug, chug, +chug of an engine reversed. + +But, in spite of the efforts of the engineer, the wind swung the small +craft sidewise against the scow, and, stupefied, Scraggy found herself +gazing into the face of another woman who was peering from the launch's +window. It was a small, beautiful face shrouded with golden hair, the +large blue eyes widened with terror. For a brief instant the two women +eyed each other. Just then the drunken man above rose and called +Scraggy's name with an oath. She heard him stumbling about, trying to +find the stairs, muttering invectives against herself and her child. + +Scraggy looked down upon the little boy's face, twisted with pain. She +placed her fingers under his chin, closed the tiny jaws, and wrapped the +shawl about the dark head. Without a moment's indecision, she thrust him +through the window-space and said: + +"Be ye a good woman, lady, a good woman?" + +The owner of the golden head drew back as if afraid. + +"Ye wouldn't hurt a little 'un--a sick brat? He--he's been hooked. And +it's his birthday. Take him, 'cause he'll die if ye don't!" + +Moved to a sense of pity, the light-haired woman extended two slender +white hands to receive the human bundle, struggling in pain under the +muffling shawl. + +"He's a dyin'!" gasped Scraggy. "His pappy's a hatin' him! Give him warm +milk--" + +Again the yacht's whistle shrieked hoarsely, drowning her last words. As +the stern of the little boat swung round, Scraggy read, stamped in black +letters upon it: + + HAROLD BRIMBECOMB, + TARRYTOWN-ON-THE-HUDSON, + NEW YORK. + +The yacht shot away up the river, and was lost to the dull eyes that +continued peering for a last glimpse of the phantom-like boat that had +snatched her dying treasure from her. Then, at last, the stricken woman +turned, alone, to meet Lem Crabbe. + +"Where's that brat?" he demanded in a thick voice. + +"I throwed him in the river," declared the mother. "He were dead. Yer +hook killed him, Lem. He's gone!" + +"I'll kill his mammy, too!" muttered Crabbe. "Git ye here--here--down +here--on the floor!" + +His throat worked painfully as he threw the threatening words at her; +they mingled harshly with the snarling of the wind and the sonorous +rumble of the river. So great was Scraggy's fright that she sped round +the wooden table to escape the frenzied man. Taking the steps in two +bounds, she sprang to the deck like a cat, thence to the bank, and sped +away into the rain, with Lem's cries and curses ringing in her ears. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + + +Five years later the _Monarch_ was drawn up to the east bank of the Erie +Canal at Syracuse. It was past midnight, and with the exception of those +on Lem Crabbe's scow the occupants of all the long line of boats were +sleeping. Three men sat silently working in the living-room of the boat. +Lem Crabbe, Silent Lon Cronk, and his brother Eli, Cayuga Lake +squatters, were the workers. At one end of the room hung a broken iron +kettle. Into this Eli Cronk was dropping bits of gold which he cut from +baubles taken from a basket. Crabbe, his short legs drawn up under his +body, held a pair of pliers in his left hand, while caught firmly in the +hook was a child's tiny pin. From this he tore the small jewels, threw +them into a tin cup, and passed the setting on to Eli. The other man, +taciturn and fierce, was flattening out by means of strong pressers +several gold rings and bracelets. The three had worked for many hours +with scarcely a word spoken, with scarcely a recognition of one another. + +Of a sudden Eli Cronk raised his head and said, "Lem, Scraggy was to +Mammy's t'other day." + +"I didn't know ye'd been to Ithacy?" Lem made the statement a question. + +"Yep, I went to see Mammy, and she says as how Scraggy's pappy were +dead, and as how the gal's teched in here." His words were low, and he +raised his forefinger to his head significantly. + +"She ain't allers a stayin' in the squatter country nuther," he pursued. +"She takes that damn ugly cat of her'n and scoots away for a time. And +none of 'em up there don't know where she goes. Hones' Injun, don't she +never come about this here scow, Lem?" + +"Hones' Injun," replied Lem laconically, without looking up from his +work. + +Presently Eli continued: + +"Mammy says as how the winter's comin', and some 'un ought to look out +for Scraggy. She goes 'bout the lake doin' nothin' but hollerin' like a +hoot-owl, and she don't have enough to eat. But she's been gone now +goin' on two weeks, disappearin' like she's been doin' for a few years +back. Scraggy allers says she has bats in her head." + +"So she has bats," muttered Lem, "and she allers had 'em, and that's why +I made her beat it. I didn't want no woman 'bout me for good and all." + +Lem Crabbe lifted his head and glanced toward the small window +overlooking the dark canal. He had always feared the crazy +squatter-woman whom he had wrecked by his brutality. + +"I says that I don't want no woman round me for all time," he repeated. + +The third man raised his right shoulder at that; but sank into a heap +again, working more assiduously. The slight trembling of his body was +the only evidence he gave that he had heard Crabbe's words. Snip, snip, +snip! went the bits of gold into the kettle, until Eli spoke again. + +"Ye can't tell me that ye ain't goin' never to get married, Lem?" + +Crabbe lifted his hooked arm viciously. "I ain't said nothin' like that. +I says as how Scraggy can keep away from my scow." + +"Don't she never come here no more?" asked Eli in disbelief. + +"Nope, not after them three beatin's I give her. She kept a comin', and +I had to wallop her. I'd do it again if she snoops 'bout here." + +"Ye beat her up well, didn't ye, Lem? And she telled Mammy that yer brat +were drowned one night in the river. Were it, Lem?" + +There was an expectant pause between his first and last questions, and +Lem waited almost as long before he grunted: + +"Yep." + +"Did ye throw it in when ye was drunk?" + +"Nope, he jest fell in--that's all." + +"I guess that last beatin' ye give Scraggy made her batty. Mam says that +she ain't no more sense than her cat." + +"Let her keep to hum then, and she won't get beat. I don't do no runnin' +after her!" + +Again there came a space of time during which Eli and Lem worked in +silence. From far away in the city there came the sound of the fire +whistle, followed by the ringing of bells. But not one of the men ceased +his clipping to satisfy any curiosity he might have had. + +Suddenly Lem Crabbe spoke louder than he had before that evening. + +"Women ain't no good, nohow! They don't love no men, and men don't love +them. What's the good of havin' 'em round to feed and to bother a feller +'bout drinkin' an' things? Less a man sees of 'em the better!" + +The third man, Silent Lon Cronk, sunk lower at his work, even more +fiercely flattening the gemless rings under the pressers. After a few +moments he laid down his tools and began to stretch his long legs, +scraping into a cup the bits of gold from his lap. + +"I've been goin' to ask ye fellers somethin' for a long time. Might as +well now as any other night, eh?" + +"Yep," replied Eli eagerly. + +"'Tain't nothin' that will take any money out yer pockets; 'twill put it +in, more likely. We've been stealin' together for how long, Lem? How +long we been pals?" + +"Nigh onto ten years, I'm thinkin'. It were that year that Tilly +Jacobson got burned, weren't it?" + +"Yep, for ten years," replied Lon, ignoring Lem's last query, "and we've +allers been hones' with each other. I've been hones' with both of ye, +and ye've been hones' with me. Eh?" + +"Yep." + +"Lem, do ye want all the swag in this here room, only a sharin' up with +Eli, without havin' to share and share alike with me?" + +A small jewel bounded from the steel hook, and the pliers fell from +Lem's fingers. Eli dropped back upon his bare feet. + +"What's in the wind?" demanded Lem. + +"Only want ye to help me with a job some night that won't be nothin' to +nuther of ye. But it's all to me. Will ye?" + +Lem wriggled nearer on the floor. "Ye mean stealin', Lon?" he demanded. + +"Yep." + +"And we ain't to share up with it?" + +"Nope; but ye're to have all that's in this here room. If I tell ye, +will ye help?" + +Crabbe looked at Eli, and a furtive look was shot back. Each was afraid +of the other; but for the big, gloomy man before them they had vast +respect. + +"What be ye goin' to steal, Lon? Tell us before we say we'll help." + +"Kids," muttered Lon moodily. + +"Live kids?" asked Eli, in great surprise. + +"Yep, live ones. What do I want with dead ones? Will ye help?" + +"Can't see no good a swipin' kids. What do ye want with 'em?" + +"I'll tell ye if ye sit up and listen to me." + +Crabbe dropped his hooked arm and leaned against the wall. Eli lighted a +pipe. A mysterious change had passed over Silent Lon's face. The blue +eyes glowed out from under a massive brow, and a mouth cruel and +vindictive set firm-jawed over decayed teeth. + +"I'll tell ye this much for all time, Lem Crabbe: that ye lied when ye +said that no woman could love no man--ye lied, I say!" + +So fierce had he become that the man with the hook drew back into the +corner and sat staring sullenly. Eli puffed more vigorously on his pipe. + +Lon went on: + +"I had a woman oncet," said he, "and she were every bit mine. And she +were little--like this." + +The big fellow measured off a space with his hand and, straightening +again, stood against the wall of the scow, his head reaching almost to +the ceiling. + +"She were mine, I say, and any man what says she weren't--" + +"Where be she?" interrupted Lem curiously. + +"Dead," replied Lon, "as dead as if she'd never been alive, as dead as +if she'd never laid ag'in' my heart when I wanted her! God! how I wanted +her!" + +"But were she a woman?" asked Lem meditatively. + +"Yep, she were a woman, and I married her square, I did!" + +Lon stirred his dank black hair ferociously, standing it on end with +horny fingers. "I loved her, Lem Crabbe," he continued hoarsely. "I +loved her, that I know! And ye can let that devilish grin ride on yer +lips when I say it and I don't give a hell; but--but if ye say that she +didn't love me, if ye so much as smile when I say that she died a +callin' me, that she went away lovin' me every minute, I--I'll rip +offen yer hooked arm and tear out yer in'ards with it!" + +He was leaning against the wall no longer. As he spoke, he came closer +to the crouching canalman, his eyes straining from their sockets in +livid hate. But he halted, and presently began to speak in a voice more +subdued. + +"But she's dead, and I'm goin' to get even. He killed her, he did, +'cause he wouldn't let me see her, and he's got to go the same way I +went! He's got to tear his hair and call God to curse some 'un he won't +know who! He's got to want his kids like as how I've been wantin' +mine--" + +"Ye ain't had no kids, Lon," his brother broke in scoffingly. + +"I would a had if he'd a kept his hands to hum and let me see her. But +she were so little an' young-like an' afeard, and I telled her that +night--I telled her when she whispered that she were a goin' to have a +baby, and said as how she couldn't stand bein' hurt--I says, 'Midge +darlin', do it hurt the grass to grow jest 'cause the winds bend it +double? Do it hurt the little birds to bust out of their shells in the +springtime?' And she knowed what I meant, that not even what she were a +thinkin' of could hurt her if I was there close by." + +His deep voice sank almost to a whisper, a hard, heavy sob closing his +throat. He shook himself fiercely and continued: + +"I took her up close--God! how close I tooked her up! And I telled her +that there wasn't no pain big 'nough to hurt her when I were there--that +even God's finger couldn't tech her afore it went through me. And she +fell to sleep like a bird, a trustin' me, 'cause I said as how there +wasn't goin' to be no hurt. And all the time I knowed I were a lyin'--I +knowed that she'd suffer--" + +His voice trailed into silence, the muscles of his dark face twitching +under the gnawing heart-pain; but after a time he conquered his feelings +and went on: + +"Then they comed and took me away for stealin' jest that there week and +sent me up to Auburn prison, and they wouldn't let me stay with her. And +I telled the state's lawyer, Floyd Vandecar, this; I says, 'Vandecar, ye +be a good man, I be a thief, and ye caught me square, ye did. My little +Midge be sick like women is sick sometimes, and she wants me, like every +woman wants her man jest then, an' if ye'll let me see her, to stay a +bit, I'll go up for twice my time.' But he jest laughed till--" + +Lon stopped speaking, and neither listener moved. For a moment he +lowered his head to the small boat window and gazed out into the vapors +hanging low over the opposite bank. + +Turning again, he backed up to the scow's side and proceeded in a lower +voice: + +"When they telled me she were dead, they had to set me in the jacket, +buckled so tight ye could hear my bones crack. The warden ain't got no +blame comin' from me, 'cause I smashed his face afore he'd done tellin' +me. And I felled the keeper like that!" He raised a knotty fist and +thrust it forth. "But it were all 'cause I wanted to be with her so, +'cause I couldn't stand the knowin' that she'd gone a callin' and a +callin' me!" + +He was quiet so long that Eli Cronk drew his sleeve across his face to +break the oppressive stillness. Here, in the dead of night, his somber +brother had been transformed into another creature,--a passionate +creature, responding to the call of a dead woman, a man whose hatred +would carry him to fearful lengths. + +The hoarse voice broke forth again: + +"Midge darlin', dead baby, and all that ye had belongin' to me, I do it +for you! I'll steal his'n, and they'll suffer and suffer--" + +He tossed up his great head with a jerk, crushing the sentiment from his +voice. + +"But that don't make no matter now," he muttered. "I'm goin' to take his +kids! He's got two, an' he's prouder'n a turkey cock of 'em. I'll take +'em and I'll make of 'em what I be--I'll make 'em so damn bad that he +won't want 'em no more after I get done with 'em! I'll see what his +woman does when she finds 'em gone! Will ye help, Lem--Eli?" + +"Yep, by God, you bet!" burst from both men at once. + +"I'll take 'em to the squatter country, up to Mammy's," Lon proceeded, +"and, Eli, if ye'll take one of 'em on the train up to McKinneys Point, +I'll take t'other one up the west side of the lake. I'll pay all the +way, Eli; it won't be nothin' out o' yer pocket. We'll tell Mammy the +kids be mine--see? And ye can have all there be in this here room. Be it +a bargain?" + +"Yep," assured Eli, and Lena's consent followed only an instant later. +After that there were no sounds save the snip, snip, snip of the pliers +and the occasional low grating from a jeweled trinket as the steel hook +gouged into the metal. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + + +As Eli Cronk said, Scraggy Peterson left her lonely squatter home two +weeks before with no companion but her vicious black cat. The woman had +intervals of sanity, and during those periods her thoughts turned to a +dark-haired boy, growing up in a luxurious home. In these rare days she +donned her rude clothing, and with the cat perched close to her thin +face walked across the state to Tarrytown. Several times during the five +years after leaving Lem's scow she walked to Tarrytown, returning only +when she had seen the little boy, to take up her squatter life in her +father's hut. So secretive was she that no one had been taken into her +confidence; neither had she interfered with her child in any way. Never +once, hitherto, had her senses left her on those long country marches +toward the east; but often when she turned backward she would utter +forlorn cries, characteristic of her malady. + + * * * * * + +At eight o'clock, four hours before Lon Cronk opened his heart to his +companions, Scraggy, footsore and weary, entered Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and seated herself on the damp earth to gather strength. By begging and +stealing she had managed to reach her destination; but now for the first +time on this journey the bats were in her head, sounding the walls of +her poor brain with the ceaseless clatter of their wings. Still the +mother heart called for its own, through the madness--called for one +sight of Lem's child and hers. At length after a long rest she turned +into a broad path which she knew well, and did not halt until she was +staring eager-eyed into the window of Harold Brimbecomb's house which +stood close to the cemetery. + +[Illustration: FOR MIDGE'S SAKE.] + +To the left of the Brimbecomb's was the mansion, belonging to the +orphans of Horace Shellington. The young Horace and his sister Ann were +the favorite companions of Everett Brimbecomb, now six years old. He was +a strong, proud, handsome lad. Many conjectures had been made concerning +him by the Tarrytown people, because one day five years before the +delicate, light-haired wife of Mr. Brimbecomb had appeared with a +dark-haired baby boy, announcing that from that day on he would take the +place of her own child who had died a few months before. No person had +told Everett that the millionaire was not his father, nor was he made to +understand that the mother and the home were not his by right of birth. +His bright mind and handsome appearance were the pride of his adopted +mother's life, and his rich father smiled only the more leniently when +the lad showed a rebellious spirit. In the child's dark, limpid eyes +slumbered primeval passions, needing but the dawn of manhood to break +forth, perhaps to destroy the soul beneath their reckless domination. + +Everett was entertaining Ann and Horace Shellington at dinner, and after +the repast the youngsters betook themselves to the large square room +given to the young host's own use. Here were multitudinous playthings +and mechanical toys of all descriptions. For many minutes the children +had been too interested to note that the shadows were grown long and +that a somber gloom had settled down over the cemetery that lay just +beyond the windows. + +Ann Shellington, a delicate little creature of eight, looked up +nervously. "Everett, draw down the curtain," she said. "It looks so +ghostly out there!" + +Ann made a motion toward the window; but the boy did not obey her. + +"Isn't that just like a girl, Horace?" he asked. "I'm not afraid of +ghosts. Dead people can't walk, can they, Horace?" + +The other boy answered "No" thoughtfully, as he started a miniature +train across the length of the room. + +"Then who is it that walks in the night out there?" insisted the girl. +"Lots of town people have seen it. It's a woman with shaggy hair, and +sometimes her eyes turn green." + +"Pouf!" scoffed Everett. "My father says there aren't any such things as +ghosts. I wouldn't be a fraidy cat, Ann." + +"I'm not a fraidy cat," pouted the girl. "I always go upstairs alone, +don't I, Horace?" + +Another answer in the affirmative, and Horace proceeded to roll the +train back over the carpet. + +"If you had any mother," said Everett, "she'd tell you there weren't any +ghosts. My mother tells me that." + +"I haven't any mother," sighed the little girl, listlessly folding her +hands in her lap. + +"Nor any father, either," supplemented Horace, with seemingly no thought +of the magnitude of his statement. "I don't believe in ghosts, anyhow!" + +He glanced up as he spoke, and the train fell with a bang to the floor. +Everett Brimbecomb dropped the toy he held in his hand, and Ann bounded +from her chair. A white face with wide eyes, staring through scraggly +gray hair, appeared at the window. For only an instant it pressed +against the pane, then vanished as if it had never been. + +"It was a woman," gasped Horace, "or was it a--" + +"It wasn't a ghost," interrupted Everett stoutly. "I dare follow it out +there. Look at me!" + +He straightened his shoulders, threw up his dark head, and opened the +door leading to the narrow walk at the side of the house. In another +moment the watching boy and girl at the window saw him dart into the +hedge and a minute later emerge through it, picking his way among the +ancient graves. Suddenly from behind a tall monument stole a figure, and +as it approached the solemn eyes of the apparition smiled in dull wonder +on Everett Brimbecomb. + +Scraggy held out her hands. "Don't run away, little 'un," she whispered. +"There be bats flyin' about in my head; but my cat won't hurt ye." + +She passed one arm about the snarling creature perched on her shoulder; +but the cat with a hiss only raised himself higher. + +"Don't spit at the pretty boy, Kitty--pretty pussy, black pussy!" +wheedled the woman. "He won't hurt ye, childy. Come nearer, will ye? +This be a good cat." + +"Are you a ghost?" demanded Everett, edging into the light. + +"Nope, I ain't no ghost. I love ye, pretty boy. Ye won't tell no one +that I speak to ye, will ye? I ain't doin' no hurt." + +"What do you carry that cat for, and what's your name?" demanded Everett +insolently; for the proud young eyes had noticed the disheveled figure. +"If any one of our men see you about here, they'll shoot you. I'd shoot +you and your cat, too, if I had my father's gun!" + +Scraggy smiled wanly. "Screech Owl's my name," said she. "They call me +that 'cause I'm batty. But ye wouldn't hurt me, little 'un, 'cause I +love ye. How old be ye?" + +"Six years old; but it isn't any of your business. Crazy people ought to +be locked up. You'd better go away from here. My father owns that house, +and--don't you follow me through the hedge. Get back, I say! If I call +Malcolm--" + +Everett drew back through the box-hedge, and the boy and the girl at the +window saw the woman squeeze in after him. In another moment the young +heir to the Brimbecomb fortune bounded through the doorway. His face was +white; his eyes were filled with fear. + +"Did you see that old woman?" he gasped. "She tried to kiss me, and I +punched her in the face, and her cat did this to my arm." + +He pulled up his sleeve, and displayed a long scratch from wrist to +elbow. + +"Are you sure it wasn't a ghost, Everett?" asked Ann, shivering. + +"Of course, it wasn't," boasted Everett. "It was only a horrid woman +with a cat--that's all." + +As he closed the door vehemently, there drifted to the children from the +marble monument and waving trees the faint wail of a night-owl. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + + +On a fashionable street in Syracuse, Floyd Vandecar, district attorney +of the city, lived in a new house, built to please the delicate fancies +of his pretty wife. His career had been comet-like. Graduated from +Cornell University and starting in law with his father, he had succeeded +to a large practice when but a very young man. Then came the call for +his force and strength to be used for the state, and, with a gratified +smile, he accepted the votes of his constituents to act as district +attorney. Then, as Lon Cronk had told, it came within the duty of the +young lawyer to convict the thief of grand larceny committed three years +before. After that Floyd married the lovely Fledra Martindale, and a +year later his twin children were born--a sturdy boy and a tiny girl. +The children were nearly a year old when Fledra Vandecar whispered +another secret to her husband, and Vandecar, lover-like, had gathered +his darling into his arms, as if to hold her against any harm that might +come to her. This happened on the morning following the night when +Silent Lon Cronk told the dark tale of suffering to his pals. + +Just how Lon Cronk came to know the inner workings of the Vandecar +household he never confided; but, biding his time, waited for the hour +to come when the blow would be harder to bear. At last it fell, fell not +only upon the brilliant district attorney, but upon his lovely wife and +his hapless children. + + * * * * * + +One blustering night in March, Lem Crabbe's scow was tied at the locks +near Syracuse. The day for the fulfilment of Lon Cronk's revenge had +arrived. That afternoon Lon had come from Ithaca with his brother Eli to +meet Lem. + +"Be ye goin' to steal the kids tonight, Lon?" asked Lem. + +"Yep, tonight." + +"Why don't ye take just one? It'd make 'em sit up and note a bit to +crib, say, the boy." + +"We'll take 'em both," replied Lon decisively. + +"And if we get caught?" stammered Crabbe. + +"We don't get caught," assured Lon darkly, "'cause tonight's the time +for 'em all to be busy 'bout the Vandecar house. I know, I do--no matter +how!" + + * * * * * + +Wee Mildred Vandecar was ushered into the world during one of the worst +March storms ever known in the western part of New York. As she lay +snuggled in laces in her father's home, a tall man walked down a lane, +four miles from Ithaca, with her sleeping sister in his arms. The dark +baby head was covered by a ragged shawl; two tender, naked feet +protruded from under a coarse skirt. Lon Cronk struggled on against the +wind to a hut in the rocks, opened the door, and stepped inside. + +A woman, not unlike him, in spite of added years, rose as he entered. + +"So ye comed, Lon," she said. + +"Course! Did Eli get here with the other brat?" + +"Yep, there 'tis. And he's been squalling for the whole night and day. +He wanted the other little 'un, I'm a thinkin'." + +"Yep," answered Lon somberly, "and he wants his mammy, too. But, as I +telled ye before, she's dead." + +"Be ye reely goin' to live to hum, Lon?" queried the old woman eagerly. + +"Yep. And ye'll get all ye want to eat if ye'll take care of the kids. +Be ye glad to have me stay to hum?" + +"Yep, I'm glad," replied the mother, with a pathetic droop to her +shriveled lips. + +Just then the child on the cot turned over and sat up. The small, +tear-stained face was creased with dirt and molasses. Bits of bread +stuck between fingers that gouged into a pair of gray eyes flecked with +brown. Noting strangers, he opened his lips and emitted a forlorn wail. +The other baby, in the man's arms, lifted a bonny dark head with a jerk. + +For several seconds the babies eyed each other. Two pairs of brown-shot +eyes, alike in color and size, brightened, and a wide smile spread the +four rosy lips. + +"Flea! Flea!" murmured the baby on the bed; and "Flukey!" gurgled the +infant in Lon's arms. + +"There!" cried the old woman. "That's what he's been a cryin' for. Set +him on the bed, Lon, for God's sake, so he'll keep his clack shet for a +minute!" + +The baby called "Flea" leaned over and rubbed the face of the baby +called "Flukey," who touched the dimpled little hand with his. Then they +both lay down on a rough, low cot in the squatter's home and forgot +their baby troubles in sleep. + + * * * * * + +The kidnapping of the twins was discovered just after Fledra Vandecar +had presented her husband with another daughter, a tiny human flower +which the strong man took in his hands with tender thanksgiving. The +three days that followed the disappearance of his children were eternal +for Floyd Vandecar. The entire police force of the country had been +called upon to help bring to him his lost treasures. So necessary was it +for him to find them that he neither slept nor worked. He had had to +tell the mother falsehood after falsehood to keep her content. The +children had suddenly become infected with a contagious disease, and the +doctor had said that the new baby must not be exposed in any +circumstances. After three long weeks of torture it devolved upon him to +tell his wife that her children were gone. + +"Sweetheart," he whispered, sitting beside her and taking her hands in +his, "do you love and trust me very much indeed?" + +The wondering blue eyes smiled upon him, and small fingers threaded his +black hair. + +"I not only love you, Dear, but trust you always. I don't want to seem +obstinate and impatient, Floyd, but if I could see my babies just from +the door I should be happy. And it won't hurt me. I haven't seen them in +three whole weeks." + +During the long, agonizing silence the young mother gathered something +of his distress. + +"Floyd, look at me!" + +Slowly he lifted his white face and looked straight at her. + +"Floyd, Floyd, you've tears in your eyes! I didn't mean to hurt you--" + +She stopped speaking, and the pain in his heart reached hers. + +"Floyd," she cried again, "is there anything the matter with--with--" + +"Hush, Fledra darling, little wife, will you be brave for my sake and +for the sake of--her?" + +His eyes were still full of tears as he touched the bundle on the bed. + +"But my babies!" moaned Mrs. Vandecar. "If there isn't anything the +matter with my babies--" + +"I want to speak to you about our children, Dear." + +"They are dead?" Mrs. Vandecar asked dully. "My babies are dead?" + +At first Vandecar could scarcely trust himself to speak; but, curbing +his emotion with an effort, he answered, "No, no; but gone for a little +while." + +His arms were tightly about her, and time and again he pressed his lips +to hers. + +"Gone where?" she demanded. + +"Fledra, you must not look that way! Listen to me, and I will tell you +about it. I promise, Fledra. Don't, don't! You must not shake so! +Please! Then you do not trust me to bring them back to you?" + +His last appeal brought the tense arms more limply about his neck. She +had believed him absolutely when he said they were not dead. + +"Am I to have them tonight?" + +"No, dear love." + +"Where are they gone?" + +"The cradles were empty after little Mildred--" + +"They have been gone for--for three weeks!" she wailed. "Floyd, who took +them? Were they kidnapped? Have you had any letters asking for money?" + +Vandecar shook his head. + +"And no one has come to the house? Tell me, Floyd! I can't bear it! +Someone has taken my babies!" + +She raised herself on her arm wildly, fever brightening the anguished +eyes. The husband with bowed head remained praying for them and +especially for her. Another cry from the wounded mother aroused him. + +"Floyd, they have been taken for something besides money. Tell me, +Dearest! Don't you know?" + +Faithfully he told her that he could think of no human being who would +deal him a blow like this; that he had thought his life over from +beginning to end, but no new truth came out of his mental search. + +"Then they want money! Oh, you will pay anything they demand! Floyd, +will they torture my baby boy and girl? Will they?" + +"Fledra, beloved heart," groaned Vandecar, "please don't struggle like +that! You'll be very ill. I promised you that you should have them back +some day soon, very soon. Fledra, sweet wife, you still have the baby +and me--and Katherine." + +"I want my little children! I want my boy and girl!" gasped Mrs. +Vandecar. "I will have them, I will! No, I sha'n't lie down till I have +them! I'm going to find them if you won't! I will not listen to you, +Floyd, I won't ... I won't--" + +Each time the words came forth they were followed by a moan which tore +the man's heart as it had never been torn before. For a single instant +he drew himself together, forced down the terrible emotion in his +breast, and leaned over his wife. + +"Fledra, Fledra, I command you to obey me! Lie down! I am going to bring +you back your babies." + +He had never spoken to her in such a tone of authority. She sank under +it with parted lips and swift-coming breath. + +"But I want my babies, Floyd!" she whispered. "How can I think of them +out in the cold and the storm, perhaps being tortured--" + +"Fledra, sweet love, precious little mother, am I not their father, and +don't you trust me? Wait--wait a moment!" + +He moved the babe from her mother's side, called the nurse, and in a low +tone told her to keep the child until he should send for her. Then he +slipped his arms about the wailing mother, lay down beside her, and drew +her to his breast. + +During the next few hours of darkness he watched her--watched her until +the night gave way to a shadowy dawn. And as she slept he still held +her, praying tensely that he might be given power to keep his promise to +her. When she started up he gathered her closer and hushed her to sleep +as a mother does a suffering child. How gladly he would have borne her +larger share, yet more gladly would he have convinced himself that by +morning the children would be again under his roof! + +At last Mrs. Vandecar awoke, calmer and with ready faith to acknowledge +that she believed he would accomplish his task. At her own request, he +brought their tiny baby. + +"Will you see Katherine, too, Fledra," ventured Vandecar. "The poor +child hasn't slept much, and she can't be persuaded to eat." + +Misery, deep and pathetic, flashed in the blue eyes Mrs. Vandecar raised +to his. At length she faltered: + +"Floyd, I've never loved Katherine as I should. I'm sorry.... Yes, yes, +I will see her--and you will bring me my babies!" + +Vandecar stooped and kissed her; then, with a tightening of his throat, +went out. + +Five minutes later a small girl followed Mr. Vandecar in and stood +beside the bed. Fledra Vandecar took the little girl-face in her hands +and kissed it. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + + +The years went on, with the gap still left wide in the Vandecar +household. As month after month passed and nothing was heard of her +children, Mrs. Vandecar gradually gave up hope. Her despair left a +shadow of pathetic pleading in her blue eyes. This constant silent +appeal whitened Floyd Vandecar's hair and caused him to apply himself to +business more assiduously than ever. Never once in all those bitter +years did he connect Lon Cronk with the disappearance of his babies. + +Meantime two sturdy children were growing to girlhood and boyhood in the +Cronk hut on Cayuga Lake. So safely had the secret of the kidnapping +been kept from Granny Cronk and the other squatters in the settlement +that the twins were regarded by all as the son and daughter of the +squatter. + +The year following Flea's and Flukey's fourteenth birthday the boy was +taken into his foster-father's trade of thieving. At first he was +allowed only to enter the houses and deftly unbar the door for an easier +egress for Eli Cronk and Lem Crabbe. Later he was commanded to snatch up +anything of value he could. Many were the times he wept in boyish +bitterness against the commands of Lon, revealing his sorrows to Flea, +who listened moodily. + +"I wouldn't steal nothin' if I was you," she said again and again. But +Flukey one day silenced this reiteration by confiding to her that Pappy +Lon had threatened to turn her to his trade if he rebelled. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon in late September, Flea left the hut and went out to the +lake. Flukey, Lon Cronk, and Lem Crabbe had gone to Ithaca to buy +groceries, and it was time for them to return. A chill wind swung the +girl's skirt about her knees, and for some minutes she squatted on the +beach, keeping her eyes upon the lighthouse in the distance. + +For the last year Flea had been rapidly growing into a woman. Granny +Cronk had proudly noted that the fair face had grown lovelier, that the +ebony curls fell about her shoulders. The one dream the girl had had was +a dream of long hair, ankle dresses, and girl's shoes. Until that year +Lon had insisted that her hair be kept short, and had himself trimmed +the ebony curls every month. Now, in the damp air, they twisted and +turned in the wildest profusion. The coming of womanhood had thrown new +light into the clear-gray, brown-flecked eyes. At this moment she was +wondering what she and her brother would do if Granny Cronk died. She +shivered as she thought of life in the hut without the protecting old +woman. + +Suddenly, from above the Lehigh Valley tracks, she heard the sound of +horses' hoofs. Her attention taken from her meditations, she lifted her +pensive gaze from the lake, wheeled about, and looked for the horseman. +Flea knew that it was not a summer cottager; for many days before the +last of them had taken his family to Ithaca. Perhaps some chance +wayfarer had followed the wrong road. Just below the tracks she caught a +glimpse of a black horse, and as it came nearer Flea noted the rider, a +young man whose kindly dark eyes and white teeth dazzled her. His +straight legs were incased in yellow boots, his fine form in a tightly +fitting riding-coat. Flea had never seen just such a man, not even in +the infrequent visits she made to Ithaca. Something in his smile, as he +drew up his steed and looked down upon her, affected her with a curious +thrill. + +"Little girl, will you tell me if I am on the right road to Glenwood?" + +Flea's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. His voice, cultivated and +deep, made her forget for a moment the question he had asked her. Then +she remembered; but instinctively she did not reply in her usual high +squatter tones. + +"Nope, ye got to go back, and turn to the right at the top of the hill. +Ye can't go round the shore from here; the water's too high." + +This impulsive desire to choose her words and to modulate her voice came +from a sudden realization that there lived another class of people +outside the squatter settlement of whom she knew little. + +"Thank you very much," replied the questioner. "Now I understand that if +I ride to the top of the hill and turn to the right, I'll reach +Glenwood?" + +"Yep," answered Flea. + +Her embarrassment caused her lips to close over the one word. +Wonderingly she watched the man ride away until the sight of his dark +horse was lost in the trees above the tracks. + +"It were a prince," she stammered in a low tone, "a real live prince!" + +Flea contemplated the darkening hills with moody eyes. She counted +slowly one by one the towers of the university buildings. This she did +merely from habit; for the expression remained unchanged on her +melancholy face. At length the gray eyes dropped to the water and fixed +their gaze upon a fishing boat turning toward the shore. A few moments +before it had been but a black speck near the lighthouse; but as it came +nearer Flea distinctly saw the two men and the boy in it. Upon the bow +of the boat was perched Snatchet, a yellow terrier, his short ears +perked up with happiness at the prospect of supper. When the craft +touched shore the girl rose and ran toward it. Almost in fear, she +searched the face of the youth at the rudder with eyes so like his own +that they seemed rather a reflection than another pair. She said no word +until she took her position beside the boy on the shore, slipping her +hand into his as she walked by his side toward the hut. + +"Be ye back for the night, Flukey?" she asked. + +"Nope." + +"Where ye goin' after supper?" + +"To Ithaca." + +"Air ye leg a hurtin' ye much?" + +"Yep." + +"Granny Cronk says as how yer pains be rheumatiz. If ye stay in out of +the night air, ye'll get well." + +"Pappy Lon won't let me," sighed Flukey. + +He sank down on the cabin threshold, and as he spoke drew a blue trouser +leg slowly up. + +"Damn knee!" he groaned. "It gets so twisted! And sometimes I can't +walk." + +"Be ye goin' to steal again tonight?" asked the girl, bending toward +him. + +"Yep, with Pappy Lon and Lem. I hate it all, I do!" he cried +impetuously. + +"What makes ye go? Take a lickin', an' I bet ye'll stay to hum. I +would!" + +With a spiteful shake of the black curls, she rubbed a bare toe over +Snatchet's yellow back. + +"I wish I was a boy," she went on. "While I hate stealin', I'd do it to +have ye stay to hum, Flukey; then ye'd get well. And--" + +She broke off abruptly and lowered her eyes to the shore, where Lem and +Lon were in earnest conversation. At the same moment Lon looked up and +shouted a command: + +"Flea gal, Flea gal, come down here to me!" + +Flea dropped the hand of her brother, moved directly to the water's +edge, and stood quietly until Lon chose to speak. + +Lem Crabbe's eyes devoured the slight young figure, his smile contorting +the corners of his whiskered mouth. One hand rested on the bow of the +boat, while the long, rusty hook, sharp at the point and thick ironed at +the top, protruded from the other coat-sleeve. + +At last Lon Cronk began to speak deliberately, and the girl gave him her +attention. + +"Flea, ye be a woman now, ain't ye?" he said "Ye be fifteen this comin' +Saturday." + +"Yep, Pappy Lon." + +"And yer brother be fifteen on the same day, you bein' twins." + +"Yep, Pappy Lon." + +"Yer brother's been taken into my trade," proceeded the squatter, "and +it ain't the wust in the world--that of takin' what ye want from them +that have plenty. It's time for ye to be doin' somethin', too. Ye'll go +to Lem's Scow, Flea." + +"To Lem's scow?" exclaimed Flea. "That ain't no place for a kid, and +nobody ain't a wantin' me, nuther! I know there ain't!" + +"Ain't there nobody a wantin' her in yer scow, Lem Crabbe?" grinned Lon. + +"Ye bet there be!" answered Lem, with an evil leer. + +Flukey, who had approached the group, placed himself closer to his +sister. "Who--who be wantin' Flea, Lem Crabbe?" he demanded. + +"It's me, it's me!" replied Lem, wheeling savagely about. + +[Illustration: "LET ME--STAY A BIT--I'LL GO UP FOR TWICE MY TIME."] + +For a short space of time nothing but the splash of the waves could be +heard as they rolled white on the shore. A change passed over Flea, and +she clutched fiercely at her brother's fingers. It was as if she had +said, "Help me, Flukey, if ye can!" But she did not speak the words; +only stared at the hook-armed man with strained eyes. + +"Flea ain't no notion of goin' away right yet, Pappy Lon," burst out +Flukey, catching his breath after the shock. "She's perferrin' to stay +with us; and I'll work for her keep, if ye let her stay." + +"Nope, I ain't no notion o' marryin'," repeated Flea, encouraged by her +brother's insistence. + +"Who said as how Lem wanted ye to marry him?" sneered Lon, eying her +from head to foot. "Yer notions one way or nother ain't nothin' to me, +my gal. Ye'll go with the man I choose for ye, and that's all there be +to it!" + +Dazed by his first words, she whispered, "I hate Lem Crabbe!" + +As if by its own volition, the hook rose threateningly to within a short +distance of the fair, appealing face. But it dropped again, as Lon +repeated: + +"That ain't nothin' to do with the thing, nuther, Flea. A man ain't a +seekin' for a lovin' woman. He wants her to take care of his shanty and +what he gets by hard work, he does, and he gives her victuals and drink +for the doin' of it. That's enough for you, or for any gal what's a +squatter." + +So well did Flea realize the powerlessness of the rigid boy at her side +to help her, that she dropped his hand and alone went nearer to the +thief. + +"Can't I stay with you and with Granny Cronk for another year? Can't I +stay? Can't I, Pappy Lon?" + +"Nope, I wouldn't keep ye in the shanty if ye had money for yer keeps. +Ye go on a Saturday to Lem's boat to be his woman, ye see?" + +The iron hook by this time was hanging loosely by Lem's side; but a +cruel expression had gathered on the sullen face. A frown drew the +crafty eyes together, bespeaking wrath at the girl's words. + +That he would have her at the bidding of her father, Lem never doubted. +During the last three years he had been resolved to take her home in due +time to be his woman. To subdue the proud young spirit, to make her the +mother of children like himself,--the boys destined to be thieves, and +the girls squatter women,--was his one ambition. That he was old enough +to be her father made no difference to him. + +He was watching her as she stood in the darkening twilight, gloating +over the thought that his vicious dreams were so near their fulfilment. + +Flea was looking into the eyes of her father, and he looked back at her +with an impudent smile. + +"Ye don't like the thought of this comin' Saturday, Flea--eh?" he asked +slowly. "But, as I said before, a gal hain't nothin' to do with the +notions of her daddy. And Granny Cronk'll give ye a pork cake to take to +Lem's, and he'll let ye eat it all to yerself. Eh, Lem?" + +"Yep," grunted Lem. "She eats the pork cake if she will; but after +that--" + +Suddenly Lon silenced Lem's words with a wag of his head toward the +girl. "Flea," he said, "I telled Lem as how ye'd kiss him tonight." + +The words stunned the girl, they were so unexpected, so terrible. She +turned her eyes upon Lem and fearfully studied his face. He was gazing +back, his open lips showing his discolored, broken teeth. The coarse, +red hair sprinkled with gray gave a fierce aspect to his whole +appearance, and from the emotion through which he was passing the +muscles under his chin worked to and fro. With a grin he advanced toward +her. Flea fell back against Flukey. The boy steadied the trembling, +slender body. + +"I ain't a goin' to kiss ye," she muttered. "I hate yer kisses! I hate +'em!" + +"Ye'll kiss him, jest the same!" ordered Lon. + +Closer and closer Lem came toward the girl; then suddenly he sprang at +her like a tiger, crushing the slim figure against his breast. For a +moment Flea was encircled by his left arm. Then she turned fiercely to +the ugly face so close to hers, and in another instant had bitten it +through the cheek. He dropped her with a yelling oath, and Flea sprang +back, turning flashing eyes upon Lon. + +"That's how I kiss him afore I go to him," she screamed, "and worser and +worser after he takes me!" + +Lon laughed wickedly. He had not expected such a display of spirit. "I +guess ye'll have to wait, Lem," he said; "fer--" + +Flea did not hear the rest of the sentence; for she and Flukey were +hurrying toward the hut. + +Lem stood wiping the blood from his face. "The cussed spit-cat!" he +hissed. "When I take her in hand--" + +"When ye take her in hand, Lem," interrupted Lon darkly, "ye can do what +ye like. Break her spirit! Break her neck, if ye want to! I don't care." + + * * * * * + +The children found Granny Cronk with bent shoulders and palsied hands +toiling over the supper. About the withered neck hung a red +handkerchief, and on top of the few gray whisps of hair rested a +spotless cap. She grunted as the children entered the room like a +whirlwind and climbed the long ladder to the loft, where for some time +the low voice of Flukey and the sobs of Flea could be heard in the +kitchen below. + +It was not until her son had entered and hung his cap upon the peg that +the old woman ventured to speak. + +"Be Flea in a tantrum, Lon?" + +"Yep, ye bet she be!" + +"Have ye been a beatin' her?" + +"Nope, I never teched her," replied the squatter; "but I will beat her, +if she don't do what I tell her. No matter how she kicks ag'in' my +notions, she has to do 'em, Granny!" + +"Yep, I know that; but I asked ye what she was a blubberin' about." + +"'Cause I says as how on Saturday she's got to go and be Lem's +woman--that's what I says." + +"Lem's woman! Do ye mean that she's got to go away?" + +"Yep, with Lem Crabbe," replied Cronk; "he's to be her man on her next +birthday. I bet he brings the kid to his likin'!" + +"Lem's a bad man, Lon," replied Mrs. Cronk, "and ye be one, too, if ye +be my own son, and Flea's your own flesh and blood, and I like her. It +would be a good thing if ye let her stay to hum while I be a livin'; and +I mean what I say, and I'm yer mammy, and that's the truth!" + +"Mammy or no mammy," answered Cronk sullenly, "Flea goes to Lem, and ye +makes her a pork cake, which she can hog down at one gulp, for all I +care--the damn brat! I say it, and Lem says it. He'll dry her tears +after she's left hum, I'm a guessin'!" + +Seeing the futility of arguing the question, Mrs. Cronk placed the fish +and beans on his plate and, with a shrill cry to Flea and Flukey, sat +down to eat. + + * * * * * + +As he stumbled along the rocks to the scow, Lem Crabbe uttered dark +threats against the girl who had bitten him. Her temper and the +spontaneous deed that had marked his face did not lessen his longing to +call her his woman, nor did it take the fever of desire from his veins. +It had strengthened his passion to such a degree that he now determined +to permit nothing to interfere with his plans. For at least three years +he had lived on the promise of Lon Cronk that he should have the girl +for weal or woe. Six months before he had offered Lon anything within +his power to set the day of Flea's coming to him nearer; but the thief +had shaken his head with the thought that Flea as a girl would not +suffer through indignities as she would as a woman. He felt no remorse +for the other girl that he had ruined so many years back; but he kept +out of the way of the crazy woman who sometimes crossed his path. + +Tonight Lem entered the living-room of his boat, muttering an oath that +ended in a groan, dropped the basket on the table, and struck a match. +He was touching it to the candle, when a sound in the corner startled +him. He turned as he finished his task and saw the brilliant eyes of +Scraggy's cat as the animal sat perched on the woman's shoulder. The +presence of Screech Owl surprised him so that he did not move for a +moment, and she spoke first: + +"I hain't seed ye in such a long time, Lem, that I thought I'd come and +let ye see my new kitty. He ain't but two years old." + +Lem took a long breath. At first he thought that this must be Scraggy's +wraith come to haunt him after some horrible lonely death. He had far +rather deal with a living Scraggy than a dead one, and at once recovered +his composure. + +"I hain't sent for ye, have I?" he asked, hanging up his coat. "And if I +ain't sent for ye, then ye needn't be sneakin' round." + +"I've a lot to say to ye," sighed Scraggy mournfully, "and I thought as +how the night was better than the day. It's dark now." + +"Then ye'd better trot hum," put in Lem, "if ye don't want another +beatin'." + +"I ain't goin' to get no beatin' tonight," assured the woman, throwing +one arm over the bristling cat, "'cause I comed to tell ye somethin'." + +Lem turned on her sharply; for Scraggy seemed to speak sanely. + +"The bats be gone from my brain, Lem, and I want to tell ye somethin' +'bout Flea--Flea Cronk--and to tell ye that I be hungry." + +"What about Flea?" snapped Lem. "Ye're bein' hungry ain't nothin' to do +with me. If ye got somethin' to tell me that I want to hear, lip it out, +and then scoot; for I ain't no time to bother with ye. My time's +precious, Scraggy--see?" + +"Yep; but I ain't goin' to tell ye nothin' till ye give me somethin' to +eat." + +She cast ravenous eyes on the small bundles Lem was placing on the +table. + +"I'll give ye a piece of bread an' 'lasses," was the grudging answer. +"And mind ye, I wouldn't do that but I want to hear what ye say 'bout +Flea." + +Avidly the woman ate the thick slice of bread and treacle, offering a +bit now and then to the cat. When she had devoured it Lem spoke: + +"Now wash it down with this here water and tell me yer tale--and if ye +lie to me I'll kill ye!" + +"I ain't a goin' to lie to ye--I'll tell ye the truth, I will!" + +They both drank, the man from the bottle, the woman from a tin cup. +Presently she asked: + +"Be ye goin' to marry Flea Cronk?" + +"Who's been carryin' tales to ye?" shouted Lem, bounding from his chair. +"Ye better be a mindin' yer own affairs, or ye'll be havin' nothin' but +bats in yer head till ye die. Scoot for hum! Ye hear?" + +"Yep; but I ain't goin' jest yet. Ye want to hear 'bout Flea, don't ye?" + +"Yep." + +"Then set down an' I'll tell ye." + +Lem, growling impatience, seated himself. + +"Flea Cronk ain't for you, Lem!" + +"Who said as how she ain't?" demanded Lem, starting up. The cat spat +viciously, startled by the sudden movement. "I wish ye'd left that damn +cat to hum! I hain't no notion to be bit by no cat." + +"Kitty won't bite ye if ye let me alone--will ye, Kitty? I ain't never +afeard of nothin' when I got him with me--be I, Kitty, pretty pussy?" + +"Stop a cooin', ye bughouse woman," snarled Crabbe, "and tell me what ye +got to!" + +"I said Flea wasn't for you." + +"Ye lie!" + +He made a desperate move toward her; but the cat rose threateningly, its +hair standing on end in a mound upon the humped back. Lem fell away with +an oath, and Scraggy, smiling wanly, petted the vicious brute. + +"I said ye was to keep away, Lem. Wait till I get done. Flea's got to be +some 'un else's, not yers." + +"Who's?" Lem's voice rose; but he did not advance toward her. + +"I dunno; but I seed him. He rides a black horse, and has a fine, big +body and wears yeller boots. This afternoon when the day was darkenin' I +saw him from the railroad bed, and I saw Flea's spirit a travelin' with +him. I know that ye cared for her this long time back; but ye can't have +her." + +"Who be the feller?" demanded Lem, frowning. + +"I said I didn't know, and I don't." + +"Were Flea with him?" + +"Nope; not in her body, but jest in her spirit." + +"Rats! Scoot along with ye, and take yer cat and get out!" + +Scraggy had not noticed the blood oozing from Lem's, cheek until she had +received her dismissal. She passed a long, red, bare arm about the +animal and asked: + +"Who bit yer cheek, Lem?" + +"Who says it were bit?" + +"I say it. I see white teeth a goin' in it. And I see red lips ag'in' it +with deadly hate." + +Lem glanced forbiddingly at the woman. "The bats be a comin' again," he +muttered, "and there ain't no tellin' what she'll do. If it wasn't for +that blasted cat, I'd chuck her in the lake!" + +But he dared not carry out his threat; for Scraggy was muttering to +herself, the cat rebuffing her rough handling. + +In another minute she rose and made toward the steps. Her eyes fell upon +Lem, and sanity flashed back into them. + +"I gived the boy to the woman--with golden hair," she stammered, as if +some power were forcing the words from her. "Ye would have killed him. +Yer kid be a livin', Lem!" + +Truth rang in her statement, and the man got to his feet abruptly. He +had almost forgotten the black-haired little boy. Only when Scraggy's +name was mentioned to him did he remember. But the woman's words awoke a +new feeling in his heart, and mentally he counted back the years to the +date of his son's birth. Scraggy was still looking at him in +bewilderment, scarcely realizing that her story had been told to the +enemy of her child. She battled with a desire to blurt out the whole +truth; but the man's next words silenced her. + +"Who be the golden-haired woman, Scraggy?" he wheedled. + +"What woman--what golden-haired woman?" + +"The woman who has our brat." + +Like lightning a sudden joy filled Scraggy's heart. Her benumbed love +for Lem Crabbe grew mighty in a moment and rushed over her. His words +were softly spoken with an old-time inflection. She sank down with a +cry. She was so near him that the cat rose and spat venomously. Lem's +curses brought Scraggy out of her dreams. + +"Chuck that damn cat to the bank," ordered Lem, "if ye want to stay with +me! Do ye hear? Chuck him out!" + +"Nope, I ain't a goin' to! I'm goin' hum." + +"Not till ye tell me where the boy is. Didn't ye throw him in the +river?" + +"Nope." + +"What did ye do with him?" + +"Gived him away." + +"Ye lie! That winder was open, and the river was dark as hell. Ye +throwed him in, I tell ye!" + +"Nope; I gived him to a woman--" + +She stopped and edged toward the stairs, all her old fear of him +returning. Reaching the short flight, she bounded up, the cat clinging +to her sleeve. Lem did not follow; for the crazy woman had frightened +him. He stood with hushed breath, holding grimly to the wooden table. A +voice from the deck of the scow came down to him. + +"I gived him to a rich woman on a yacht. He's rich with mints of money. +Yer kid's a gentleman, Lem Crabbe!" + +He sprang after her to the deck; but nothing greeted him save the cry of +an owl from the ragged rocks and the glistening green of the cat's eyes +as Scraggy hurried away. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + + +After eating his supper, Lon, sullen and moody, looked out upon the +lake, reviewing in his mind the terrible revenge he was soon to +complete. He took his pipe slowly from his pocket and filled it with +coarse tobacco. Soon gray rings lifted themselves to the ceiling and +faded into the rafters. As the smoke curled upward, his mind became busy +with the past, and so vivid was his imagination that outlined in the +smoke rings that floated about him was a girlish face--a face pale and +wan, but a loving, sweet one to him. He could see the fair curls which +clung close to the head; the eyes, serious but kind, seemed to strike +his memory in unforgotten glances. To another than himself the +smoke-formed face would have been plain, perhaps ugly, the weakness of +her race showing in every feature; but not to him. So intent was he with +these thoughts that the present dissolved completely into the past, and +beside him stood a small, fond woman. In his imagination she had risen +from that grave which he had never been able to find in the Potter's +Field. The personality of his dead wife called upon his senses and made +itself as necessary to him then as in the moment of his first rapture +when she had placed her womanly might upon his soul. + +His revenge upon Floyd Vandecar would be finished when the gray-eyed +Flea, so like her own father, went away with the one-armed man, to eke +out her destiny amid the squalor of the thief's home. + +For months he had been enthralled with the satisfaction of the last act +in the one terrible drama of his life; for it had played with his rude +fancy as a tigress does with her prey, inflaming his hatred and keeping +alive his desire for retaliation. Flukey was a good thief, although +obeying him at the end of the lash, and Flea would receive her portion +of hate's penalty on her fifteenth birthday. + +Cronk did not heed the pitter-patter of his mother's feet as she cleared +the table, nor did he hear the droning of the twin's voices in the loft +above. He was thinking of how the dead woman with her child--his child, +the one small atom he would have loved better than himself--would be +well avenged when Flea went away with Lem. + +Lon had kept track of the doings of the young district attorney. He knew +that he had gone to the gubernatorial chair but the year before. The +squatter smiled gloomily as he remembered the words of a newspaper +friendly to Vandecar, in which he had read that Syracuse was full of +painful memories for the new governor, and that Floyd Vandecar had taken +his family down the Hudson, to make another home at Tarrytown, where +Harold Brimbecomb, a youthful friend, resided. Another expression of +dark gratification flitted over Lon's heavy features as he reviewed +again the purport of the article. It had plainly said that in the new +home there would be fewer visions of a lost boy and girl to haunt the +afflicted parents. Lon realized in his savage heart that the change of +scene would not lessen the grief of the stricken family. It was his one +satisfaction to brood over the bereaved father and mother, delighting in +his part of the tragedy and enjoying every evidence of it. Never for a +moment did he think gently of the children, but only of the woman +sacrificed. On this night she stood so close that, with a groan, he put +out his hand. His flesh tingled; for he felt that he could almost touch +her, and his heart clamored for the warmth of the tender body he had +never forgotten. + +"God!" he moaned between his teeth, "if I could tech her once, jest for +once, I'd let Flea stay to hum!" + +"Did ye speak, Lon?" asked Granny Cronk. + +"Nope; I were only a thinkin'." + +"Have ye changed yer mind 'bout Flea?" + +"Nope, Mammy, and ye keep yer mouth shet if ye want me to stay to hum! +See?" + +Granny Cronk grunted a reply, and passed into the back room. Five +minutes later the rope cot creaked under her weight. + +Wrapped in his somber musings, Lon did not hear Flea approach him until +she was at his elbow. With her coming, the sweet phantom, to which he +grimly held in his moments of solitude, fled back to its unknown grave. +Never had his loved one been so near, so real; never before had she +touched his writhing nature in all its primeval strength. The girl +before him was so like the man who had withstood his agony that he +clenched his fist and rose from his chair. Flea was looking at him in +mute appeal; but before she could speak he had lifted his fist and +brought it down upon the lovely, beseeching face. The blow stunned her; +but only a smothered moan fell from her lips. + +"I hate ye!" growled Lon. "Get back to the loft afore I kill ye!" + +Slowly Flea was regaining her senses, and the squatter's curses struck +her ears like a whiplash. Bitter, scalding tears blinded her as, holding +her thin skirt to her bleeding nose, she stumbled up the ladder. With +anger unappeased, Lon, staggering like one drunken, took his cap from +the peg and went out. + + * * * * * + +When Lon called Flukey, Flea followed her brother into the night, while +he arranged the thief's tools in the boat. There was a dull roar and +rush of the wind, as it tossed the lake into gigantic whitecaps, which +added to the girl's suffering. Her young soul was smarting beneath the +scathing injustice. As she watched Lem and Lon pull away, with Flukey at +the rudder, Flea squatted on the beach, bent her head, and wept long and +wildly. + +A gentle, sympathetic touch of a warm tongue made her put out her arms +and draw Snatchet into them. It comforted her to feel the faithful heart +beating against her own. That Lon disliked to have her and Flukey about +him, she knew; but she had not known until today that he hated her. He +had never before told her so. Flea caught her breath in a gasp, and +turned her eyes to a rift in a rock where the scow lay. Only a dark line +distinguished it in the shadows. At the thought that it was to be forced +upon her for a home, she cried again, and Snatchet, from his haven of +rest, lifted his pointed yellow nose and wailed dismally, striving with +all his dog's soul to assuage her unusual grief. + +The distant sound of a hoot-owl startled Flea from her tears. It was a +familiar sound to her and came as a call from a friend. + +Creeping into the low woodshed, Flea took up a bundle of fagots from the +corner, and, closing the door on Snatchet that he might not follow her, +mounted the hill with the wood under her arm. Once at the top of the +lane, she opened her lips and echoed the hoot. She passed through a +thicket of sumac into a clearing where a number of sheep were huddled +together in the cold night air. An answer came back almost instantly +from the ragged rocks, and, squatting in a hollow, Flea sat patiently +until the branches broke below her. A woman with tangled hair came +creeping cautiously forward. + +"Who be there?" she whispered. + +"It's Flea, Screech Owl. Be the bats a runnin' in yer head?" + +"Yep, child," the woman answered mournfully. "The fagots be given out, +too, and I'm a huntin' of 'em. The night's cold." + +"I was lookin' for ye this afternoon, Screechy," said Flea. "Set down." + +The lean, half-starved woman dropped beside the girl. Flea put out her +hand and smoothed down the rough hair on Scraggy's black cat. The +animal, usually so vicious, purred in delight, rubbing his nose against +the girl's hand. + +"Air the little Flea wantin' the owl to tell her somethin'?" + +"Yep," replied Flea doubtfully. + +"And ye brought yer old Screechy a little present?" + +"Yep." + +"What?" + +"Some fagots to keep ye warm, Screechy." + +"Where be they?" + +"Here by my side." + +"Ye be a good Flea," cackled Screechy. "Be ye in trouble?" + +"Yep. So be Flukey. Can ye tell me anything 'bout Flukey?" + +The woman frowned. "Flukey, Flukey, yer brother," she repeated. "I ain't +a likin' boys, 'cause they throw stones at me." + +"Flukey never throwed no stones at ye, Screechy, an' he's unhappy now. +He'll bring ye a lot more fagots sometime to heat yer bones by." + +"Aye, I'm a needin' heat. My bones be stiff, and my blood's nothin' but +water, and my eyes ain't seein' nothin'." + +"Don't they see things in the dark," asked the girl, superstitiously, +"ghosts and things?" + +"Aye, Flea; and the things I see now I'll tell ye if they be good or +bad--mind ye, good or bad!" + +"Good or bad," repeated Flea. + +At length, after a silence, the girl broke forth. "Air Flukey in yer +eyes, Screechy?" + +"Yep, Flea, and so be you; but there ain't much for ye, savin' that ye +go a long journey lookin' for a good land." + +Bending her head nearer, Flea coaxed, "What good land, Screechy dear?" + +"Yer's and Flukey's, Flea." + +"Where air it?" + +"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch for yer short legs from +the squatter's settlement, and many a day when bread's short and water's +plenty, many a night when the cold'll bite yer legs, and many a tear--" + +"Be we leavin' Pappy Lon?" demanded the girl. + +"Yep." + +"Forever and forever?" + +"For Flukey, yep; but for yerself--" + +Flea stared in speechless wonder and fright. "I don't want to stay +without Flukey!" she cried. + +"I ain't a tellin' ye what ye want to do; only how the shadders run. But +that's a weary day off. The good land be yers and Flukey's for the +seekin' of it." + +"Air Flukey goin' to be catched a thievin'?" + +"Yep, some day." + +"With Pappy Lon?" + +"Nope, with yerself, Flea." + +"I ain't no thief," replied Flea sulkily. "I ain't never took nothin', +not so much as a chicken! And Flukey wouldn't nuther if Pappy Lon didn't +make him." + +From behind Screech Owl's shrouding gray hair two black eyes glittered. + +"The good land, the good land!" whispered the madwoman. "It be all +comin' for yerself and Flukey." + +[Illustration: "AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?"] + +"Be I goin' to--" Flea sat back on her bare toes, her face suddenly +darkening with rage. "I won't go with him! I won't, Screechy, if he was +in every old eye in yer head! I won't, so there!" + +The darkness hid from Screech Owl the glint in Flea's eyes. + +"Who be it Lon said you was goin' with, Flea?" + +Scraggy must have forgotten her conversation with Lem but an hour or two +before; for she evinced no knowledge of any man interested in Flea. + +"A one-armed man. Pappy says I'm to be his woman. Be I, Screechy?" + +"Nope; but I see a hook a whirlin' in the air into the good land, a +whirlin' and a whirlin' after ye. I see it a stealin' on ye in the night +when ye think ye're safe. I see the sharp p'int of it a stickin' into +yer soft flesh--" + +"Don't, don't!" pleaded Flea in a smothered voice. "Ye said as how I +were goin' with Flukey to a good land down behind the college hill." + +"So ye be," assented the Owl; "but after ye get to the good land the +sharp p'int of the hook'll come and rip at ye. I see it a haulin' ye +back away from them what ye loves--" + +Flea grasped the woman's arm between her fingers and pressed nearer +Scraggy with a startled cry. The cat, hissing, lashed a bushy tail from +side to side. His eyes flashed green, and a cry came from Flea's lips. +In another instant she was speeding away down the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + + +At three o'clock the next morning a boat left the lighthouse at the head +of Cayuga Lake and was rowed toward the western shores. As before, two +men and a boy were in it. The lad was still at the rudder, while the men +swiftly cut the water stroke by stroke. For three miles down the lake no +one spoke; but when the boat scraped the shore in front of his hut Lon +broke the silence. + +"It weren't a bad haul tonight, were it, Lem?" he said almost jovially. +"And tomorry ye come up to the shanty for the dividin'. Ye know I +wouldn't cheat a hair o' yer head, don't ye, Lem?" + +"Yep, ye bet I know it! And I'm that happy 'cause I'm to take yer gal a +Saturday that I could give ye the hull haul tonight, Lon." + +"Ye needn't do that, Lem. I give ye Flea 'cause I want ye to have her, +and I know that you'll make her stand round and mind ye, and if she +don't--" + +"Then I'll make her!" put in Lem darkly. "She'll give back no more bites +for my kisses when I get her! I had a woman a long time ago, and when +she didn't mind me I beat her, and beat her and beat her hard! That's +the way to do with women folks!" + +"Ye had Scraggy, didn't ye, Lem?" asked Lon, heaping his arm with his +clothing. + +Flukey stood silently by, his pale face ghastly in the thin, yellow +moonlight. + +"Yep; but Scraggy wasn't no good. I didn't like her. I do like Flea, +and I'd stick to her, too. I'd marry her if ye'd say the word." + +"Nope, I ain't a askin' ye to marry her. Yer jest make her stand around, +and break her spirit if ye can. Flea ain't like Flukey; she's hard to +beat a thing out of." + +"I know how to handle her!" answered Lem. The silent laughter in his +throat ended in a grunt. He slung a small basket over the hook and went +off up the rocks to his scow. + +"Ye can go to bed, Flukey," said Lon. "Ye've done a good night's +work--and mind ye it ain't wicked to take what ye want from them havin' +plenty." + +Lon hesitated before proceeding. "And, Flukey, if ye know what's good +for Flea, don't be settin' her up ag'in' my wishes, 'cause if she don't +do what I tell her it'll be the worse for her!... Scoot to bed!" + +The boy stood for a moment, opened his lips to plead with the big, +sullen squatter for his sister; but, changing his mind, limped off to +the cabin. + + * * * * * + +When the shanty was quiet a girl's figure shrouded in black curls +crawled across the hut floor to the loft ladder. Flea ascended quickly; +but halted at the top to catch her breath. She could hear from the other +side of the partition the sound of Lon's heavy snores, and from the +corner came the lighter breathing of her brother. Through the small loft +window the moonbeams shone, and by them Flea could see the boy's dark +head and strong young arm under the masses of thick hair. + +She began to crawl toward the cot, wriggling like a huge worm across the +bare boards. Several times she paused, trying to suppress her frightened +heartbeats. Then, lifting her hand, she placed it over Flukey's mouth +and whispered: + +"Fluke, Fluke, wake up! It's Flea!" + +Flukey made no movement to dislodge his tightly pressed lips from the +trembling fingers. The gray eyes flashed open; but the lad lay perfectly +still. + +"Fluke," breathed Flea, "I'm goin' to the cave. Slip on yer pants, and +don't wake Granny Cronk nor Pappy Lon!" + +If it had not been that the boy pressed his fingers on the blanket, Flea +would have wondered if her brother had heard. + +The lithe form had crept back to the ladder and had disappeared before +Flukey slipped quietly from his bed and drew on the blue-jeans overalls. +As he stole through the kitchen, he could hear the snorts of Granny +Cronk coming from the back room. The outside door stood partly open, and +without hesitation he passed through and closed it after him that the +wind might not slam it. Then he limped along under the shore trees, up a +little hill, and dropped out of sight into an open cavern, where Flea, a +candle in her hand, sat in semidarkness. + +The cave had been the children's playground ever since they could +remember. Here they had come to weep over indignities heaped upon them +in childhood; here they had come in joy and in sorrow, and now, in +secret conclave in the early hours of the morning, they had come again. + +"Ye're here!" said Flea in feverish haste. "I feared ye'd go to sleep +again." + +"Nope; I allers come when ye want me, Flea." + +"Did ye steal tonight?" + +"Yep." + +"What did ye get?" + +The boy shuddered, and a strange, hunted expression came into his eyes. +"Spoons, knives, clothes, and things," said he; "and I'd ruther be tore +to pieces by wild bulls than ever steal again!" + +His voice was toned with an unnatural ring. Wonderingly, Flea drew +closer to him, the candle dripping white, round drops hot on the brown +hand. + +"But Pappy Lon says as how ye must steal, don't he?" she asked +presently. + +"Yep, and as how you must go with Lem." + +"I won't, I won't! Pappy Lon can kill me first!" + +She said this in passionate anger; but, upon holding the candle close to +Flukey's face, she exclaimed: + +"Fluke, don't look like that--it scares me!" + +He was piercing the dark ends of the cave, his eyes colored like steel. +They were softened only by shots of brown, which ran like chain +lightning through them. The girl's gaze followed her brother's timidly; +for he looked ahead, as if he saw something that threatened her and him. +In spite of her soft touch, the boy looked on and on in his unyielding +fierceness at the fast approaching inevitable, which he had not been +able to stem. That day a change had been ordered in their lives, and it +had come upon him in the shape of a mental blow that hurt him far worse +than if Pappy Lon had flogged him throughout the night. + +"If Pappy Lon sends me next Saturday to Lem," Flea ventured in an +undertone, "then ye can't help me much, can ye, Fluke?" + +The muscles of the boy's face relaxed, and he drew his knee up to his +chest. "When my leg ain't lame I'm strong enough to lick Lem, if--if--" + +"Nope; I ain't no notion for ye to lick him yet, Fluke. Do ye believe in +the sayin's of Screech Owl?" + +"Ye mean--" + +"Do ye believe what she says when the bats be a flyin' round in her +head, and when she sees the good land for you and myself, Flukey?" + +"Did she say somethin' 'bout a good land for us, Flea?" + +"Yep." + +"Where's the good land?" + +"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch from here--and, Flukey, I +ain't a goin' to Lena's, and ye ain't likin' to be a thief. Will ye come +and find the good land with me?" + +"Girls can't run away like boys can. They ain't able to bear hurt." + +Flea dropped her head with a blush of shame. She knew well that Flukey +could perform wonderful feats which she had been unable to do. Grandma'm +Cronk had told her that her dresses made the difference between her +ability and Flukey's. With this impediment removed, she could turn her +face toward the shining land predicted by Scraggy for Flukey and +herself; she could follow her brother over hills and into valleys, until +at last-- + +"I could wear a pair of yer pants and be a boy, too, and you could chop +off my hair," she exclaimed. "All I want ye to do is to grow to be a man +quick, and to lick Lem Crabbe if he comes after me. Will ye? Screechy +says he's goin' to follow me." + +"I'll lick him anywhere," cried the boy, his tears rising; "and if ye +has to go to him, and he as much as lays a finger on ye, I'll kill him!" + +His face was so rigidly drawn during his last threat that he hissed the +words out through his teeth. + +"Then ye'd get yer neck stretched," argued Flea, "and I ain't a goin' to +him. We be goin' away to the good land down behind the college hill." + +"When?" demanded Flukey. + +"Tonight," replied Flea. "Ye go and get some duds for me,--a shirt and +the other pair of yer jeans. Crib Granny's shears to cut my hair off. +Then we'll start. See? And we ain't never comin' back. Pappy Lon hates +me, and he's licked ye all he's goin' to. Git along and crib the duds!" + +She rose to her feet, nervously breaking away the little rivers of +grease that had hardened upon her hand and wrist. + +"Ye've got to get into the hut in the dark," she said, "and then ye +stand at the mouth of the cave while I put on the things." + +"How be we goin' to live when we go?" asked Flukey dully, making no move +to obey her. + +"We'll live in the good land where there be lots of bread and 'lasses," +she soothed; "the two dips in the dish at one time--jest think of that, +ole skate!" + +He tried to smile at her forced jocularity; but the hunted expression +saddened his eyes again. To these children, brought up animal-like in +the midst of misery and hate, their world revolved round their stomachs, +too often empty. But this new trouble--the terror of Flea's going with +Lem--had made a man of Flukey, and bread and molasses sank into +oblivion. He was ready to shield her from the thief with his life. + +"Get along!" ordered Flea. + +Instead of obeying, the boy sat down on a rounded stone. "I'd a runned +away along ago, if it hadn't been, for you, Flea." + +"I know that you love me," said the girl brokenly; "I know that, all +right!" + +"I couldn't have stood Pappy Lon nor Lem nor none of the rest," groaned +Flukey, "and I was to tell ye tonight to let me go, and I would come +back for ye; but if ye be made to go with Lem--" + +"That makes ye take me with you," gasped Flea eagerly. "Huh?" + +"Yep, that makes me take ye with me, Flea; but if we go mebbe sometimes +we have to go without no bread." + +There was warning in his tones; for he had heard stories of other lads +who had left the settlement and had returned home lank, pale, and +hungry. + +"I've been out o' bread here," encouraged Flea. "Granny's put me to bed +many a time, and no supper. Get along, will ye?" + +"Yep, I'm goin'; but I can't leave Snatchet. We can take my dorg, Flea. +Where's he gone?" + +"We'll take him," promised Flea. "He's in the wood-house. Scoot and get +the duds and him!" + +The boy toiled up the rocks to the top of the cave, and Flea heard his +departing steps for a moment, then seated herself in tremulous fear. + +Flukey pushed open the cabin door, listened a moment, and stepped in. No +sound save of loud breathing came from the back room where the old woman +slept. At the top of the ladder he could hear Lon snoring loudly. Flukey +crawled upon his knees to a small box against the wall. He pulled out a +pair of brown overalls and a blue shirt, and with great caution crept +back. Almost before Flea realized that he had gone, he was in the cave +again with Snatchet in his arms, displaying his plunder. + +"Put 'em on quick!" ordered Flukey. "Here, hold still!" As he spoke, he +gathered Flea's black curls into his fingers and cut them off boylike to +her head. "If Pappy Lon catches us," he went on, "he'll knock hell out +of us both." + +The girl, having surrendered her spirit of command, crawled into the +trousers and donned the blue shirt. After extinguishing the candle, +which Flukey slipped into his pocket, they clambered out of the cave, +leaving the rocky floor strewn with locks of hair, and stole softly +along the shore toward the college hill. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + + +Horace Shellington, newly fledged attorney and counsellor-at-law, sat in +his luxurious library, his feet cocked upon the desk in true bachelor +fashion. He was apparently deep in thought, his handsome head resting +against the back of the chair, when his meditations were broken by a +knock at the door. + +"Come in. Is it you, Sis?" he said. + +"Yes, Dear," was the answer as the girl entered. "Everett wants us to go +in his party to the Dryden fair. Would you like to?" + +Horace glanced up quizzically and smiled as the blush mounted to her +fair hair. "The question, Ann dear, rests with you." + +"I never tire being with Everett," Ann said slowly. + +"That's because you're in love with him, Sis. When a girl is in love she +always wants to be with the lucky chap." + +"And doesn't he want to be with her?" demanded Ann eagerly. + +"Of course. And, Ann, I shouldn't ask for a better fellow than Everett +is, only that I don't want you to leave me right away. Without you, +Dear, I think I should die of the blue devils!" + +"Do you want me to stay at home until you, too, get ready to marry?" Ann +asked laughingly. "I'm afraid I should never have a chance to help +Everett make a home if you did; for you simply won't like any of the +girls I know." + +"I want to get well started in my profession before I think of +marrying. I am happy over the fact that I have been able to enter +Vandecar's law office. He's the strongest man in the state in his line, +and it means New York for me some day. Vandecar is even more powerful +than Brimbecomb." + +"I'm glad for you, Horace, because it seems to me that you have an +opportunity that few men have. Nothing can ever keep you back! And you +are so very young, Dear!" + +"No, nothing can keep me back now, Ann. Sit down, do." + +"Not now, Dear; I'll run away from you, and tell Everett that you will +go to Dryden with us--and I do hope that the weather will be fine!" + +Ann tripped out, her heart light with contentment. Her star of happiness +had reached its zenith when Everett Brimbecomb had asked her to be his +wife. Rich in her own right, of the bluest blood in the state, soon to +marry the man who had been her ideal since their childhood days, why +should she not be happy? + +After leaving Horace, Ann went to the side window and tapped upon it. +Receiving no response, she lifted the sash and called softly to her +fiancé. Hearing her voice, Everett Brimbecomb appeared at the opposite +window. The girl's heart thrilled with happiness as he smiled upon her. + +"Run over a minute, Everett," she called. + +"All right, dear heart." + +His voice was so vibrantly low and rich that the girl experienced a +feeling of thanksgiving as she stood waiting for him at the door. When +he came, the lovers went into the drawing-room, where a grate fire +burned dim. + +"Horace says he'll go to Dryden, Everett," Ann announced, "and I'm so +glad! I thought he might say that he was too busy." + +Everett smiled, slipped his arm about the girl's waist, and for a moment +she leaned against him like a frail, sweet flower. + +Presently Ann noticed that a shadow had settled on her lover's face. +Womanlike, she questioned him. + +"Is there anything the matter, Dear?" she asked, drawing him to the +divan. + +"Nothing serious. I've been talking with Father." + +"Yes?" + +She waited for him to continue; but he sat silent, wrapped in thought +for a long minute. At last, however, he spoke gloomily: + +"Ann, I wish I knew who my own people were." + +"Aren't you satisfied with those you have, Everett?" There was sweet +reproof in the girl's tones. + +"More than satisfied," he said; "but somehow I feel--no I won't say it, +Ann. It would seem caddish to you." + +"Nothing you could say to me would seem that," she answered. + +Everett rose and walked up and down the room. "Well, it seems to me +that, although the blood of the Brimbecomb's is blue, mine is bluer +still; that, while they have many famous ancestors, I have still more +illustrious ones. I feel sometimes a longing to run wild and do +unheard-of things, and to make men know my strength, to--well, to +virtually turn the world upside down." + +A frightened look leaped into the girl's eyes. He was so vehement, so +passionate, so powerful, that at times she felt how inferior in +temperment she was to him. Her heart swelled with gratitude when she +realized that he belonged to her and to her alone. How good God had +been! And every day in the solitude of her chamber she had thanked the +Giver of every gift for this perfect man--since he was perfect to her. +In a few moments she rose and walked beside him, longing to enter into +the hidden ambitions of his heart, to read his innermost thoughts. +Everett appreciated her feeling. Again he passed his arm around her, and +for a time they paced to and fro, each thankful for the love that had +become the chief thing in life. + +"I have an idea, Ann," began Everett presently, "that my mother will +know me by the scar on me here." He raised his fingers to his shoulder +and drew them slowly downward as he continued. "And I know that she is +some wild, beautiful thing different from any other woman living. And +I've pictured my father in my mind's eyes a million times, since I have +found out I am not really Everett Brimbecomb." + +"But Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb have done everything for you--" + +"So they have," broke in Everett; "but a chap wants to know his own +flesh and blood, and, since Mother told me that I was not her own son, +I've looked into the face of every woman I've seen and wondered if my +own mother was like her. I don't want to seem ungrateful; but if they +would only tell me more I could rest easier." A painful pucker settled +between his brows. + +"Sit down here, Everett," Ann urged, "and tell me if you have ever tried +to find them." + +"I asked my fath--Mr. Brimbecomb today." His faltering words and the +change of appellation shocked Ann; but she did not chide him, for he was +speaking again. "I told him that, now I was through college and had been +admitted to the bar, I insisted upon knowing who my own people were. But +he said that I must ask his wife; that she knew, and would tell me, if +she desired me to know. I promised him long ago that I would register in +his law office at the same time that Horace went to Vandecar's. Confound +it, Ann!--I beg your pardon, but I feel as if I had been created for +something more than to drone over petty cases in a law office." + +"But, Everett, it has been understood ever since you went to Cornell +that you should enter Mr. Brimbecomb's office. You would not fail him +now that he is so dependent upon you?" + +"Of course not; I intend to work with him. But I tell you this, Ann, +that I am determined to find my own people at whatever cost!" + +"Did you ask Mrs. Brimbecomb about them?" + +"Yes; but she cried so that I stopped--and so it goes! Well, Dear, I +don't want to worry you. It only makes a little more work for me, that's +all. But, when I do find them, I shall be the proudest man in all the +world." + +Ann rose to her feet hastily. "Here comes Horace! Let's talk over the +fair--and now, Dear, I must kiss away those naughty lines between your +eyes this moment. I don't want my boy to feel sad." + +She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother. + +"I was tired of staying in there alone," said Horace. "Hello, Everett! +It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one +failing in the fall--I always go. Let me see--you didn't go last year, +did you, Everett?" + +"No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party +would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an +invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her." + +"Mrs. Vandecar is ill," said Ann. "I called there yesterday, and she is +the frailest looking woman I ever saw." + +"She's never got over the loss of her children," rejoined Everett. "It's +hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he +is." + +"Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them both!" +interjected Ann. "They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only +natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children +could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from +them in all these years?" + +"They're probably dead," replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon +them. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + + +Flea and Flukey Cronk, followed by the yellow dog, made their way +farther and farther from Ithaca. They had left the university in the +distance, when a dim streak of light warned them that day was +approaching. It was here that Flea lagged behind her brother. + +"Ye're tired, Flea," said Flukey. + +"Yep." + +"Will ye crawl into a haystack if we come to one?" + +"Yep." + +They spoke no more until, farther on, a farmhouse, with dark barns in +the rear, loomed up before them. + +"Ye wait here, Flea," said Flukey, "till I see where we can sleep." + +After an absence of a few minutes he returned and in silence conducted +the girl by a roundabout way to a newly piled stack of hay. + +"I burried a place for us both," he whispered. "Ye crawl in first, Flea, +and I'll bring in Snatchet. Lift yer leg up high and ye'll find the +hole." + +A minute later they were tucked away from the cold morning, their small +faces overshadowed by the new-mown hay, and here, through the morning +hours, they slept soundly. Then again they set forth, and it was late in +the afternoon when they drew up before the high fence encircling the +fair-grounds at Dryden. The fall fair was in full blast. Crowds were +passing in and out of the several gates. With longing heart, first Flea, +then Flukey, placed an eye to a knothole, to watch the proceedings +inside. Rows of sleek cattle waved their blue and red ribbons jauntily +in the breeze; fat pigs, with the owners' names pasted on the cards in +front, grunted in small pens. For a time the twins stood side by side, +wishing with all their might that they were possessed of the necessary +entrance-fee. + +"If I could get a job," said Flukey, "we could get in." + +"I could work, too," said Flea, her hands dug deep in her trousers +pockets. + +Just then a man hailed them. "Want to get in, Kids?" he asked. + +"Yep!" bawled Flea and Flukey in unison, their hunger forgotten in this +new delight. + +"Then help me carry in those boards, and then you can stay in." + +Flukey looked apprehensively at Flea. + +"Ye ain't a boy--" + +"Shet up!" snapped Flea. "My pants're as long as your'n, and I be a boy +till we get to the good land. Heave a board on my shoulder, Fluke." + +They slid through the opening in the fence made to pass in the lumber, +and for ten minutes aided their new friend by carrying plank after plank +into the fair-grounds. When the work was done they stood awe-stricken, +looking at the gorgeous surroundings. Flags waved aloft on each +building; yards of bunting roped in exhibits of all kinds. Everywhere +persons were walking to and fro. But still the squatter children stood +motionless and stared with wide-open eyes at such an array of good +things as had never before gladdened their sight. Then, after the +strangeness had somewhat worn off, they wandered on, bewildered. +Snatchet was hugged tight in Flukey's arms; for other dogs laid back +their ears and growled at the yellow cur. + +[Illustration: "THEN THEY COMED AN' TOOK ME AWAY FOR STEALIN'."] + +Suddenly they came upon the athletic field. Here, reared high in the +air, was a slender greased pole, on the top of which fluttered a +five-dollar bill. Several youngsters, dressed in bathing suits, awaited +the hour when they should be allowed to try and win the money. One after +another they took their turn, and when an extra spurt up the pole was +made by some lucky boy the crowd evinced its delight by loud cheers. +Time and again the breeze fluttered the coveted money, and yet no boy +had won the prize. + +"I'd like to try it," said Flukey. + +"If we couldn't get it with bathing suits, you couldn't climb that pole +with them long pants," retorted one of the contestants who stood near. +"Look! that kid's goin' to get it, after all!" There was disappointment +in the tones; but the words had no sooner died away than the climber +slipped to the ground. + +Flea pinched Flukey's arm. "Be yer knee so twisted that ye can't try, +Flukey?" + +"Nope, my rheumatiz ain't hurtin' me now." + +"Then shinny up it, Fluke--ye can climb it! Get along there!" + +She took the dog from his arms, and the boy went forward when the call +came for another aspirant. + +"I'm goin' to get that there bill!" said Flukey, shutting his teeth +firmly. + +He advanced and spoke in an undertone to a man, who, with a grin, +shouted out the name, "Mr. F. Cronk." + +The dignity of the prefix made Flukey spit upon his hands before he +started to climb the pole. Flea came closer and stood almost breathless. +Her parted lips showed small, even, white teeth, her eyes glistened, and +flashes of red blood crimsoned her face. One suspender slipping from her +shoulder, the vicious dog in her arms, the beautiful upturned face, was +as interesting a spectacle as the onlookers had ever seen. It was with +breathless interest that she watched her brother laboriously ascend the +pole. + +Flukey was indeed making a masterful climb. But at last he halted; and +then, a moment later, he climbed desperately. The girl on the ground saw +him falter, and knew that he was becoming faint-hearted. To encourage +him, she lifted a voice broken by emotion and shouted: + +"Go it, Fluke, go it!... Aw! damn it, he slid!... Go it, ole feller! Git +there, git there! Ye're almost there, Fluke--git it! It's a dinner--it's +a bone for Snatchet, and we'll eat!... Damn it! he slid again!... Aw! +hell!" + +Flukey gained the space he had lost in his last slide. Halfway up, he +began again, the men cheering and the women waving handkerchiefs. But +the boy had heard only the words from the little figure under the pole. +The five dollars did mean a good dinner, and a bone for lean Snatchet. +Up, up, and still up, until his fingers grasped the pole very near the +top. + +There he rested for breath. For a few seconds his head drooped on his +shoulders, and absolute quiet reigned below. His slender legs encircled +the pole, and finally, with a painful effort, he lifted out the pin +stuck in the bill, grasped the money in his fingers, and instantly slid +to the ground. Laughs and cheers roared into the air. Flea had backed +away from the pole, still holding the small dog; but, before she could +get to Flukey, other boys were surrounding him, asking how he had done +it. + + * * * * * + +A sudden shouting came from hundreds of throats. One voice raised above +the clamor: + +"Anyone catching the greased pig, Squeaky, can have him. He's a fine +roaster! After him, Boys!" + +Over a knoll, his tiny nose swaying in the air, and four short legs +kicking the dust into clouds, skurried a small pig, coated from head to +tail with lard. Deftly he slipped for his life through many youthful +hands stretched out to grasp him, and time and again he wriggled from +under a small boy crouched to stop his progress. He passed the +danger-mark, and in the new stretch of ground, where the spectators were +standing, discerned a chance to escape. + +Flea saw him coming and could detect the terror in the flying little +beast. Her heart leaped up in answer to the call from something in +distress--something she loved, loved because it lived and suffered +through terrible fear. She dropped Snatchet and caught the greased pig +in her arms. She hugged him up to her breast and, turning flashing eyes +upon the people staring at her, said: + +"Poor little baby piggy! He's scared almost to death." + +"You've caught the greased pig!" somebody shouted. "You can have +him--he's yours!" + +"Ye mean mine to keep?" Flea demanded of the man who had cheered on the +boys. + +"Yes, to keep," was the reply, "and this five-dollar gold-piece because +you caught him." + +"I didn't try to catch him," she said simply. "He jest comed to me +'cause he were so afeard. His little heart's a beatin' like as if he's +goin' to die. I'll keep him, and I thank ye for the money.... Golly! but +ain't me and Flukey two rich kids? Where's Fluke?" + +Just then somebody stepped up behind the girl and touched her on the +arm. Flea turned her head and found herself gazing into the kindly eyes +and earnest face of her prince. + +Instantly she lost all thought of her brother and Snatchet. The voice +she had dreamed of was speaking. + +"Little boy," it said, "I've purchased every year the greased pig of the +youngster who caught him. May I buy him of you? I'll give you another +gold-piece for him." + +Words stuck in Flea's throat, and she only clung closer to the suckling. +At last she murmured, "What do ye want with him?" + +The man threw back his head and laughed. "Why, to eat him, of course. We +always have roast pig for dinner the day after the fair." + +Flea dug her toe into the dust and flung up a cloud of it, as her face +drew into a sulky frown. "Well," she drawled, "ye don't hog down this +'un! He's mine!" + +"But the money, Boy! Don't you want the money?" + +Her heart was beating so fast that she dared not lift her eyes again to +his. Then a lady spoke in a soft voice, and Flea glanced at her. + +"This is Mr. Horace Shellington," she said, "and if he did not have the +pig he would be disappointed. You'll let him buy it, won't you?" + +Flea looked into the questioning face of her prince, the face of her +dreams, looked again into his smiling eyes, and stood hesitant. Her +thoughts flew fast. She remembered the terrified pig, how she had pitied +him, and how much he wanted to live, to frisk in the sunshine. She +thought of the cruel knife that would reach the tiny heart tapping +against her own, and threw back her head in defiance. + +"Ye may have e't all the greased pigs in this here country," she said to +Shellington; "but ye don't eat this 'un! Ye see, this 'un's mine, and +he's goin' to live, eat, and be happy, that's all!" Although she had +spoken emphatically, her eyes dropped again before the keen gaze bent +upon her. To relieve her embarrassment, she turned and shouted, "Flukey, +Flukey, come along! Where's Snatchet?" + +So great had been Flea's excitement at the catching of the pig that she +had given no heed to the dog. Flukey had handed the little fellow to +her, and she had let him go. + +Suddenly an appalling spectacle rose before her. On an elevated spot, a +few feet from the greased pole, Snatchet stood poised in view of +hundreds of curious eyes. His short stubby tail had straightened out +like a stick. His nose was lowered almost to the ground. Each yellow +hair on his scarred back had risen separate and apart from one another, +while his beady eyes glistened greedily. Directly in front of him, +staring back with feathers ruffled and drooping wings, was a little +brown hen, escaped from her coop. She was eying Snatchet impudently, +daring him to approach her by perking her wee head saucily first on one +side and then on the other. Snatchet, pressed on by hunger beating at +his lean sides, slid rigidly a pace nearer. A cry went up from a +childish voice. + +"He'll kill my Queen Bess! Father--Oh! Father!" + +Flukey's voice, calling to his dog, rose high above the clamor. Suddenly +the little hen turned tail and flew across over the soft earth, uttering +frightened cackles; but her flight was slow compared to Snatchet's. He +came scurrying behind her, snapping a tail feather loose with each +onward bound, utterly oblivious of the two strong voices calling his +name. + +The little hen wove a precarious path through coops of chattering +chickens, and Snatchet, bent upon his prey, added to the din. He had no +way of knowing the twists and turns to be taken by his small brown +victim, and it was only by making sharp corners that Queen Bess kept +clear of the snapping teeth. Men were running to and fro for something +to beat off the yellow invader. The girl's voice had settled to a cry, +and, just as Flukey, panting and tired, reached the dog, Snatchet +snapped up the hen, shook her fiercely, and settled down to his meal. In +an instant Flukey had dragged the beating body from his teeth, kicked +him soundly with his bare foot, and held out the dead hen to a man whose +face was darkened by anger. The young mistress of the feathered queen +was clinging, sobbing, to his hand. + +"Is that your dog?" Flea heard the man ask, pointing to Snatchet under +the squatter boy's arm. + +"Yep." + +"Do you understand that he killed my little girl's prize hen?" + +"The dog ought to die, too!" cried a voice from the people. + +Her brother's sorrowful attitude made Flea press Flukey's arm +soothingly. + +"So he ought to die!" said another. + +"He were hungry," explained Flukey, turning on Snatchet's accuser. +"Mister, if ye'll let my dorg live--" + +Before he could finish the child had interrupted him. "That dog ought to +die for killing my Bess!" + +Flea pushed past Flukey and stood before the little girl. "Kid, I don't +blame ye for cryin' for yer hen," she began; "but my brother ain't got +no dog but Snatchet, an' if ye'll let him live I'll give ye this bit of +gold I got for catchin' the pig." + +A murmur followed her words, and the tears dried in the blue eyes +looking up at her. + +"Here little 'un, chuck it in yer pocket," said Flea, straightening her +shoulders, "and it'll buy another hen." + +So the jury which had sat for a moment upon the precious life of +Snatchet brought in a verdict of "not guilty," and the squatter children +turned to find something to eat for the quartet of empty stomachs. Out +of sight of Dryden, they sat down beside the road, and Flea looked the +pig over. + +"Ye has to tie a piece of cord to his leg, Kid," cautioned Flukey; +"'cause he'll get away if ye don't. Ain't he fine?" + +"The finest pig in this here world," responded Flea. "Ye ain't got no +rag what'll wipe off some of this grease, have ye, Fluke?" + +"Nope; but ye can scrape it off with a stick or a rock. Here, ye hold +him tight while I dig at him." + +For about twenty minutes they busied themselves with cleaning the +suckling, laughing at his wriggles and squeaks. + +"What'll we call him?" asked Flea. + +"Squeaky," said Flukey, "that's what the man called out." + +"Aw, that ain't nice enough for me! I'll call him Prince, and ye call +him Squeaky--Prince Squeaky," she ended, knotting the cord Flukey had +given her about the short hind leg of the animal. + +"And we be rich," she declared later, "'most five dollars, a pig, and +Snatchet, and yer leg's well. It don't hurt a bit, do it?" + +"Nope, not now; but when I were at the top of that pole I got a damn +good twist. It's better now." + +"Then let's mog along," said Flea, "'cause we can eat all we want, now +we got money." + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + + +For two weeks Flea and Flukey lived on the fat of the land. The country +afforded them haystacks, and the brooks, clear water. The children were +never happier than when Squeaky's nose was hidden in a tin can of +buttermilk, and the precious five dollars bought countless numbers of +currant buns, sugar cakes, and penny bones for Snatchet. Now Flukey +lifted his head proudly and walked with the air of a boy on the road to +fortune, and Flea kept at his side with the prince hugged close in her +arms. Through the long stretch of houseless roads Snatchet was allowed +to rove at will, and Flukey relieved his sister of her burden. By the +third day out toward the promised land the two little animals had become +firm friends, and the queer quartet walked on and on, as straight as the +crow flies, through the valleys and over the hills, wading the creeks +and ferrying the rivers, until they awoke one morning without money or +breakfast. The warm hay at night, much sunshine, and the absence of rain +had reduced the swollen joint in Flukey's knee to normal size; but that +day, as they trudged along, Flea noticed that he limped more than at any +time during their journey from Tompkins County. Even now, with hunger +staring wolf-eyed at them, there was no desire to return to Ithaca, no +thought of renewing their life in the squatter's settlement; for, +unknown to themselves, they were being swept on by a common destiny. + +"Ye're gettin' lame again," said Flea after awhile, the mother-feeling +in her making her watch Flukey with concern. "Last night a-laying' in +the field didn't do ye any good. Let me lug Prince Squeaky." + +Without remonstrance, the boy surrendered the wriggling burden, and they +started out once more. + +"I wish we could find a nice, warm haystack," Flea commented; "it'd warm +up yer bones. Will we get to one, Fluke, after awhile?" + +"Nope, 'cause we're comin' to a big city." + +As he spoke, he motioned to where Tarrytown lay on the banks of the +Hudson River, several miles distant. Then they were silent a time; for +each young life was busy with the tragedy of living. Just what they +would do for a place to sleep Flea could not tell, since under the +compact made in the rock-cavern they would steal no more. + +In the gathering twilight the two came upon the cemetery of Sleepy +Hollow, and here, tired, hungry, and despondent, they sat down to rest. + +"It's gettin' night," said Flukey drearily. "I wonder where we'll +sleep?" + +"Can't we squirm in this dead man's yard 'thout nobody seein' us?" asked +Flea, casting her eyes over the graves. "Ye can't walk no more tonight. +I ain't hungry, anyhow." + +"Ye lie, Flea!" moaned Flukey. "Yer belly's as empty as Squeaky's or +Snatchet's. I've got to get ye somethin' to eat." + +Nevertheless, without resistance, he allowed her to help him through the +large gate, and they struck off into the older part of the cemetery. All +through the night they lay dozing in the presence of the dead, Squeaky +tied by the leg to a tree, and Snatchet snuggled warmly between the two +children. The dawning of day brought Flukey new anguish; for both knees +were swollen, and he groaned as he turned over. + +Flea was up instantly. "Be ye sick?" + +"Only the twist in my legs. I wish it wasn't so cold. If the sun would +only get warm!" + +"We'll get to the good land today, Fluke," soothed Flea, "and ye can eat +all ye want, and sleep with a pile of covers on--as big--as big as that +there vault yonder." + +"But we ain't in the good land yet, Flea," groaned Flukey, "and we're +all hungry. I wish I could 'arn a nickel. If ye didn't love the pig so +much, Flea, we could sell him. He's a growin' thinner and thinner every +minute, and Snatchet be that starvin' he could eat another mut bigger'n +himself." + +The girl made no answer to this, but tucked Squeaky's pink nose under +the blue-shirted arm and sat mute. + +Flukey, encouraged, went on. "Nobody'd buy Snatchet--he's only a poor, +damn, shiverin' cuss." + +"If we selled Prince Squeaky, some'un'd eat him," mourned Flea. "He +ain't goin' to be e't, I says!" + +So forceful were her tones that Flukey offered no more suggestions; but +stared miserably at the sun as it rose up from the east, dispersing the +cold, gray morning fog. Presently Flea stood up and said decisively: + +"We've got to eat. Ye stay here while I hunt for somethin'." + +She darted away before Flukey could remonstrate. For a long time the boy +lay on the damp ground, his face drawn awry with pain, watching the +wagons going back and forth on the road below. The pangs of hunger and +the night of rheumatism had told upon his young strength. His mind went +back to the hut on Cayuga Lake, and he thought of how when their absence +had been discovered Granny Cronk had cried a little, and how Pappy Lon +had cursed and grown more silent than ever. The tender heart of the sick +boy yearned toward the old squatter woman, who had been the only mother +he and Flea had ever known. In his loneliness he stroked Squeaky on the +snout and muttered tender words to the lean dog lying under his lame +leg. After a short time he saw Flea, with a small bundle in her hand, +picking her way among the graves. Flukey lay perfectly quiet until his +sister offered him a bun. + +"I could only buy four, 'cause I only had a nickel." + +"Give Squeaky and Snatchet one, will ye, Flea?" ventured Flukey. + +"Yep. I said, when I buyed 'em, there'd be one apiece." + +"Somethin' has made ye pale, Flea," said Flukey after each of the four +had devoured breakfast. "Ye didn't--" + +"I see Lem Crabbe's scow down by the river." + +Flukey uttered an exclamation and sat up with a groan. "He's comin' +after ye, Kid," he breathed desperately. + +"Nope, he ain't," assured Flea; "he's takin' lumber down to New York. +And he didn't see me. And we'll stay in this here graveyard till he's +gone. He's waitin' for the steam tug to come. I guess he poled from +Albany down when he couldn't use his mules." + +"Were Pappy Lon with him?" asked Flukey, drawing up his knees. + +"I dunno; I didn't wait to see. I had to 'arn this nickel." + +"Ye didn't steal it, Flea?" + +"Nope; I had it give to me for holdin' a horse. Ye believe me, Fluke?" + +"Yep, I believe ye. And ye say as how we can't go on now to the good +land? We has to stay here?" + +"For awhile," replied Flea. "When Lem Crabbe goes to New York, then we +go, too." + + * * * * * + +While hundreds of birds made ready for a long night in the elm trees, +the twins turned silent. Flukey lay with his eyes closed in pain. The +girl broke the quietude now and then by muttering softly the names on +the gravestones over which her eyes roved: + + "EVERETT BRIMBECOMB + ONE YEAR OLD + BELOVED SON OF AGNES AND HAROLD BRIMBECOMB. + RESTING IN JESUS" + +Flea read this over several times, and turned to Flukey. + +"Who's Jesus, Fluke?" she asked. + +The boy raised his head and opened his eyes languidly. "What? What'd ye +say, Flea?" + +"Who's Jesus?" she asked again, pointing to the inscription on the +stone. + +"I dunno. I guess he's some old feller layin' down in there with that +kid." + +Thus the day had passed and the night fell. Flukey dropped into a deep +sleep, and Flea, huddling to the cold earth, settled closer to her +brother in the sheltering darkness. Suddenly the girl aroused as if from +a bad dream. She sat up, feeling for the pig and Snatchet, and placed +her hand on Flukey's quiet body and lay down. Once more came the sound. +It was the faint, distant hoot of an owl, stealing out through the tall +trees. Nearer and nearer it came, until Flea sat bolt upright. Instantly +into her mind shot the picture of a shriveled woman from the squatter +country. A cold perspiration broke over her. + +She turned her head slowly and looked off into the dark end of the +cemetery, over which hung a mist. Through this veil the pale moon +watched the earth with steady gaze. From among the monuments and +time-scarred headstones, looming darkly in the forbidding silence, an +apparition arose, and to Flea's vivid imagination it seemed as if +voiceless gray ghosts were peopling God's Acre on all sides. She +recoiled in horror as the strange, wild cry drew nearer. + +A hysterical sensation burning in her throat tightened it so she could +not speak to Flukey, nor could she drag her eyes from the thing moving +toward her. Snatchet growled; but Flea pressed his jaws together with a +snap, and the sound died in his throat. Squeaky moved slightly among the +dead leaves, then became quiet again. The phantom-like figure passed +almost near enough to touch the rigid girl. Its lips opened, and a +hoarse, owl-like cry aroused the sleepy birds above. + +"It's Screechy!" murmured Flea, dropping back in fear. "She's come +seekin' Flukey and me! The bats be flyin' in her head!" + +Screech Owl, ignorant of the children's proximity, went straight on, +gliding over the graves until she stopped before the stone mansion at +the edge of the graveyard. A light shone from the room, and the woman +stole directly under it. A tall, handsome young man, his gaze centered +thoughtfully upon the dark aspect, stood in the window. Flea saw +Screechy hold out her arms toward him with an appealing gesture. He +lifted his hand suddenly and drew down the shade, and his broad +shoulders were silhouetted against it in sharp, black lines. After that +the breathless girl saw the woman turn and stumble past her without a +sound. + +"The bats left her head the minute that there winder got dark!" gasped +the watcher. Tremblingly she drew closer to Flukey, until sleep +overpowered her. + + * * * * * + +The next day passed slowly, the cold rain lasting until almost +nightfall, and yet the children dared not venture into the town. Flea +fumed and fretted; for the earning of the nickel had whetted her +ambition to earn more. Now she dared not go near the river where work +could be found; but she knew that as soon as the tug appeared Lem +Crabbe would go to New York. Probably by this time the scow was far on +its way down the river. This was the decision at which the squatter +twins arrived after weary hours of waiting. So, when the twilight again +fell over the dead, they rose stiffly from their hiding place and limped +to the road. + +"We'll go back to the graveyard tonight, if this ain't the good land," +murmured Flea. "We'll be safe there from Lem, Fluke." + +"Wish we was rich like we was that fair-day, Flea," replied the boy, +scarcely able to walk. + +"I wish so, too. If we had that yeller gold-piece we coughed up for that +damn brown hen, we'd eat. But I'd ruther have Snatchet, Fluke." + +"I'd ruther have him, too; but we need money--" + +"And when we get it," interrupted Flea, "Snatchet'll have a hunk of +meat, and Prince Squeaky a bucket of buttermilk, and ye'll have liniment +for yer legs, Fluke." + +"Ye'll eat yerself first, Flea," said Flukey. "I saw ye when ye give the +pig a bit of yer biscuit yesterday mornin'." + +"We'll all eat in the good land," replied Flea hopefully. + +By this time they had come to the gateway and turned into the street. +Harold Brimbecomb's beautiful home was brilliantly lighted. It appeared +the same to Flea as on the night before, when she had seen Scraggy make +her melancholy play before it. + +Flea had refrained from speaking of her midnight fright to Flukey; for +he would but tell her that, like all girls, she was afraid, and a slur +from her brother was more than she could bear. + +Flea and Flukey had never been taught to pray, "Lead us not into +temptation." Now, with aching hearts and empty stomachs, they turned in +silence to the richly lighted houses. Flukey dragged himself resolutely +past Brimbecomb's as if he would avoid the desire that suddenly pressed +upon him to ply the trade in which he had been darkly instructed. But he +halted abruptly before the next house, the curtains of which were pulled +up halfway. The long windows reached to the porch floor. Through the +clear glass the children saw a table dressed in all the gorgeousness of +silver and crystal. At the spectacle a clamor for food set up in both +aching stomachs, and the two passed as if by one accord to the porch. As +they peered into the window with longing eyes, Squeaky was held tightly +under Flea's arm; but Snatchet, resting wearily on Flukey's, suddenly +sat up. He, too, had scented something to eat, and thrust in and out a +lean red tongue over pointed, tusky teeth. + +"It's time for me to steal, Flea," whispered Flukey, turning feverish +eyes toward his sister. + +"If you do it, Flukey, I'll do it with ye." + +With no more ado, Flukey's practiced fingers silently slid up the sash. +Two youthful bodies stepped through: the opening. In absolute quiet, +they stood raggedly forlorn, savagely hungry, before the tempting table. +There, was plenty to eat; so without a word the squatter girl placed +Squeaky before a glass dish of salad. His small pink nose buried its tip +from sight, and the food disappeared into the suckling's empty stomach. +Snatchet, squatting on his haunches, snapped up a stuffed bird. Flea +began to eat; but Flukey, now too ill, leaned against the red-papered +wall. + +Just at this critical moment the door opened, and Flea, greatly +frightened, started back to the window. She blinked, brushed a dark curl +from her eyes, and saw her Prince advancing toward her. He saw her, too; +but did not connect her with the bare-footed girl on Cayuga Lake, but +only with the boy who had kept from him the greased pig at the Dryden +fair. He glanced at Squeaky calmly eating the salad and smiled. + +"Bless my soul, Ann!" he said, turning to a lady who had followed him +in, "we have company to dinner, or my name isn't Horace Shellington! Why +didn't you young gentlemen wait, and we should all have been seated +together?" + +There was a whirling in Flukey's head, such as he had never felt before; +but Flea's ashen face brought back his scattered senses. He tried to +lift his arm to throw it about her; but dropped it with a groan. +Realizing the agony that had swept over her dear one, Flea gathered in a +deep breath and took his fevered hand in hers. + +"It weren't him," she cried, lifting her eyes to her questioner and +sullenly moving her head toward the shivering boy at her side. "I e't +yer victuals--he didn't. If one of us goes to jail, I do--see?" + +"Let me think," ruminated Horace, eying her gravely. "Six months is +about the shortest sentence given to a fellow for breaking into a house. +And what about the pig? I see him in the act of theft. Shall he go with +you?" + +"He were hungry, that's why Prince Squeaky stealed," exclaimed Flea, +dropping Flukey's fingers. There was something in the kindly eyes of the +man that forced her forward a step. She thrust out her hand in appealing +anxiety. "We was all hungry," she continued, a dry sob strangling her. +"Flukey nor me nor the pig nor Snatchet ain't e't in a long time. We did +steal; but if I knowed it were yer house--" + +A quizzical expression flashing into Shellington's eyes stopped her +words. + +"You wouldn't have come in?" he queried. + +Flea nodded just as Snatchet jumped to the floor with another plump +bird between his teeth. Flukey staggered to his sister's side. + +"Let me tell ye how it was, Mister," he begged, his eyes bloodshot and +restless. "We be lookin' for a good land where boys don't have to steal, +and when they get sick they get well again." + +Here Flea burst forth impetuously. + +"He has such hellish rheumatiz that he can't set in no dark prison. I +can set weeks among rats and bugs what be in all prisons! I ain't afraid +of nothing what lives!" + +Flukey interrupted her by taking her arm and pushing her back a little. + +"I'm a thief by trade," he said; "but my sister ain't. She ain't never +stole nothin' in all her life, she ain't. Take me, will ye, Mister?" + +"Sister!" murmured the gentleman, turning to Flea. + +If nothing else had been said, the question would have been answered in +the affirmative by the vivid blush that dyed Flea's dark skin. Her +embarrassment brought another exclamation from Flukey. + +"She's a girl, all right! She's only tryin' to save me. She put on my +pants jest to get away from Pappy Lon. I'll go to jail; but don't send +her!" + +He swayed blindly, closing his eyes with a moan. + +"The child is sick, Horace," said Ann. "I think he is very sick." + +"Where did you sleep last night?" Shellington asked this of Flea. + +"Out there," answered the girl, pointing over her shoulder, "down by a +big monument." + +"Horace Shellington," gasped Ann, "they slept in the cemetery!" + +The sharp tone of the girl's voice brought Flukey back to the present. + +"We run away 'cause Pappy Lon were a makin' me steal when I didn't want +to," he explained, clearing his throat, "and he was goin' to make Flea +be Lem's woman. And that's the truth, Mister, and Lem wasn't goin' to +marry her, nuther!" + +He rambled on in a monotone as if too sick for inflection. Flea placed +one arm about his neck. + +"I'm a girl! I'm Flea Cronk!" she confessed brokenly. "And Flukey's +doin' all this for me! And he's so sick! I stealed from yer table--he +didn't! Will ye let him lay in yer barn tonight, if I go up for the +stealin'?" + +Never had Horace Shellington felt so keenly the sorrows of other human +beings as when this girl, in her crude boy clothes, lifted her agonized, +tearless eyes to his. His throat filled. Somehow, his whole soul went +out to her, his being stirred to its depths. He put out one hand to +touch Flea--when voices from the inner room stopped further speech. A +light step, accompanied by a heavier one, approaching the dining-hall, +brought his thoughts together. + +"Ann," he appealed, stepping to his sister's side, "you're always +wanting to do something for me--do it now. Let me settle this!" + +Speaking to Flukey, he said, "Pick up your dog, Boy!" + +"And the pig from the table!" groaned Ann distractedly. + + * * * * * + +Flukey mechanically stooped to obey, while Flea captured Squeaky and +tucked the suckling under her arm just as Shellington opened the door to +admit his guests. When Flea lifted her embarrassed gaze to the +strangers, she saw the same face that had peered at her over Horace's +shoulder at the Dryden fair, the face to which Screech Owl had made her +silent appeal. A graceful girl followed, whose eyes expressed +astonishment as Horace spoke. + +"These are my young friends, you will remember, Everett, from the fair, +Flea and Flukey Cronk." Turning his misty eyes upon the children he +continued, "This is Mr. Brimbecomb, and Miss Katherine Vandecar, +Governor Vandecar's niece." + +He went through this introduction to gain control of his feelings. + +"They have changed their minds, Everett, and have brought me the pig," +he exclaimed. "It was kind of you, child!" + +He had almost said "boy"; but, remembering the admission Flea had made, +he gazed straight at her, watching with growing interest the changes +that passed over the young face. + +"You see," he hurried on nervously, "they found out where I lived, and +thought I might still want the pig--" + +Ann Shellington admonishingly touched her brother's arm. "Horace!" she +urged; but he stopped her with a gesture. + +"I think it mighty nice of them to come all the way from Dryden with a +pig--on my soul, I do, Ann!" + +Taking a silver case from his pocket, he extracted a cigarette from it, +while directing his attention to Flea. + +"I want it now as much as I did then; but I don't believe that I shall +ever roast and eat him." + +Flea searched the speaker's face fearfully, her eyes lustrous with +melting tenderness. He had promised her that Squeaky should live; but +was he going to send Flukey away? It was slow torture, this waiting for +his verdict, each second measured full to the brim, each minute more +agonizing than the last. + +Horace Shellington was speaking again. "You see, Katherine," he said, +turning to the younger girl, "I know this puzzles you; but these two +youngsters won the pig at the fair, and I tried to buy it of them for a +roast. Just at that time this little--chap--" he motioned toward Flea, +"didn't want to part with it. He's changed his mind. You see the pig is +here." + +Miss Shellington did not supplement her brother's statement; but the +tall stranger with the brilliant eyes gazed dubiously at the table and +then down into Flea's face. + +"I'll bet my hat," he said in a tone deep and rich, "that you boys have +been thieving!" + +Before the frightened girl could respond, the master of the house +stepped between them; but not before Flea had caught an expression that +took her back to Screech Owl's hut. + +"For shame, Everett!" chided Horace. "I have just told you that they +were trying to do me a favor. The pig has come a long way, and I gave +him some--salad. There's plenty more in the larder." + +It was hard for Horace Shellington to lie flagrantly, and his +explanation sounded forced. The music in his voice pierced the childish +lethargy of Flea's soul, awakening it to womanhood. Intuition told her +that he had lied for her sake. + +"And you gave him the birds, too?" Everett asked sneeringly, glancing at +the scattered bones. + +"No, I gave the dog the birds," replied Horace simply. "It seemed," he +proceeded slowly, "that just at that moment I felt for the hungry dog +and pig more than I did for my guests." + +He had backed to his sister's side with an imploring glance, and allowed +his hand to rest lightly on hers. She understood his message, and met +his appeal. + +"And now these young people have been so good to us," she said, "we +ought to repay them with a good supper. If you will come with me, Boys, +you shall have what you need.... Oh! Yes, you can bring both the dog and +the pig." + +A tranquil smile, sweet and pathetic, erased the pain-wrinkles from +Flukey's face. Supper at last for his dear ones! + +Ann held out her hand to him, and dazedly the sick lad took it in his +hot fingers. Then, remembering Everett's disapprobation of the boys, she +glanced into his face; but, meeting a studiously indifferent, slightly +bored look, she led Flukey away. + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + + +Flukey was too ill, as he stumbled along, to dread the outcome of their +act of theft. He realized only that a beautiful lady was leading Flea to +a place where her hunger could be satisfied, and, as he felt the warmth +of Ann's fingers permeate his own famished body, a great courage urged +him forward. He would never again steal at Lon's command, and Flea would +have to dread Lem no more! Something infinitely sweet, like new-coming +life, entered his soul. It was the first exquisite joy that had come to +Flukey Cronk. He stopped and disengaged his hand, to press it to his +side as a pain made him gasp for breath. Then of a sudden he sank to the +polished floor, still clinging to Snatchet. + +"Missus," he muttered, "I can't walk no more. Jest ye leave me here and +git the grub for Flea." + +Flea turned sharply. "I don't eat when ye're sick, Fluke. The Prince +says as how ye can sleep in the barn, and mebbe--mebbe he'll let me work +for the victuals Snatchet and Squeaky stole." + +Flea added this hopefully. + +"Children," said Ann in a smothered voice, "listen to me! You're both +welcome to all you've had, and more. The little dog and pig were welcome +too." + +Tears rose under her lids, and she turned her head away, that the twins +might not see them. Ann Shellington, like her brother, had never before +seen human misery depicted in small lives. At the mention of his dog, +Flukey opened his eyes and turned his gaze upward. + +"Thank ye, Lady," said he, "thank ye for what ye said about Snatchet. +Ain't he a pink peach of a dorg, Ma'm?" + +Ann inclined her head gently, glancing dubiously over the yellow pup. +She could not openly admit that Snatchet resembled anything beautiful +she had ever seen, when the boy, his lips twitching with agony, held his +pet up toward her. + +"Ye can take him, Ma'm," groaned Flukey. "He only bites bad 'uns like +Lem Crabbe." + +Snatchet, feeling the importance of the moment, lifted his head and shot +forth a slavering tongue. As it came in contact with her fingers, Miss +Shellington drew back a little. She had been used to slender-limbed, +soft-coated dogs; this small, shivering mongrel, touching her flesh with +a tongue roughly beaded, sent a tremor of disgust over her. Flea stepped +forward, took Snatchet from her brother, and tucked him away under the +arm opposite the one Squeaky occupied. + +"Ye'll go to the barn, Fluke," she said, "and ye'll go damn quick! The +lady'll let ye, and Snatchet'll go with ye. Squeaky sleeps with me." + +Ann coughed embarrassedly. "Children," she began, "we couldn't let the +dog and pig sleep in the house; neither could we allow you to sleep in +the barn. So, if you will let the coachman take your pets, I'll see that +you, Boy, go into a warm bed, and you," Ann turned to Flea, "must have +some supper and other clothes. Your brother is very ill, I believe, and +I think we ought to have a doctor." + +Flea pricked up her ears, and a sad smile crossed her lips. "Ye mean, +Ma'm," said she, "that Flukey can sleep in a real bed and have doctor's +liniments for his bones?" + +Ann nodded. "Yes. Now then hurry!... Look at that poor little boy!" + +Flukey was on his knees, leaning against the wall, his feverish fingers +clutching his curls. + +"Horace! Horace!" called Ann. + +Shellington opened the dining-room door and went out hurriedly, leaving +Everett Brimbecomb and Katherine Vandecar still surveying the +disarranged table. + +"It all seems strange to me, Katherine; I mean--this," said Everett, +waving his hand. "I scarcely believed Horace when he said he had allowed +it." + +As he spoke, he approached the table and lifted the soiled cloth between +his fingers. + +"You can see for yourself," he said, "the marks of the pig's feet on the +linen." + +Katherine examined the spots. "But it really doesn't matter, does it?" +she said. "The poor little animals were hungry, and Horace has such a +big heart!" and she sighed. + +Everett made an angry gesture. "But I object to Ann having anything to +do with such--" he hesitated and finished, "such youngsters. There's no +need of it." + +"Oh, Everett--but those two children must be cared for! Horace will come +back in a few minutes, and then we'll know all about it." + +"In the meantime I'm hungry," grumbled Everett, "and if we're going to +the theater--" + +He had no time to finish his sentence before Horace, with a grave +countenance, opened the door. + +"I'm sorry, Katherine," he apologized, and then stopped; for he noticed +Everett's face dark with anger. Shellington did not forget that his +friends had come to dinner; but he had just witnessed a scene that had +touched his heart, and he determined to make both of his guests +understand it also. + +[Illustration: "I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS--AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I +BE."] + +"The evening has turned out differently from what Ann and I expected," +he explained. "The fact is that sister can't go to the theater, and I +feel that I ought to stay with her. So, we'll order another dinner, and +then, Everett, if you and Katherine don't--" His fingers had touched +the bell as he was speaking; but Everett stopped him. + +"If the boy is too ill to be taken to a hospital," he said coldly, "Ann +might be persuaded to leave him with the servants." + +"Yes, I suggested that," answered Horace; "but she refused. The boy has +somehow won her heart, and the doctor will be here at any moment." + +A servant appeared, and in a half-hour the table was spread with another +dinner. Ann's coming to the dining-room did not raise the spirits of the +party; for her eyes were red from weeping, and she refused to eat. + +"I've never known before, Everett," she said, "that children could +suffer as that little boy does." + +"And you shouldn't know it now, Ann, if I had my way," objected +Brimbecomb. "There's a strong line drawn between their kind and ours, +and places have been provided for such people. I really want you to come +with us tonight." + +In sharp astonishment, Ann turned on him. + +"Oh, I really couldn't, Everett!" she said, beginning to sob. "I +shouldn't enjoy one moment of the time, while thinking of that poor +child. You take Katherine, and say to Governor and Mrs. Vandecar that we +couldn't come tonight. Tell them about it or not as you please. They are +both good and kind, and will understand." + +Her tears had ceased during the latter part of her speech; for the frown +had deepened on Everett's brow, bringing determination to her own. Never +before had she been forced to exercise her wish above his, and +Brimbecomb was not prepared for it. Something new had been born in the +large, sad eyes turned to his, something he did not comprehend, and he +inwardly cursed the squatter children. + +At eight o'clock Everett handed Katherine into the carriage and gloomily +took his place beside her. They were late at the theater by several +minutes, when he brushed aside the curtain and ushered Miss Vandecar +into the Governor's box. Mrs. Vandecar was seated in the far corner, her +attention directed upon the play. Vandecar rose quietly, and before +resuming his seat waited until his niece had taken her place. Then they +were silent until the curtain fell after the first act. + +"Where are Horace and Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar of Everett. "Ann +telephoned me at dinner-time that she would be here." + +Everett inclined his head toward Katherine, and the girl explained the +situation. When she had added pathos to the story by telling of Flukey's +illness, Mrs. Vandecar broke in. + +"I'm glad Ann stayed, dear girl! It's like her to nurse that sick +child." She said no more; but turned away with misty eyes. + +During the next act the Governor drew near her, and amid the shadows of +the darkened box, took up the slender fingers and held them until the +lights flashed upon the falling curtain. Both had gone back in memory to +those dreadful days when tragedy had cast its somber shadows over them. + + * * * * * + +The doctor had predicted a serious illness for Flukey. Ann and Horace +held an earnest conversation about it. Miss Shellington's maid had been +instructed to relieve Flea of her boy's attire and clothe her in some of +Ann's garments. Horace led his sister to the room where Flukey lay, and +suggested that Flea be called. + +A servant appeared at the touch of the bell. + +"Tell the boy's sister to come here," said Horace. + +When Flea knocked at the door a few minutes later, he bade her enter. +Suppressing her pleasure and surprise at the girl's loveliness, Ann +walked forward to meet her; but the little stranger backed timidly +against the door and flashed a blushing glance at the man. + +The mauve dressing-gown, reaching to the floor, displayed to advantage +the girl's lithe figure, accentuating its long, graceful lines. The +bodice, opened at the neck, exposed the slender white throat, around +which the summer's sun had tanned a ruddy ring. Her hair had been parted +in the center and twined in adorable curls about the young head. + +The transformation drew an untactful ejaculation from Horace, and he +stared intently at the sensitive face. Flea's gray eyes, after the first +hasty glance at him, sought Flukey. + +"Flukey ain't so awful sick, be he?" she questioned fearfully. + +Ann passed an arm tenderly around her. "Yes, child, he is very ill. My +brother and I want to speak to you about him." + +"But he ain't goin' dead?" + +Her tone brought Horace nearer. In spite of Flea's somberness, the +bouyancy of her youth obliterated the memory of every other girl he +knew. He was confounded by the thought that a short time before she had +stood as a ragged boy before him. She had been transformed into +womanhood by Ann's clothing. + +Flea bent over Flukey and hid her face. Even when Horace had discovered +the pig in the salad, her embarrassment had been of small moment to +this. After an instant, she lifted her eyes from her muttering brother +and allowed them to fall upon her Prince. There was an unmistakable +smile upon his lips; nevertheless, a great fear possessed her. If Flukey +were allowed to stay there because of his illness, she at least would be +taken away; for she had never heard of a theft being entirely +overlooked, and she believed that her imprisonment must be the penalty. + +She stooped a little and lovingly touched Flukey's shoulder, looking +first at Ann, then at Horace. Straightening up, she burst out: + +"Mister, if ye're goin' to have me pinched for stealin', do it quick +before my brother knows about it, and--I'd ruther go to prison in +Fluke's pants--please!" + +Still the master of the house did not speak. Flea was filled with +suspicion, and thought she divined the cause of his quietness and smile. +He was ridiculing her dress, perhaps making sport of the way her curls +were arranged. She thrust one hand upward and tumbled the mass of hair +into disorder. + +"Yer woman put these togs onto me," she said, "and I feel like an old +guy--dressed up this way!" + +Anger forced tears into her eyes, and her two small brown hands clenched +under the hanging lace at her wrists. Her words and the spontaneous +action deepened the expression on the face of the silent man, and she +cried out again: + +"Ye needn't be making fun of me, Mister! I can't help how I look." + +But a feverish exclamation from the sick boy so increased her anxiety +for him that her own troubles were overwhelmed. She was rendered +unmindful that Ann had softly called her name; nor did she realize that +Shellington had spoken quietly to her. + +She flung out her hands in eloquent appeal. + +"Oh, I thank ye for covering my brother up so warm! He didn't need no +sheets nor piller-slips; but his bones did need the blankets--sure. I +say as how he'd thank ye, too, if he weren't offen his head." + +Horace gently took the girl's hands in his, and Flea lowered her +sun-browned face. + +"I know he would, child," he said in moved tones. "He's more than +welcome to all we can do--and you are to stay here, too, little girl." + +Horace had done what Ann had been unable to do. The words had soothed +the squatter girl, and the savage young heart was softened. The long, +dreary country marches were over; the cold nights and bare fields were +things of the past. For Flukey, there were tender hands that would ease +his pain; for her, a home unmenaced by Lem. She had looked her last upon +horrors that had bound her to a life she hated. + +Shellington spoke to her. + +"Look at me, child!" said he. "I want to tell you what the doctor said." + +She lifted an anxious gaze filled with the emotion of a woman's soul. It +was her dawning womanhood that Horace saw, and toward it his manhood was +unconsciously drawn. + +Ann spoke quietly: + +"The doctor says that your brother will be ill many weeks, and we have +decided to keep him here with us, if you consent to our arrangements." + +"Ye mean," gasped Flea, snatching her hands from Horace, "ye mean that +Flukey can lay in that there bed till he gets all well and all the +misery has gone out of his bones?" + +Ann's answer meant much to Flea. The girl had realized the import of the +speech; but, that she might better understand the words, she had sent +them questioningly back in her vernacular for further confirmation. + +"If you are willing to stay with us," Horace was saying, "and will help +us take care of him--" + +He could not have offered anything else that would so have touched her. +How she had longed to do something for Flukey those last hours in the +graveyard! But Flea wanted no mistake. Did the gentleman understand how +terribly poor they were? + +"We ain't got no money, and we only own Squeaky and Snatchet." + +Shellington smiled at the interruption. + +"You will still own your dog and pig, child, if you ever wish to go +away. My sister and I are anxious to have your brother grow strong and +well. He has rheumatic fever, which is sometimes very stubborn, and if +we don't work hard--" + +He paused, tempted to pass one arm about the girl as his sister had +done; but the womanliness of her forbade. + +"Ye think Flukey mightn' get well?" Flea breathed. + +Ann turned anxious eyes upon the boy, who was muttering incoherently. + +"Poor little child! May Jesus help him!" she whispered. + +Flea rose to her feet. + +"Jesus! Jesus!" she repeated solemnly. "Granny Cronk used to talk about +him. He's the Man what's a sleepin' in the grave with the kid with the +same name as that bright-eyed duffer who don't like Fluke nor me." + +Ann, mystified, glanced at Horace. + +Flukey turned slowly, opened his eyes, and murmured; + +"'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little--'" + +He sighed painfully as the last words trailed from his lips. Flea ended +his quotation, saying: + +"'A little child.' But, Flukey, Jesus is dead and buried." + +"No, no, He isn't, child!" cried Ann sharply. "He'll never die. He will +always help little children." + +"Ain't He a restin' in the dead man's yard out there?" +demanded Flea, lifting her robe as she moved toward Ann. + +"No! indeed, no! He is everywhere, with the dead and the living, with +men and women, and also with little children." + +"Where be He?" Flea asked. + +"In Heaven," replied Ann, leaning over Flukey. "And He's able even to +raise the dead." + +Flea grasped her arm. + +"Then, if He's everywhere, as ye've jest said, can't ye--" + +Flukey opened his eyes. + +"If ye know that Man Jesus, well enough," he broke forth, trying to take +her hand in his, "if ye ever sees Him to speak to Him, will ye say that, +if He'll let my bones get well, and keep my little Flea from Lem, I'll +do all He says for me to? Tell Him--tell--tell Him, Ma'm, that my bones +be--almost a bustin'." + +"Can He help Fluke any if ye ask Him?" Flea questioned. + +Ann nodded; but Flea, not satisfied, asked the question directly of +Horace. + +"I believe so," he hesitated; "yes, I do believe that He can and will +help your brother." + +"Will ye ask Him?" Flea pleaded. "Will ye both ask Him?" + +Ann answered yes quickly; and Flea was satisfied with the nod Horace +gave her before he wheeled about to the window. + +When Flukey was resting under the physician's medicine, Horace and Ann +listened to the tale of the squatter children's lives, told by Flea. It +was then that Shellington promised her that Squeaky should find a future +home on their farm among other animals of the kind, and that he would +make it his task to see that the little pig had plenty to eat, plenty of +sunshine, and a home such as few little pigs had. Snatchet, too, Horace +promised, should be housed in a warm kennel with the greyhounds and +blooded pups. + +When Flea leaned over Flukey to say goodnight to him, she breathed: + +"This be the promised land, all right, Fluke! Ain't we lucky kids to be +here?" + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + + +With infinite tenderness, Ann led Flea into the pretty blue bedroom. The +girl drew back with an exclamation. + +"It's too nice for a squatter! But I'm glad you put Fluke in that red +place, 'cause it looks so warm and feels warm. But me--" + +Ann interrupted hastily. + +"You remember my brother saying that you were going to stay here with us +until your brother was well?" + +Flea assented. + +"Then, as long as you are with us, you will be our guest just as though +you were my sister. Would you like to be my sister?" + +Flea dropped her gaze before the earnest eyes. + +"Yep!" she choked. "But I'm a squatter, Missus, and squatters don't +count for nothin'. But Fluke--" + +"Poor child! She can't think of anyone but her brother," Miss +Shellington murmured to herself. + +But Flea caught the words. + +"He's so good--oh, so awful good--and he ain't never had no chance with +Pappy Lon. If he gets well, we'll work together, and we won't steal +nothin' ever no more." + +"I feel positive you won't," assured Ann. "You remember, I told you +tonight how very good God is to all His children, and you are a child of +His, and you know that the Bible says that you must never take anything +that doesn't belong to you." + +"Nope, I ain't never seen no Bible," faltered Flea. + +"Then I'm going to give you one, and you can learn to read it. Wouldn't +you be happy if your brother should get well, and you knew that your +prayers had done it?" + +"It wouldn't be me, Ma'm; 'twould be you and your brother." + +Ann considered how she should best begin to open the young mind to +truth. + +"Child, would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked presently. + +"Yep," replied Flea eagerly. "Is it about fairies, or ghosts, or goblins +what live near lakes?" + +"No; it's about Jesus, who died to save the world." + +Then gently and simply Ann told the story of the Passion to the +wondering girl, and shortly after left her to sleep. + +Miss Shellington went to her brother's study, and he met her with a +quizzical smile. + +"You've woven a net about yourself, Sis, haven't you?" said he. + +"And about you, too, Dear," Ann retorted. "But, Horace, I shouldn't have +thought of keeping them, if you hadn't consented." + +She looked so troubled, her brow puckered up in thought, that he smiled +again. + +"Of course, you wouldn't--I know that. But I'm not in the least sorry. +We've money enough to do a kindness once in awhile. And as long as you +don't work yourself to death over them I sha'n't complain." + +They were silent for a little while. Then presently Ann spoke musingly: + +"Horace, do those children remind you of someone?" + +"I don't know that they do. I'm not a fellow who notices resemblances. +Why?" + +"I can't tell. Only, when they stood there tonight by the table, +looking so forlorn, there was something familiar about them." + +"Your dear, tender heart imagined it," Horace declared. + +"Possibly. Still, the feeling has been with me ever since. Horace, I've +always wanted to do some real work, and don't you think this--" + +"Hark!" Horace interrupted. "Wasn't that the bell?" + +"Yes, it's Everett, I hope," said Ann, rising, "I thought perhaps he +would run in. Yes, I hear his voice! Shall I bring him in here for a few +moments?" + +"Yes." + +When Everett came in, Horace noted that he had lost the frown. +Brimbecomb good naturedly demanded if Ann intended to start a +kindergarten. He recounted how Mr. and Mrs. Vandecar had received their +excuses, and then said: + +"Ann, Mrs. Vandecar thought you so charitably inclined. She seemed quite +exercised over the story. But you don't intend to keep them here after +tomorrow morning, do you?" + +"Well, you see, Everett," Ann explained, "Horace and I have talked for a +long time about doing some real charity work; so now we're going to try +an experiment." + +"These boys--" + +Ann interrupted. "One of them is a girl." + +Horace saw the change on Brimbecomb's face and said hurriedly: + +"The girl had on her brother's clothes, that's all." + +"Strange proceedings all the way through, though," snapped Everett. + +He was showing himself in a new light, and Horace noted that the young +lawyer's face bore sarcasm and unpleasant cynicism. He wondered that +his gentle, obedient sister had gathered courage to stand against her +lover's wishes; for Everett had expressed a decided objection to Ann's +working for the squatter children. Suddenly he felt a twinge of dislike +for the man before him, and his respect for Ann deepened. How many +girls, he reasoned, would have the courage and desire thus to take in +two suffering children? He rose quickly and left the room. + +Everett took up the argument again with Miss Shellington: + +"Ann, you're going very much against my wishes if you keep those +children here." + +"I'm sorry, Dear," she said simply; "but you know--" + +"I know that you won't do anything of which I disapprove, Ann." + +"You're mistaken, Everett," Ann contradicted slowly. "I could not allow +even you to mark out my duty. And something makes me so anxious to help +them! I don't want to go against your wishes; but--I must do as my +conscience dictates." + +"Surely you don't mean, Ann, that if you were my wife you would force--" + +"Please don't, Everett! No, of course not; but this is Horace's home and +mine, and, if we desire to share it with someone less fortunate than we +are, you shouldn't object." + +Everett took up no more time in vain argument; but registered a vow that +he would make it warm for the beggars who had thrust themselves upon the +Shellingtons. He would search for an opportunity! Impatient and +unsettled, he left Ann. She, too, was unhappy; for it had been the first +time her duty had ever clashed with her love. The shock of the collision +hurt. + +The next morning Flea crept into her brother's room and stood looking +down at him. He opened his eyes languidly, smiled, and groaned. + +"Ain't yer bones any better this mornin'?" asked Flea in an awed +whisper. + +"Yep; but my heart hurts me. The pains round it be worse than the misery +in my knees, 'cause I can't breathe." + +Flea bent lower. + +"Did the pretty lady tell ye anythin' last night?" + +"Nope; did she tell you anythin'?" + +"Yep, all about the Jesus. Get her to tell you, Fluke. It's better than +fairy stories. I can't remember all of it; but she says He jest loved +everybody so well that He let 'em nail Him on a cross, and died there. +But He got up again, and that's how He came to be up there." + +Flea pointed upward. + +"Did Miss--Miss Shellington tell ye that?" + +"Yep, Fluke." She hesitated and whispered again, "Do ye believe it, +Fluke?" + +"Course I do, if she says it! Don't ye think what she says is so?" + +"I don't believe all that," replied Flea. "I tried last night, and +couldn't. You used to laugh at me when I said as how there was ghosts." + +"Mebbe she don't believe in ghosts," sighed Flukey. + +"It's almost the same. She believes in Jesus." + +"He's all I believe in, too." Flukey closed his eyes wearily. + +"Fluke," whispered Flea presently, "ye ought to see that room I slep' +in! It were finer'n this one." + +"This be the promised land, all right, what Scraggy speaked about," said +Flukey. "There ain't no more places like it in this here world." + +"I believe that, too," answered Flea, "and if we hadn't been hungry +we'd never have stealed, and we wouldn't have found Mr. and Miss +Shellington. Yet she says it's wicked to steal." + +"So it be, Flea, and ye know it. All ye're tryin' to do now is not to +believe about that Jesus. I bet somethin'll come that'll make ye believe +it." + +"Mebbe," mumbled Flea darkly; "but 's long 's 'tain't Pappy Lon or Lem, +I don't care." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + + +During the next two weeks, while Flukey was fighting with death, and the +great Shellington mansion was as silent as a tomb, Scraggy Peterson was +tramping back to the squatter country. When she reached Ithaca, she was +almost too ill to start up the Lehigh Valley tracks toward her hut. The +black cat clung to her tattered jacket, his wizard-eyes shining green, +as Screech Owl passed under the gas-lamps. It was almost ten o'clock at +night when she unlatched her shanty door and kindled a fire. The larder +was bare, save for some crusts of hard bread. These the woman soaked in +hot water and shared with the cat. Then, in a state of great exhaustion, +she picked up Black Pussy, blew out the candle, and, for the first time +in many days, slept in her own hut. + +On the shore below Lem Crabbe's scow was drawn up near the Cronk hut. +The squatter and scowman were conversing in the dim light of a lantern +that swung from Lem's hook. + +"Did ye make any hauls while ye was gone, Lem?" asked Lon. + +"Nope, only sold the lumber. I ain't trying nothin' alone." + +"It was cussed mean I couldn't go along with ye," Lon said; "but I had +to stay to hum. Did ye know that Mammy were dead?" + +"Nope!" + +"Yep, and buried, too! She fretted over the brats, and kep' a sayin' +they was dead in the lake. But I know they jest runned off some'ers." + +"I know it, too," Lem grunted savagely. "The gal didn't have no likin' +for me." + +"I jest see Scraggy come hum," ventured Lon. "She's been gone for a long +while. She were a comin' down the tracks." + +Lem muttered a savage oath, and faced the scow preparatory to entering. +Looking back over his shoulder, he asked: + +"Be ye comin' in, Lon?" + +"Nope; I'm goin' to bed. Say, Lem, while ye was away, ye didn't get ear +of no good place to make a haul soon, did ye?" + +"Yep; I tied up to Tarrytown goin' down. There be heaps of rich folks +there. Middy Burnes what runs the tug says as how there be a feller +there richer than the devil.... Hell! I've forgot his name!" + +Lem halted on the gangplank and thought for a moment. + +"Nope, I ain't; I jest thought of it!... Shellington! That's him, and +he's a fine house, and many's the room filled with--" + +Lon broke in upon Lem with a growl: + +"Then we'll separate him from some of his jewjaws. I bet we has a little +of his pile afore another month goes by!" + +"That's what I bet, too," muttered Lem. "Night, Lon." + +"Night," repeated Lon, walking away. + + * * * * * + +Lem placed the lantern on the table and sat down to think. Ever since +the day Screech Owl had told him of the boy he had wounded so many years +before his mind had worked constantly with the thought that he must +find the home where his son was. Scraggy was the only human being to +tell him. She must tell him! He would make her, if he had to choke the +woman to death to get her secret! He remembered how she had mocked at +him when she had told him that strange bit of news. Realizing that +Scraggy's malady made her difficult to coerce, he decided to try +cajolery at once. + +Lent rose and took a bit of bread from the cupboard shelf. He slipped it +into a bag, caught up the lantern with his hook, and left the scow. He +halted in front of Scraggy's dark hut and pounded on the door. The cat, +scrambling to the floor inside, was Lem's answer. He knocked again. + +"Scraggy! Scraggy!" he called. "It be Lemmy! Open the door!" + +Through her deep sleep came the voice Screech Owl had loved, and still +loved. She sat up in bed, trembling violently, pushing back with a +pathetic gesture the gray hair from her eyes. She had been dreaming of +Lem--dreaming that she had heard his voice. But black pussy couldn't +have dreamed also. He was perched in the small window, lashing his great +tail from side to side. She slid from the bed, stretched out a bony +hand, and clutched the cat. + +"Did ye hear him, too, black pussy?" + +"Scraggy!" called Lem again, "Open the door! I brought you something to +eat." + +It was the thought of the time when he had loved her so, and not of the +food he had brought, that forced Scraggy to the door. She flung it open, +and the scowman entered. + +"I thought ye might be hungry, Scraggy; so I brought ye this bread," +said Lem, lifting the hook and sending a ray from the lantern upon the +woman. "Can I set down?" + +Could he, this king among men to her, could he sit down in her hut? He +could have had her heart's blood had he asked it! Had she not crowned +him that day, when he had stood awkwardly by, as she tendered him a +dark-haired baby boy? Scraggy's happiness knew no bounds. She forgot her +fatigue and set forth a chair for Lem. + +"Be ye glad to see me, Scraggy?" asked he presently, crossing his legs +and watching her as she lighted some candles. + +"More'n glad," she replied simply. "But what did ya come for, Lemmy?" + +Lem remained silent for some seconds; then said: + +"Do ye want to come back to the scow, Scraggy?" + +"Ye mean to live?" + +Lem shoved out his hairy chin. + +"Yep, to live," said he. + +"Did ye come to ask me back, Lemmy?" + +"Yep, or I wouldn't have been here. I've been thinkin' our fambly +oughter be together." + +"Fambly!" echoed Screech Owl wonderingly. + +"Yep, Scraggy. We'll get the boy again, and all of us'll live on the +scow." + +His swarthy face went yellow in the candlelight, and the huge goiter +under his chin evidenced by its movements the emotion through which he +was passing. Scraggy had sunk to the floor. Now she crawled nearer him, +staring at his face with wonder-widened eyes. + +"Do ye mean, Lemmy, that ye love yer pretty boy brat well enough to want +him on the scow, and that he can eat all he wants?" + +"That's what I mean," grunted Lem. + +"And that ye mean me to tell him what ye says, Lemmy, and that ye want +me to bring him back?" + +"Yep." + +Scraggy had drawn closer and closer to Lem, her sad face wrinkling into +deeper lines. With each uttered word Lem had seen that he had conquered +her. Suddenly he dropped his heavy left hand down on the gray head and +kept it there. + +For the first time in many weary years Scraggy Peterson was kneeling +before her man. Now he wanted her! He had asked her to come again to +that precious haven of rest, and to bring the child! Scraggy forgot that +the babe she had passed through the barge window was grown to be a man, +forgot that he might not want to come back to the scow with her and his +father. + +Lem drew her close between his heavy knees and touched her withered chin +with his fingers. + +"Where be the brat, Scraggy?" he wheedled. + +Screech Owl lifted her head and drew back frightened. Something warned +her that she must not tell him where his son lived. + +"I'll get him for ye," she said doggedly. + +"Where be he?" demanded the scowman. + +"I ain't tellin' ye where he be now, Lem." Scraggy's tone was sulky. + +"Why?" + +"'Cause I'll go and get him. I'll bring him to the scow +lessen--lessen--" + +"Lessen what?" cried Lem darkly. + +"Lessen a month," replied Scraggy, "and ye'll kiss the brat, and he'll +call ye 'Daddy,' and he'll love ye like I do, Lemmy dear." + +Lem was rigid, as the woman smoothed down his shaggy gray hair and +patted his hard face. Suddenly he started to his feet. + +"Ye say, Scraggy, that ye'll bring the boy lessen a month?" + +"Yep, lessen a month. And, Lemmy, he be a beautiful baby! Ye'll love +him, will ye, Lemmy?" + +"Yep. And now ye take yer cat, Screechy, and get back to bed, and when +ye get the boy bring him to the scow." He hesitated a moment; then said, +"Ye don't know, do ye, where Flea and Flukey run to?" + +Scraggy's face dropped. + +"Be they gone?" she stammered, rising. + +"Yep, for a long time; and Granny Cronk be dead." + +"Then ye didn't get Flea, Lem?" + +"Nope. And I don't want the brat, Scraggy; I only want the boy." He +spoke with meaning, and when he stood on the hut steps he turned back to +finish, "Ye'll bring him, will ye, Owl?" + +"Yep, Lemmy love, lessen a month." + +Scraggy greedily watched the shadowy form move away in the light of the +lantern. "Pussy, Pussy," she muttered, as she closed the door, "black +Pussy, come a beddy; yer ole mammy be that happy that her heart's a +bustin'." + +When Screech Owl, although the happiest woman in the squatter +settlement, fell asleep with the cat in her arms, her pillow was wet +with tears. + + * * * * * + +Through long days of anxious waiting for Flukey's recovery, Flea +struggled with the Bible lessons Ann set for her each day. Yet she could +not grasp the meaning of faith. She prayed nightly; but uttered her +words mechanically, for the Savior in the blue sky seemed beyond her +conception. In spite of Miss Shellington's tender pleading, in spite of +the fact that Flukey believed stanchly all that Ann had told them, Flea +suffered in her disbelief. Many times she sought consolation in Flukey's +faith. + +"Ye see, Flea, can't ye," he said, one morning, "that when Sister Ann +says a thing it's so? Can't ye see it, Flea?" + +"Nope, I can't. I don't know how God looks. I can't understand how Jesus +ruz after he'd been dead three days." + +"He did that 'cause He were one-half God," explained Flukey, and then, +brightening, added, "Sister Ann telled me that if He hadn't been a +sufferin' and a sufferin', and hadn't loved everybody well enough, God +wouldn't have let Him ruz. 'Twa'n't by anything He did after He were +dead that brought Him standin' up again." + +"Then who did it?" queried Flea. + +"God did--jest as how He said 'way back there when there wasn't any +world, 'World, come out!' and the world came. He said, 'Jesus, stand +up!' and Jesus stood up. That's as easy as rollin' off a log, Flea." + +She had heard Ann explain it, too; but it seemed easier when Flukey +interpreted it. + +"If I could see and speak to Him once," she mourned, "I could make +Sister Ann glad by tellin' her that I knowed He'd answer me." + +"Ask Him to let ye see Himself," advised Flukey, "He'll do it, I bet! +Will ye, Flea?" + +"Nope! I'd be 'fraid if He came and stood near me. I'm 'fraid even now +when I think of Him; but 'cause I can't believe 'tain't no reason why +you can't, Fluke." + +She turned her head toward the door and listened. + +"Brother Horace ain't like Sister Ann," she whispered. + +"Nobody ain't like her, Flea. She's the best ever!" + +"Yep, so she is. But I wish as how--" She paused, and a burning blush +spread over her face. "I wish as how Brother Horace had Sister Ann's way +of talking to me. I could--" + +"Brother Horace ain't nothin' to do with yer believin', Flea." + +"Yep, he has, and when he says as how he believes like Miss Shellington, +then I'll believe, too. See?" + +Then Flea fell into a stubborn silence. + +One afternoon in December, Ann and Horace sat conversing in the library. + +"I don't see how Mrs. Vandecar can refuse to help you get that child +into school, Ann." + +"I don't believe she will; but Everett thinks she ought." + +"Everett's getting some queer notions lately," Horace said reluctantly. + +Ann's heart ached dully--the happiness she had had in her lover had +diminished of late. Constantly unpleasant words passed between them on +subjects of so little importance that Ann wondered, when she was alone, +why they should have been said at all. Several times Brimbecomb had +refused to further his acquaintance with the twins. + +"I only wish he would like those poor children," said she. "I care so +little what our other friends think!" + +Shellington pondered a moment. He reflected on Flea's beseeching face as +she pleaded for Flukey, and he decided that the censure of all his +acquaintances could not take his protection from her. + +"No, I don't care for the opinion of any of them," he replied +deliberately. "I want only your happiness, Sis, and--theirs." + +"Wouldn't it be nice if we could find respectable names for them?" Ann +said presently. "One can't harmonize them with 'Flea' and 'Flukey.'" + +After a silence of a few moments, Horace spoke: + +"What do you think about calling them Floyd and Fledra, Ann?" + +"Oh, but would we dare do that, Horace?" + +"Why not? It wouldn't harm the Vandecars, and the children might be +better for it. We could impress upon them what an honor it would be." + +"But the Vandecars' own little lost children had those names." + +"That's true, too; but I haven't the least idea that either one of them +will take offense, if you explain that we think it will help the +youngsters." + +"Shall I speak with Mrs. Vandecar about it this afternoon?" asked Ann. + +"Yes, just sound her, and see what she says." + +"I might as well go to her right away, then, Horace. You talk with the +little girl about going to school while I'm gone. You can do so much +more with her than I can." + +"All right," said Horace, "and I feel very sure that we won't have any +trouble with her." + +After seeing his sister depart, he returned to the library and, before +settling himself in a chair, sent a summons to Flea. + +When the girl appeared, Horace rose and cast smiling eyes of approval +over her. + +"That's a mighty pretty dress you have on," said he. "Was it Sister's +idea to put that lacy, frilly stuff on it?" + +Flea crimsoned at his praise, as she nodded affirmation. + +"Sit here in this chair," invited Shellington. "I want to have a little +chat with you this afternoon." + +Unconsciously Flea put herself into an attitude of graceful attention +and gazed at him worshipfully. At that moment Horace felt how very much +he desired that she grow into a good woman. + +"How do you think your brother is today?" he questioned kindly. + +"He's awful sick," replied Flea. + +"I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time. He was filled +with the fever when he came here. Now, my sister and I have been talking +it over--" + +Flea rose half-hesitantly. + +"And ye wants me to take him some'ers else?" she questioned. + +Horace motioned again for her to be seated. + +"Sit down, child," said he; "you're quite wrong in your hasty guess. No, +of course, you're not to go away. But my sister and I desire that while +you are here you should study, and that you should come in contact with +other girls of your own age. We want you to go to school." + +"Study--study what?" + +"Why, learn to read and write, and--" + +"Ye mean I have to leave Flukey, and--and you?" + +She had risen and had come close to him, her eyes filled with burning +tears. Horace felt his throat tighten: for any emotion in this girl +affected him strangely. + +"Oh, no! You won't go away from home--at least, not at night; only for a +few hours in the daytime. I'm awfully anxious that you should learn, +Flea." + +She came even closer as she said: + +"I'll do anything you want me to--'cause ye be the best ole duffer in +New York State!" Then she whirled and fled from the room. + + * * * * * + +Ann Shellington rang the Vandecar doorbell, and a few minutes later was +ushered upstairs. Mrs. Vandecar was in a negligée gown, and Katherine +was brushing the invalid's hair. + +"Pardon me, Ann dear," said Mrs. Vandecar, "for receiving you in this +way; but I'm ill today." + +"I'm so sorry! It's I who ought to ask pardon for coming. But I knew +that no one could aid me except you in the particular thing I am +interested in." + +"I shall be glad to help you, if I can, Ann.... There, Katherine, just +roll my hair up. Thank you, Girly." + +Ann had seated herself, and now spoke of her errand: + +"You've heard of our little charges who came so strangely to us not long +ago?" + +Mrs. Vandecar nodded. + +"Horace and I wish to do something for them. It seems as if they had +been sent to us by Providence. The lad is very ill, and the girl ought +to go to school. We were wondering if you could have her admitted for +special lessons to Madame Duval's. The school associations would do such +a lot for her." As Ann continued, she marked Mrs. Vandecar's hesitation. +"I know very well, Dear, that I am asking you a serious thing; but +Brother and I think that it would do her a world of good." + +Mrs. Vandecar thoughtfully received the shawl Katherine brought her. +Then she looked straight at Ann and said: + +"Everett doesn't approve of your work, does he, Ann?" + +Miss Shellington colored, and fingered her engagement ring. + +"No," she replied frankly; "but it's because he refuses to know them. +They're little dears! I've explained to him our views, and have promised +that they shall not interfere with any plans he and I may make. I've +never seen Horace vitally interested before, or at least so much so. +Now, do you think that you would be willing to do this for us? Mildred's +going to the school, and you being a patroness will make Madame Duval +listen to such a proposal from you." + +Mrs. Vandecar turned upon her visitor searchingly. + +"Are you doing right, Ann, in taking these children into your home life? +I appreciate your good-heartedness; but--" + +"Horace and I have talked it all over," interjected Ann, "and we are +both assured that we are doing what is right. Won't you think it over, +and let us know what you decide? If you find you can't do it--why, we'll +arrange some other way." + +The plan of naming the children came into her mind; but she hesitated +before broaching it. Mrs. Vandecar was a type of everything high-bred +and refined. Would it offend her aristocratic sense to have the children +named after her and her husband? Ann overcame her timidity and spoke: + +"Fledra, there's another thing I wanted to speak of. The children came +to us without proper names, and Horace suggested that we call them Floyd +and Fledra. Would you mind?" + +Mrs. Vandecar drew back a little, a shade passing over her face. A +painful memory ever present seized her. Long ago two babies had been +called after their father and mother--after her and her strong husband. +Could she admit that she did not care? Could she consent to Ann's +request? Ann noted her struggle, and said quickly: + +"I'm sorry--forgive me, Dear!" + +Mrs. Vandecar's face brightened, and she smiled. + +"I thought at first that I didn't want you to; but I won't be foolish. +Of course, call them whatever you wish. Floyd won't mind, either." + + * * * * * + +Horace met his sister expectantly. + +"Did you ask her about the names, Ann?" + +"Yes. At first she was not inclined to either of our plans; but she has +such a tender heart." + +"So she has," responded Horace. + +"She consented about the names; but said that she would send me word +about the school." + +"And she didn't give a ready consent?" + +"No; but I'm almost sure that she will do it. And now about Flea. Did +you talk with her?" + +"Yes. She consented to go to school, and said--that I was the best old +duffer in New York State." + +"Oh, Horace! She must be taught not to use such language. It's dreadful! +Poor little dear!" + +"It'll take sometime to alter that," replied Horace, shaking his head. +"They've had a fearful time, and she's been used to talking that way +always; she's heard nothing else. You can't alter life's habits in a +day." + +"But Madame Duval won't have her if she's impudent," said Ann. + +"Oh, but she's scarcely that," expostulated Horace; "she doesn't +understand. I'll try to correct her sometime." + +But he felt the blood come up to his hair as he promised; for it seemed +almost impossible to approach the girl with a matter so personal. For +the present, he dismissed the thought. + +"What about the names, Ann?" he asked. + +"As you wish, Dear; Fledra doesn't care." + +From that moment, the boy, struggling with fever, and the gray-eyed +girl, so like him, were called Floyd and Fledra Cronk. + + * * * * * + +One morning in January, the day before Flea was to begin her school +work, she was passing through the hall that led to the front door. Her +face was grave with timidity; although for hours Ann had been trying to +fortify the young spirit against the ordeal that was to confront her the +following day. Only once had Flea faltered a request that she be allowed +to stay at home; but Horace had melted her objections without expelling +her fear. To Ann's instructions concerning conduct she had listened with +a heavy heart. + +Everett Brimbecomb opened the front door as Flea approached it. She +stopped short before him, and he drew in a sharp, quick breath. Flea was +uncertain just what to do. She knew that he was going to marry Ann, and +was also aware that he hated her brother and herself. Ann, however, had +taught her to bow, and she now came forward with hesitant grace, and +inclined her head slightly. The beauty of Flea made Everett regret that +his objections to the twins had been so strenuous; but he would +immediately establish a friendship with her that would please both Ann +and Horace. He vowed that at the same time he would get some amusement +out of it. + +"Well! You've blossomed into a girl at last," he said banteringly, "and +a mighty pretty one, too! I swear I shouldn't have known that you were +one of those boys!" + +Flea threw her peculiar eyes over him; but did not speak. + +"You're going to school tomorrow, I hear. How do you like that?" + +Flea shook her head. + +"I don't want to go," she admitted; "but my Prince says as how I have +to." + +"Your what?" + +"My Prince!" + +"Your Prince! Who's your Prince?" demanded Brimbecomb. + +"Him, back in there," replied Flea, casting her head backward in the +direction of the library. + +"You mean Mr. Shellington?" + +"Yep!" + +Everett burst into a loud laugh. At the sound, Horace stepped to his +study-door and looked out. His face darkened as he discerned Flea +standing against the wall and Brimbecomb looking down at her. He came +forward and stationed himself at the girl's side, placing one hand upon +her shoulder. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Why, little Miss--I'm sure I don't know the child's name," cried +Everett breaking into merriment again, "she says you're a--Prince, +Horace." + +Shellington lowered his eyes to Flea, who was gazing up at him +fearfully. She did not look at Everett; but made an uneasy gesture with +her hand toward Horace. She had never seemed so appealingly adorable, +and inwardly Everett cursed the stupidity that had allowed so many +weeks to pass by without his having become Flea's friend. + +There was silence, during which the girl locked and unlocked her +fingers. Then she relieved it with the frank statement: + +"This man here didn't seem to know nothin' about ye; so I told him ye +was a Prince." + +Ann's voice from the drawing-room caused Everett to turn on his heel, +leaving Horace alone with Flea. + +For a moment they were both quiet. Flea considered the toe of her +slipper. A tear dropped to the front of her dress as Horace took her +hand and led her into the library. + +"Fledra," he said, using the new name with loving inflection, "what are +you crying for?" + +"I thought you was mad at me," she shuddered. "That bright-eyed duffer +what I hate laughed when I said ye was a Prince. I hate his eyes, I do, +and I hate him!" + +Shellington did not correct her mistakes in English as he had done so +often of late. With shaded remonstrance in his tone, he said: + +"Fledra, he is going to marry my sister, and he's my friend." + +"He ain't good enough for Sister Ann," muttered Flea stubbornly. + +"She loves him, though, and that is enough to make us all treat him with +respect." + +Turning the subject abruptly, he continued: + +"I'm expecting you to work very hard in school, Fledra. You will, won't +you?" + +"Yes," replied Flea, making sure to pronounce the word carefully. + +Horace smiled so tenderly into her eyes that she grew frightened at the +thumping of her heart and fled precipitately. + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + + +Fledra Cronk's school days lengthened slowly into weeks. She was making +rapid strides in English, and Miss Shellington's patience went far +toward keeping her mind concentrated upon her work. At first some of the +girls at the school were inclined to smile at her endeavors; but her sad +face and questioning eyes drew many of them into firm friends. +Especially did she cling to Mildred Vandecar, and raised in the +golden-haired daughter of the governor an idol at whose shrine she +worshiped. + +One Saturday morning in the latter part of March, Mildred Vandecar +persuaded her mother to allow her to go, accompanied by Katherine, to +the Shellington home. They found Ann reading aloud to the twins, Flukey +resting on the divan. Mildred was presented to him, and in the hour that +followed the sick boy became her devoted subject. + +The three young people listened eagerly to the story, and after it was +finished Ann entered into conversation with Katherine. + +Suddenly she heard Flukey exclaim, in answer to some question put by +Mildred: + +"My sister and me ain't got no mother!" + +Miss Shellington colored and partly rose; but she had no chance to +speak, for Mildred was saying: + +"Oh, dear! how you must miss her! Is she dead? And haven't you any +father, either?" + +"Yep," said Flukey; "but he ain't no good. He hates us, he does, and +worse than that, he's a thief!" + +Mildred drew back with a shocked cry. Ann was up instantly; while +Fledra got to her feet with effort. She remembered how carefully Ann had +instructed her never to mention Lon Cronk or any of the episodes in +their early days at Ithaca; but Flukey had never been thus warned. + +"Mildred, dear," Ann said anxiously, "Floyd and Fledra were unfortunate +in losing their mother, and more unfortunate in having a father who +doesn't care for them as your father does for you." She passed an arm +about Fledra and continued, "It would be better if we were not to talk +of family troubles any more, Floyd.... Fledra, won't you ask Mildred to +play something for you?" + +The rest of Mildred's stay was so strained that Miss Shellington +breathed a sigh of relief when Katherine suggested going. For a few +seconds neither Ann nor Fledra spoke after the closing of the door. It +was the latter who finally broke the silence. + +"Flukey hadn't ought to have said anything about Pappy Lon; but he +didn't know--he thought everybody knew about us.... Are ye going to send +us away now?" + +The girl's anxiety and worried look caused Ann to reassure her quickly. + + * * * * * + +In describing the events of the afternoon to her mother, Mildred wept +bitterly. When a grave look spread over Mrs. Vandecar's face, Katherine +interposed: + +"Aunty, while those children undoubtedly had bad parents, they will +really amount to something, I'm sure." + +It was not until she was alone with Katherine that Mrs. Vandecar opened +the subject. + +"I'm almost afraid I was incautious to allow a friendship to spring up +between this strange child and Mildred. I wish I could see her." + +"Ask her here, then. She's very pretty, very gentle, and needs young +friends sadly, although the Shellingtons are treating the two children +beautifully. If they don't grow up to be good, it won't be Ann's fault, +nor Horace's." + +"I'll invite the child to come some afternoon, then." With this decision +the subject dropped. + + * * * * * + +That evening Ann went out on a charitable mission, leaving Fledra to +deliver a message to Everett and to care for Floyd. The boy was in bed, +his thin white hands resting wearily at his sides. For sometime he +allowed his sister to work at her lessons. Then he said impetuously: + +"Flea, why be these folks always so kind to you and me? They ain't never +been mad yet, and I'm allers a yowlin' 'cause my bones and my heart hurt +me." + +Flea looked up from her book meditatively. + +"They're both good, that's why." + +"It's 'cause they pray all the time, ain't it?" Floyd asked. + +"I guess so." + +"I'd a died those nights if Sister Ann hadn't prayed for me, wouldn't I, +Flea?" + +"Yes," replied Flea in abstraction. + +After a silence, Floyd spoke again: + +"Flea, do you like that feller what Sister Ann's going to marry?" + +The girl dropped a monosyllabic negative and fell to studying. + +"Why?" insisted Floyd. + +Before Flea could reply, a servant appeared at the door, saying that Mr. +Brimbecomb wanted Miss Shellington. + +[Illustration: "IT WERE A PRINCE--A REAL LIVE PRINCE!"] + +Fledra closed her book and went to the drawing-room, where she found +Everett standing near the grate. His brilliant smile made her drop her +eyes embarrassedly. She overlooked his extended hand, and made no move +to come forward. The girl had always felt afraid of him. Now his +presence in the room increased her vague fears. Why she had felt this +sudden premonition of evil, she did not know, nor did she try to analyze +her feelings. Young as she was, Fledra recognized in him an enemy, and +yet his attitude betrayed a personal interest. She had seen him many +times during the last few weeks; but had managed to escape him through +the connivance of Miss Shellington. Ann had tactfully explained to the +girl that Mr. Brimbecomb did not feel the same toward her and Flukey as +did her brother; but had added, "It's because he does not know you both, +Dear, as Horace and I do." + +Once alone with him, she knew only that she wanted to give him Ann's +message and return quickly to Floyd. Before she could speak, Brimbecomb +passed behind her and closed the door. + +"Sister Ann won't be home for an hour," said Flea, turning sharply. + +Everett smiled again. + +"Sit down, then," he said. + +"I can't; I have to study." + +Something in the girl's tones brought a low laugh from Everett. He came +closer to her. + +"You're a deliciously pretty child," he bantered. "Won't you take hold +of my hands?" + +Placing her arms behind her, Flea answered: + +"No, I don't like ye!" She backed far from him, her eyes burning with +anger. + +"You're a very frank little maid, as well as pretty," drawled Everett. +"Ever since I first saw you as a girl, I've wanted to know something +about you. Who's your father?" + +"None of yer business!" snapped Flea. + +"Frank again," laughed the lawyer ruefully. "Now, honestly, wouldn't you +like to be friends with me?" + +"No! I said I didn't like ye, and I don't! I want to go now. You can +sit here alone until Sister Ann comes." + +She looked so tantalizingly lovely, so lithely young, as she flung the +disagreeable words at him, that Brimbecomb impulsively made a step +toward her. He was unused to such treatment and manners. That this girl, +sprung from some unknown corner, dared to flaunt her dislike in his +face, made him only the more determined to conquer her. + +"If I wait until Sister Ann comes," he said coolly, "I shall not wait +alone. I insist that you stay here with me!" + +"I have to go back to my brother. So let me go by--please!" + +Fledra made an effort to pass Brimbecomb; but he grasped her +deliberately in his arms. Drawing her forcibly to him, he exclaimed: + +"I've caught my pretty bird! Now I'm going to kiss you!" + +Flea's mind flashed back to the day when Lem Crabbe had tried to kiss +her, and the thought came to her mind that she could have borne that +even better than this. She squirmed about until her face was far below +his arm, and muttered: + +"If you try to kiss me, I'll dig a hole in yer mug!" + +Half-mocking at the threat, half-inviting its fulfilment, Everett +laughed. Then, with all his strength, he forced Flea's angry, crimsoned +face up to his and closed his lips over her red mouth, kissing her again +and again. The girl struggled until she was free. In an uncontrollable +temper she thrust her hand to Everett's face, and he felt her +fingernails scrape his cheek. He released her instantly, stepping back +in a gasp of rage and surprise. + +Pantingly the girl rubbed her lips with her sleeve. + +"If Sister Ann weren't a lovin' ye," she flashed at him, "I'd tell her +how cussed mean ye be! If ye ever try to kiss me again, I'll tear yer +eyes out, Mister!" + +She was gone before he could stop her, and, like a young fury bounded +into the presence of Flukey. + +"I know why I hate that feller of Sister Ann's," she muttered; "'cause +he's bad--he's a damn dog! That's what he is!" + +With a startled ejaculation, Floyd half-rose; but Ann's step in the hall +sent him back on the pillow gasping. + +Fledra sank down at the table, by effort repressing her breath. She +heard the door open, and when Miss Shellington entered her red face was +bent low over the grammar. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + + +A few seconds before, when Miss Shellington had entered the house, she +had seen Everett's shadow on the drawing-room curtain; but for the +moment her habitual concern for Floyd overrode her eagerness to be with +her lover, and she hurried to the sickroom. As was her custom, she took +the boy's hand in hers and examined him closely. With her daily +observance of him, she had learned to detect the slightest change in his +appearance. Now his flushed cheeks and racing pulse told her he was +laboring under great excitement. + +"Floyd," she exclaimed in dismay, "you've been talking too much! Your +face is awfully red!... Why, Fledra, I've cautioned you many times--" + +At the girl's apparent unconcern, Miss Shellington left the reproach +unfinished. She perceived the scarlet cheeks and flashing eyes peering +at her over the open book. + +"Is there anything the matter, Fledra?" + +The girl let her gaze fall. + +"You haven't been quarreling with Floyd?" + +"Nope, Sister Ann; Flukey and me never have words." + +"I should hope not," Ann replied sincerely; "but, Fledra dear, when I +speak to you, please look at me." + +With a shake of the black curls, Fledra lifted her face. + +"Tell me what is the matter with you," said Ann. + +A glint of steel shown in the gray eyes. Flea's lips opened to speak, +and for one moment Ann's happiness was threatened with destruction. The +girl was on the point of telling her about Everett--then Brimbecomb's +voice rang out from the reception-room. + +"Ann, dear! Aren't you ever coming?" + +Fledra noticed Miss Shellington's face change as if by magic, and saw a +lovelight grow in her eyes. + +In silence, she received Ann's sorrowful kiss. + +"Little sister, I really wasn't scolding you. I was only thinking of how +careful we have to be of Floyd. I--I wish you would be kind to me!" + +During the painful constraint that followed, Fledra allowed Ann to leave +the room; but before she had more than closed the door the girl rose and +bounded after her. Impulsively she grasped Miss Shellington's arm and +thrust herself in front. + +"Sister Ann," she whispered, "I lied to ye! I was mad at Floyd, as mad +as--" + +Ann placed her finger on the trembling lips. + +"Don't say what you were going to, Dear--and remember it is as great a +sin to get into such a temper as it is to tell a story." + +"Ye won't tell anyone that I fibbed, will ye--Flukey or yer brother, +either?" + +Everett's voice called Ann again, and she replied that she was coming. + +Softly kissing the girl, she said: + +"If I loved you less, Fledra dear, I should not be so anxious about you. +But I'm so fond of you, child! Now, then, smile and kiss me!" + +Fledra flung her arms about the other. + +"I keep forgettin'. I'll try not to be bad any more." Flea turned back +into the room, as Ann hurried away at another call from Everett, and +muttered: + +"If I loved ye less, Sister Ann, I wouldn't have lied to ye." + +Floyd's eyes questioned her as she passed him. + +"Fluke," said she, coming to a halt, "I told Sister Ann I was mad at +you, and I wasn't. You won't tell her, will ye?" + +"No," replied Flukey wonderingly, "I won't tell her nothin'." + +Flea said no more in explanation, and sat again at the study table. She +was still bent over her book when Shellington opened the door and +glanced in. The boy's eyes were closed as if in sleep, and Horace +beckoned to Flea. She rose languidly and walked to him. + +"As your brother is sleeping, Fledra," he murmured, "come into the +library and talk to me awhile." + +There were traces of tears on Fledra's face when Horace ushered her into +the study. + +"Now, little girl, sit down and tell me about your lessons. I've been so +busy lately that I haven't had time to show you my interest.... You've +been crying, Fledra!" + +"Yes, I got mad, and Sister Ann talked to me." + +"Will you tell me why you became angry?" he queried. + +Flea had not expected this, and had no time to think of a reason for her +anger. Deliberating a moment, she placed her head on her arm. It would +be dangerous to tell him about Brimbecomb. If the bright-eyed man in the +drawing-room had only let her go before kissing her--if he had only +remembered his love for Ann! She knew Horace was waiting for her to +speak; but her mind refused absolutely to concoct a reasonable excuse, +and she could not tell him a deliberate lie, as she had to Ann. + +For what seemed many minutes Horace looked at her. + +"Fledra," he said at length, "am I worthy of your confidence?" + +His question brought her up with a jerk. Would she dare tell him? Would +he be silent if he knew that Sister Ann was being perfidiously used? She +was sure he would not. + +"If I tell you something," she began, "you won't never tell anybody?" + +"Never, if you don't want me to." + +She leaned forward and looked straight at him. + +"I just lied to Sister Ann," she said. + +Horace's face paled and he grasped the arms of his chair. Presently he +asked sharply: + +"Why did you lie to my sister, Fledra?" + +"I just did, and you said you wouldn't tell." + +"Was it because you lied to her that you cried?" + +She tossed his question over in her mind. She intended to be truthful to +him, unless a falsehood were forced from her to shield Ann. + +"I cried because Sister Ann was so good to me." + +"Are you going to tell me what caused you to be untruthful?" he asked +persistently. + +Fledra shook her head dismally. + +Immeasurable compassion for the primitive, large-eyed child flooded his +soul, and his next words assumed a more tender tone. + +"Of course, you don't mean that you are going to keep it from me?" + +Her dark head suddenly dropped again, and a smothered storm of sobs drew +him closer to her. In the silence of arrested speech, he reached for her +fingers, which were twisting nervously in the webby lace on her dress. +With reluctance Flea permitted herself to be drawn from her chair. + +"Fledra, stand here--stand close to me!" said he. + +Obediently she came to his side, hiding her face in one bended arm. He +could feel the warmth of her bursting breaths, and he could have touched +the lithe body had he put out his hand. And then--and not until +then--did Horace know that he loved her. Yesterday she had seemed only a +child; but at this moment she was transformed into a woman, and his +sudden passion gave him a lover's right to pass his arm about her. In +bewilderment Flea checked her tears and drew back. He had never before +caressed her in any way. + +Horace stood up, almost mastered by his new emotion. + +"Fledra," he breathed, "Fledra, can't you trust me? Dear child, I love +you so!" + +Stunned by his words, Fledra stared at him. His voice had vibrated with +something she had never heard before. His eyes were brilliant and +pleading. + +"Fledra, can't you--can't you love me?" + +As if by strong cords, her tongue was tied. + +"Listen to me!" pursued Horace. "I know now I loved you that first night +I saw you--that night when you came into the room with Ann's--" + +He stopped at the name of his sister--he had forgotten for the moment +Flea's confession of the falsehood to her. Then the seeming injustice +done Ann turned his mind to the probing he had begun at first for the +cause of Flea's grief. Intermingled with this was a whirl of thought as +to the things that the girl had accomplished. Her entire submission to +Ann and himself, her devotion to Floyd, her desire to master the +difficult problems of her new life, all persuaded him that for his +happiness he must know the cause of her agitation. Spontaneously he +pressed his open hands to her cheeks. + +"Fledra, Fledra! Can I believe you?" + +The girl lowered her head and nodded emphatically. + +"Do you--do you love anyone else--I mean any man?" + +His rapidly indrawn breath came forth with almost an ejaculation. Flea's +eyes sought his for part of a minute. Then slowly she shook her head, a +shadow of a smile broadening her lips. With effort she lifted her arms +and whispered: + +"I don't love anyone else--that is, no man! Be ye sure that ye love +me?" + +Like an impetuous boy he gathered her up, caressing her hair, her eyes, +her lips. With sudden passion he murmured: + +"Fledra! Fledra dear!" + +"I do love ye!" she whispered. "Oh, I do love ye every bit of the day, +and every bit of the night, jest like I did when you came to the +settlement and I saw ye on the shore!" + +Hitherto she had not told him that she had seen him in Ithaca, and he +did not understand her allusion to a former meeting. To his astonished +look, she replied by a question. + +"Don't ye remember one day you came to the settlement and asked the way +to Glenwood?" + +Horace conjured up a vision of a child of whom he had asked his road, +and remembered, in a flashing glance at the girl in his arms, that he +had inwardly commented upon the sad young face. He had noted, too, the +unusual shade in her eyes, and now he wondered vaguely that he had not +loved her then. + +"I remember--of course I remember! Oh, I want you to say again that you +love me, little dearest, that you love me very much!" His lips roved in +sweet freedom over her face as he continued, "You're so young, so very +young, to have a sweetheart; but if you could only begin to love me--in +a few years we could be married, couldn't we?" + +Flea's body grew tense with tenderness. She had never heard such +beautiful words; they meant that her Prince loved her as Ann loved +Everett, as good men loved their wives and good wives loved their +husbands. Instead of answering, she lifted a pale face intensified by +womanly passion. + +"Will ye kiss me?" she breathed. "Kiss me again on my hair, and on my +eyes, and on my lips, because--because I love ye so!" + +His strong avowal had opened a deep spring in her heart which overflowed +in tears. The taut arms pressed him tightly. The words were sobbed out +from a tightened young throat. The very passion in her, that abandonment +which comes from the untutored, stirred all that was primeval in him, +all the desperate longing in a soul newly born. His mouth covered hers +again and again; it sought her closed white lids, her rounded throat, +and again lingered upon her lips. After a few moments he sat down and +drew her into his arms. + +"Little love, my heart has never beaten for another woman--only for you, +always for you! Fledra, open your eyes quick!" + +The brown-flecked eyes flashed into his. Horace bent his head low and +searched them silently for some seconds. + +"I must be sure, Dear, that you love me. Are you very sure?" + +"Yes, yes! That's why I felt so bad tonight, when I told ye about lying +to Sister Ann." There was entreaty in her glance, and her figure +trembled in his arms. Horace started slightly. He had again forgotten +her admission. + +"But you will tell me all about it now, won't you, Fledra? Then we can +tell Ann and your brother about our love." + +Flea stood up; but Horace still kept his arm about her. Her thoughts +flew to Everett. How unfaithful he had been! Could she confide in +Horace, now that she was absolutely his? No; for he would punish Everett +even the more to the detriment of Ann. The thought set her teeth hard. +Had she been Ann, and Horace been Everett, had the man she loved been +unfaithful to the point of stealing kisses from another--She took a long +breath. + +But she was not Sister Ann, neither was Horace, Everett. In a twinkling +everything that Horace had been to her since the first day in Ithaca +flooded her heart with happiness. Her dreamy imagination, which had +enshrined him king of her life, worked with a new desire that nothing +should interfere with the love that he had showered upon her. He had +said, "Do you love me, Dearest?" + +The anxious question had thrilled her vibrant being to silence, had +stilled her eager tongue with the magnitude of its passion. Horace was +pleading with his eyes, imploring her to answer him. Suddenly he burst +out: + +"You will tell me, Dear, why you were untruthful to my sister?" + +Fledra pondered for a moment. + +"Something happened," she began, "and Sister Ann came in--I was mad--" + +"Were you angry at what happened?" + +"Yes." + +Horace led her on. + +"And did Floyd know what had happened?" + +"No." + +"And then?" he demanded almost sharply. + +"And then Sister Ann asked me what was the matter, and I lied, and said +I was mad at Floyd." + +Horace still held her. This sweet possession and desire of her filled +him with serious decision. He deliberated an instant on her confession. + +"Now you've told me that much," said he, "I want to know what happened." + +"I can't tell ye," she said slowly, "I can't, and ye said that ye +wouldn't tell anybody about it." + +Horace's arms loosened. Surely she could have no good reason for keeping +anything from him! Suddenly he grasped her tightly to him and kissed her +again and again. + +"Of course you'll tell me, of course you will! Tell me all about it. I +won't have this thing between us! I can't, I can't! I love you!" + +It maddened her to hear him chide her thus, filled as she was with all +the primeval qualities of the native woman to feel the strength of her +man. How his pleading touched her, how gravely his dear face expressed +an anxiety that she herself was unable to banish! Even should he send +her from him, she could not be false to Ann. To this decision the +strong, untutored mind clung, and again she refused him. + +"No, I'm not goin' to tell you. Mebbe some day I will; but not now." + +She heard him take a deep breath which tore savagely at all the best +within her. It wrestled with her affection for Miss Shellington, for her +duty to Floyd's friend. Not daring to glance up, she still stood in +silence. Horace's voice shocked her with the sternness of it. + +"You've got to tell me! I command you! Fledra, you must!" Then, tilting +her chin upward, he continued reproachfully, "If you're going to keep +vital things from me, you can't be my wife!" + +The resistance against telling him grew faint in her heart in its battle +for desirable things. + +"Ye mean," she asked, with quick intaking of breath, "that I can't be +your woman if I don't tell you?" + +A flush crawled to his forehead as the rich young voice flung the +question at him. She was so maddeningly beautiful, so young and +clinging! But she must bend to his will in a thing like this! In his +desire to set her right, he answered somewhat harshly. + +"You must tell me; of course, you must!" + +Fledra threw him a glance, pleading for leniency. She had expected him +to importune, to scold, but in the end to trust. Suddenly, in the +girl's imagination, Ann's gentle face bending over Floyd rose in its +loving kindness. + +"Then--then," she stammered, "if you won't have me, unless I tell +you--then I'll go now--please!" + +She left him with pathetic dignity, and her last glance showed his eyes, +too, filled with a strange pain. + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + + +The next week held unutterable pain for Flea, each twenty-four hours +deepening her unhappiness more and more. She made no effort to talk with +Shellington, nor did she mention her sorrow to Ann. It did not seem +necessary to her that she should again speak to Horace of going away. +When she had last suggested it, he had said that nothing she could do +would alter his decision about his home being hers until Floyd should be +well. Nevertheless, an innate pride surged constantly within her. Any +deprivation would be more welcome than the studied toleration that, she +thought, she encountered in Horace. + +One morning she stood looking questioningly down at her brother. + +"How near well are ye, Fluke?" + +"Ain't never goin' to get well!" he replied, shivering. "'Tain't easy to +get pains out of a feller's bones when they once get in." + +"If you do get well soon, I think we'd better go away." + +"Why?" demanded Flukey. + +"Because we wasn't asked to stay only till you got well." + +"Don't ye believe it, Flea! Ye wasn't here last night. Brother Horace +and Sister Ann thought I was to sleep, and I wasn't." + +"What did they say?" broke in the girl, with whitening face. + +"Sister Ann told Mr. Shellington about yer work at school, and he +said--as how--" + +Floyd waited a moment before continuing, and Flea crept closer to the +bed. She was crying softly as she knelt down and bent her face over her +brother. The boy passed his hands through the black curls. + +"What's the matter, Flea?" + +"I want to know what my Prince said to Sister Ann." + +"Be ye crying about him?" + +"Yes!" + +"Ye love him, I bet!" + +Flea buried her face deeper into the soft counterpane; but she managed +to make an affirmative gesture with her head. + +Floyd was silent, and sometime passed before he heard the girl's +smothered voice: + +"And I'm goin' to love him always--even after we go away!" + +"We ain't goin' away," said Floyd. + +"Who said so?" + +"Mr. Shellington." + +"When?" + +"Last night." + +Fledra lifted her head and grasped the boy's thin hands in hers. + +"You're sure it was last night, Fluke?" + +"Yep, I be sure. I was layin' here with my face to the wall. When Sister +Ann comes in nights, if I don't say anything, she thinks I be asleep, +and she kisses me, and I like her to do that. Last night, when she'd +done kissing me, Mr. Shellington came in, and then they talked about +us." + +"And he didn't say we was to go away?" + +"No." + +Fledra rose in sudden determination, and in her excitement spoke with +swift reversion to the ancient manner. + +"Flukey, ye be the best da----" + +Flukey thrust up a reproving finger which stopped the oath. + +"Flea!" he cautioned. + +"I were only goin' to say, Flukey," said Flea humbly, "that ye be the +best kid in all the world. Don't tell anybody what I said about my +Prince." + +She went out quickly. + + * * * * * + +With her hand upon her heart, Flea halted before the library. She knew +that Horace was there; for she could hear the rustling of papers. At her +timid knock, he bade her enter. Her tongue clove so closely to the roof +of her mouth that for a minute she could not speak. She held out her +fingers, and Horace took them in his. His face whitened at her touch; +but he gazed steadily at her. + +"You've--you've something to say to me, Fledra--sweetheart?" + +The hope in his voice rang out clearly. Fledra nodded. + +"What?" + +He was determined she should explain away the black thing that had +arisen between them. + +"I didn't come to tell ye about what happened," said she; "but to say +that, if ye don't smile and don't touch me sometimes, I'll die--I know I +will!" Her tones were disjointed with emotion, and she felt the hands +holding hers tighten. + +"I can't smile when I'm unhappy, Fledra. I can't! I can't! This past +week has been almost unbearable." + +"It's been that way with me, too," said Flea simply. + +"Then why don't you make us both happy by being honest with me? If you +didn't care for me, I should have no right to force your confidence; but +you really do, don't you?" + +"Yes; but I'm never goin' to marry ye, because mebbe I can't never tell +ye. I think ye might trust me. It's easy when ye love anyone. I say, ye +couldn't marry me without, could ye?" She seemed to suddenly grow old in +her sagacious argument. Horace shook his head sadly. + +"We'd never be happy, if I should," said he, "because--because I +couldn't trust you." + +"Oh, I want ye to trust me!" she wept. "I want ye to! Won't you once +more? Please do! Won't ye forget that anything ever happened--won't ye?" + +For a moment her supplication almost unnerved him; but he thought of +their future, of the necessity of having unlimited faith and honor +between them, and again slowly shook his head. + +Suddenly the twisting hands worked themselves loose from his, and in +another instant her feverish arms tightly encircled his neck. By the +weight of Flea's body, Horace Shellington knew that her feet were no +longer on the floor, each muscle in the rigid girl having so well done +its part that she hung straight-limbed against him. Close to his face +drew hers, and for a space of time, the length of which he could never +afterward accurately measure, he forgot everything but the maddening +expression in her face. Her eyelids were closed, and her breath came hot +upon his lips. + +"I want ye to kiss me like ye did that night--kiss me--please--please--" +In her low voice was illimitable strength and passion. + +Like burning rivers, his blood was driven through his veins. He flung +out his arms and crushed her to him. Just then his lips found hers. + +"Dear God! How I--how I love you!" he breathed. + +Fledra's arms relaxed and slipped from his shoulders. + +"Then forget about what happened!" she panted. + +All the bitter apprehensions of the last week swept over him at her +words. His love battled with him, and he wavered. How gladly would he +have dispelled every doubt and listened to her pleading! + +"But I want you to tell me, Fledra." + +Flea backed slowly from him. + +"I can't.... I can't.... I can't tell anybody!" + +The man ran his fingers across his forehead in bewilderment. In his +bitter disappointment he turned away. + +"When you come to me," his voice broke into huskiness, "when you tell me +what happened that night before you saw my sister, I shall--I shall love +you--forever!" + +Then came a single moment of critical silence; but it needed only the +thought of Ann for the girl to toss aside his plea and turn upon her +heel. + +"I don't want Sister Ann to know that I love ye," she said sulkily. "Ye +won't tell her?" + +"No, no, of course not--not yet!" He dropped into his chair, his head +falling forward in his hands. "I wouldn't have believed," he said from +between his fingers, "that my love for you--" + +Flea stopped him with an interruption: + +"Are ye trying to stop lovin' me?" + +Horace shook his shoulders, lifting swift eyes to hers. He noted her +expression irrevocable in its decision of silence. She was +extraordinarily lovely, and he grew suddenly angry that he had not the +power to change her, to draw from her unresistingly the story she had +locked from his perusal. + +"Don't be foolish, Fledra!" he said quite harshly. "A man can't love and +unlove at will. I feel as if I should never know another happy moment!" + + * * * * * + +For several days Ann watched her brother in dismay. He had grown +taciturn and gloomy. The boyish energy had left him. She ventured to +speak to Everett about it. + +"He doesn't seem like the same boy at all," she said sadly, after +explaining. "I can't imagine what has caused the change in him." + +Everett remembered Shellington's face as it had bent over Fledra, and +smiled slightly. + +"Have you ever thought lately that he might be in love?" + +"In love!" gasped Ann. "No, I know that he isn't; for it was only at the +time of the Dryden Fair that he told me he cared for no one." + +"He might have changed since then," Everett said quizzically. + +"But he hasn't met anyone lately," argued Ann. "I know it isn't +Katherine; for--for he told me so." + +"I know someone he met at the fair." + +Ann, startled, glanced up. + +"Who? Do tell me, Everett! Don't stand there and smile so provokingly. +If you could only understand how I have worried over him!" + +Brimbecomb put on a grave face. + +"Haven't you a very pretty girl in the house who is constantly under his +eye?" + +Still Ann did not betray understanding. + +"Don't you think," asked Everett slowly, "that he might have fallen in +love with--this little Fledra?" + +An angry sparkle gleamed in Ann's eyes. + +"Don't be stupid, Everett. Why, she's only a child. It would be awful! +Horace has some sense of the fitness of things." + +Everett thought of the evening he himself had succumbed to a desire to +kiss Flea. + +"No man has that," he smiled, "when he is attracted toward a pretty +woman." + +"But she isn't even grown up." + +How little one woman understands another! In his eyes Fledra had +matured; for his masculinity had sought and found the natural opposite +forces of her sex. These thoughts he modified and voiced. + +"Not quite from your standpoint, Ann; but possibly from Horace's." + +Pale and distressed, Ann got to her feet. + +"Then--then, of course, she must go," she said with decision. "I can't +have him unhappy, and--Why, such a thing could--never be!" + +She could scarcely wait for Everett to depart; but suppressed her +anxiety and delicately turned the subject out of deference to Horace. +She listened inattentively as Brimbecomb explained some new cases that +he was soon to bring to court, and kissed him when he bade her +goodnight. Then, with beating heart, she sought her brother. + +Unsmilingly, Horace asked her to be seated. His face was so stern that +she dared not at once speak of the fears Brimbecomb had raised in her +mind; but at last she said: + +"Horace, I've been thinking since our last talk about the children--" +His sharp turn in the desk-chair interrupted her words; but she paused +only a moment before going on resolutely. "Don't you think that I might +put Floyd in a good private hospital where he would be taken care of, +and Fledra--" + +His face turned ashen. Her fears were strengthened, and, although her +conscience stung her, she continued, "Fledra's getting along so well +that I would be willing to put her in a boarding school." + +"Are you tired of them, Ann?" + +"Oh, no--no, far from that! I love them both; but I thought it might be +pleasanter for you, if we had our home to ourselves again." + +Horace looked at his sister intently. + +"Are you keeping something back from me, Ann?" he demanded. + +"Scarcely keeping anything from you, Dear; but I want you to be happy +and not to--" Horace rose in agitation, and quick tears blurred Ann's +sight. + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Dearest?" she concluded. + +"No!" + +Reluctantly she left him, troubled and perplexed. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + + +Lem Crabbe had cunningly planned to keep Scraggy under his eye and +follow her to the hiding place of their son. He realized that the lad +was a man now; but so much the better. He would obtain money from him, +or he would bring him back to the scow and make him a partner in his +trade. In spite of his wickedness, Lem had a strong longing for a sight +of his child. Many times he had meditated upon the days Scraggy had +lived in the barge, and, although he had no remorse for his cruelty to +her, he had regretted the death of his boy. To be with him, he would +have to tolerate the presence of Scraggy for awhile. He felt sure that +Flea had gone from him forever, and the loneliness of his home made him +shiver as he entered it a few nights after his conversation with +Scraggy. + +He had been in the boat but a few moments when he heard Lon's whistle +and called the squatter in. + +"I thought we'd make them plans for Tarrytown," Cronk said presently. +"We might as well get to work as to be lazin' about. Don't ye think so?" + +"Well, I were a thinkin' of stayin' here for awhile," stuttered Lem. + +"What for?" + +"Nothin' perticular." + +"Ye know where that rich duffer's house be what ye heard Middy Burnes +speak about?" + +"Yep. It ain't far from the graveyard. I thought as how we could crawl +in there while we was waitin' for night." + +A strange look passed across Lon's face. + +"Ye mean to hide in the cemetray?" he asked. + +"Yep. Be ye afeared?" + +"I ain't got no likin' for dead folks," muttered Cronk. + +He added nothing to this statement; but said after a moment's silence: + +"Scraggy ought to go dead herself some of these days, 'cause she's +allers a runnin' about in the storms. I see her ag'in tonight a startin' +out for another ja'nt. She had her bundle and her cat and was makin' a +bee line for Ithaca." + +Lem glanced up quickly. + +"I've changed my mind, Lon," he grunted. "I'll go to Tarrytown any day +yer ready." + +Accordingly, they took a week to prepare their burglar's kit, which they +had not used for sometime, and ten days after the slipping away of +Screech Owl, Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe left the squatter settlement and +made their way to Tarrytown. + + * * * * * + +The once happy household of the Shellingtons had turned into a gloomy +abode. Ann was nonplused at the strange behavior of her brother and the +unusual reserve of Flea. Floyd from his bedroom endeavored to bring the +home to its former cheerfulness; but, with all Ann's energies and the +boy's tireless tact, the change did not come. At length Miss Shellington +gave up trying to bring things to their usual routine. She spent her day +hours in helping Fledra with her school studies and giving Floyd simple +lessons at home. Everett came every evening, taking Ann from the +sickroom. This left Fledra free to study quietly beside her brother. + +One Thursday, after dinner, Horace went by invitation to Brimbecomb's +home to play billiards. Of late the young men had not passed much of +their time together; for business and the presence of Fledra and Floyd +in his house had given Horace less time for recreation. After a silent +game they sat down to smoke. For many minutes they puffed without +speaking. Everett finally opened the conversation. + +"It seems more like old times to be here together again." + +"Yes, I've missed our bouts, Everett." + +"You've been exasperatingly conservative with your time lately!" +complained Everett. "A fellow can't get sight of you unless your nose is +poked in a book or you're in court!" + +Horace laughed. + +"Really, I've been awfully busy since--" + +"Since the coming of your wonderful charges!" finished Brimbecomb. + +Horace scented a sneer. His ears grew hot with anger. + +"Ann has done more than I," he explained; "although there is nothing I +would not do." + +"I can't understand it at all, old man! Pardon me if I seem dense, but +it's almost an unheard-of thing for a fellow in your and Ann's positions +to fill your home with--beggars." His voice was low, with an inquiring +touch in it. Having gained no satisfaction from Miss Shellington, he was +seeking information from Horace. + +"We don't think of either one of them as beggars," interjected Horace. +"Both Ann and I have grown very fond of them." + +In former days the two young men had been on terms of intimacy. Everett +presumed now upon that friendship by speaking plainly: + +"Are you going to keep them much longer?" he asked. + +Horace allowed his lids to droop slowly, and looked meditatively at the +end of his cigarette without replying. + +"I have a reason for asking," Everett added. + +"And may I ask your reason?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. The fact is, I'm rather interested in them myself. I +thought--" + +Horace lifted his eyes, and the man opposite noted that they had grown +darker, that they sparkled angrily. Everett was desirous of satisfying +himself whether Horace did, or did not, care for the young girl he was +sheltering. + +"They don't need your interest so far as a home is concerned," Horace +said at last. + +Everett's face darkened as he mused: + +"They're lowly born, and such people were made for our servants, and not +our equals. If the women are pretty, they might act as playthings." + +Horace turned his eyes toward the speaker wrathfully. He wondered if he +had understood correctly what was implied by the other's words. + +"What did you say, Brimbecomb?" + +Everett drew his left leg over his right knee deliberately. + +"I think the girl pretty enough to make a capital toy for an hour," said +he. + +Disbelief flooded Shellington's face. + +"You're joking! You're making a jest of a sacred thing, Brimbecomb!" + +Everett recalled former principles of the boy Horace, and a smile +flickered on his lips. + +"I can't concede that," said he. "I think with a great man of whom I +read once. Deal honestly with men in business, was his maxim, keep a +clean record with your fellow citizens; but, as far as strange women are +concerned, treat them as you wish. It's a man's privilege to--to lie to +them, in fact." + +Without looking up, Horace broke in: + +"Ann has an excellent outlook for happiness, hasn't she?" + +"We weren't talking about Ann," snapped Everett. "I was especially +thinking of the girl in your home, who belongs leagues beneath where +you have placed her. I won't have her there! I think my position is such +that I can make certain demands on the family of the woman I'm going to +marry." + +"To the devil with your position! I wouldn't give a damn for it, and +I'll take up your first question, Brimbecomb. You asked me how long I +intended to keep those children. This is my answer! As long as they will +stay, and longer if I can make them!" His voice rang vibrant with +passion. "Don't let your position interfere with what I am doing; for, +if you do, Ann, friendship, or anything won't deter me from--" + +Brimbecomb rose to his feet and faced the other. + +"Threats are not in order," said he. + +His deliberate speech made Horace turn upon him. + +"I, too, intend to marry!" was his answer. "I intend to marry--Fledra +Cronk!" + +Brimbecomb ejaculated in anger. + +"If you will be a fool," said he, "it's time your friends took a hand in +your affairs. I think Governor Vandecar will have something to say about +that!" + +"No more than you have," warned Horace. "The only regret I have is that +Ann has chosen you for her husband. I'm wondering what she would say if +I repeated tonight's conversation to her--as to a man lying to a woman." + +"She wouldn't believe you," replied Everett. + +"And you would deny that you so believed?" + +"Yes. I told you it was my right to lie to a woman." + +"Then, by God! you're a greater dog than I thought you! Let me get out +of here before I smash your face!" + +Everett's haughty countenance flamed red; but he stepped aside, and +Horace, shaking with rage, left the house. + +"I think I've given him something to think about," muttered Everett. +"He won't be surprised by anything I do now, and I've protected myself +with Ann against him, too." + + * * * * * + +It was only when alone with Everett that Ann felt completely at her +ease. Then she threw aside the shadow that many times dismayed her and +looked forward to her wedding day, which was to come in May. This +evening she was sitting with her betrothed under the glow of a red +chandelier. + +"You know, Ann, I haven't given up the idea of finding my own family," +said Brimbecomb presently. "The more I work at law, the more I believe I +shall find a way to unearth them. I told Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb that I +intended to spend part of my next year looking for them. Mrs. Brimbecomb +said she didn't know the name under which I was born. I'm convinced that +I shall find them." + +"I hope you do, Dear." + +"You don't blame me, do you, Ann, for wanting to know to whom I'm +indebted for life?" + +"No," answered Ann slowly; "although it might not make you any happier. +That is what I most wish for you, Dearest--complete happiness." + +Everett lifted her delicate fingers and kissed them. + +"I shall have that when you are my wife," he said smoothly. + +Later he asked, "Did you speak with Horace of the matter that worried +you, Ann?" + +Miss Shellington sighed. + +"Not in a personal way," she replied; "but I really think there is more +than either you or I know. Fledra never puts herself in Horace's way any +more; in fact, they have both changed very much." + +"Possibly he has told her that he cares for her, and she has--" + +Ann shifted from him uneasily. "If Horace loves her, and has told her +so, she could not help but love him in return. She is really growing +thin with hard work, poor baby!" + +"Does she love Horace?" sounded Everett. + +"I can't tell, although I have watched her very closely." + +A strange grip caught Everett's heart. He could not think of the small, +dark girl without a pang of emotion. He had made no effort to see +Fledra; yet he was constantly wishing that chance would throw her in his +path. Later, he intended in some way to bring about another interview. +He dared not write her a letter, although he had gone so far as to begin +one to her, but in disgust at himself had torn it up. The fact that +Horace was unhappy pleased him, now that they had become antagonistic. + +The mystery clinging to Fledra haloed her for Everett beyond the point +of interest. + +"Ann," he said suddenly, "you haven't told me much about those +children--I mean of their past lives." + +"We know so little," she replied reservedly. + +"But more than you have told me. Have they parents living?" + +"A father, I think," murmured Ann. + +"And no mother?" + +"No." + +"Do you know where their father is?" + +"He lives near Ithaca, so we're told." After a silence she continued, +"We want them to forget--to forget, ourselves, all about their former +lives. I asked Horace if he wanted to place them in schools; but he +didn't want them to go away. As long as they are as good as they have +been, they're welcome to stay. Poor little things, they're nothing more +than babies, not yet sixteen!" + +"The girl looks older," commented Everett. + +"That's because she's suffered more than most girls do. I'm afraid +it'll be a long time before Floyd is completely well." + +The conversation then drifted to that happy spring day when they would +be married. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + + +From the window of the drawing-room in his home Everett threw a glance +into Sleepy Hollow and listened to the wind weeping its tale of death +through the barren trees. The tall monuments were as spectral giants, +while here and there a guarding granite figure reared its ghostly +proportions. But the weird scenery caused no stir of superstition in the +lawyer. + +In hesitation, Everett stood for some seconds, the snow falling silently +about him; for he was still under the mood that had come upon him during +Ann's parrying of his curiosity concerning the squatter children. As he +paused, the Great Dane, in the kennel at the back of the house, sent out +a hoarse bark, followed by a deep growl. So well trained was the dog +that nothing save an unfamiliar step or the sight of a stranger brought +forth such demonstrations. Everett knew this, and walked into the +garden, spoke softly to the animal, and, noting nothing unusual, ran up +the back steps. The door opened under his touch, and he stepped in. The +maids were in the chambers at the top of the house, and quietude reigned +about him. The young master went into the drawing-room, stirred the +grate fire, and sat down with a book. For many moments his eyes did not +seek its pages. His meditations took shape after shape; until, dreaming, +he allowed the book to rest on his knees. + +Everett was perfectly satisfied with his success as a lawyer. He had +proved to others of his profession in the surrounding county that he was +an orator of no little ability and preëminently able to hold his own in +the courtroom. + +He could not have desired or chosen a better wife than Ann promised to +be; but something riotous in his blood made him dissatisfied with +affairs as they stood now. Manlike, he reflected that, if he had been +allowed to caress Fledra as he had desired, he would have been content +to have gone on his way. He wondered many times why his heart had turned +from Ann to another. Something in every thought of Fledra Cronk sent his +blood tingling and set his heart to leaping. His dreams melted into +pleasurable anticipations, and he tried to imagine the windings of his +future path. Chance had always been kind, and he wondered whether an +opportunity to win the affections of the small, defiant girl in the +Shellington home would be given him. A strain in his blood called for +her absolute subjection--and, subdue her he would; for he felt that an +invincible passion slept in her tempestuous spirit. + +Suddenly, from the direction of the cemetery, an owl sent out a mournful +cry, and a furious baying from the dog behind the house sounded. He +rose, walked to the window, and surveyed the bleak view through the +curtains. He again noted the tall trees threshing in the wind, and the +looming monuments. Still under the spell of pleasant day-dreams, Everett +silently contemplated the gloomy aspect. He had forgotten the owl and +its harsh cry. + +So deeply was he engrossed in his meditations that he did not hear the +stealthy turning of the door-handle, and it was not until a distinct +hiss reached his ears that he turned. A woman, dripping with water, her +gray hair hanging in wet strings about a withered face, stole toward +him. Everett was so taken aback by the sight of her and the hissing, +cross-eyed cat perched on her shoulder that he could not speak. A newly +born superstition rose in his heart that the woman was a wraith. Yet an +indistinct memory made her black eyes familiar. He did not move from the +window, and Screech Owl sank to the floor. + +"Little 'un," she whispered, "I've comed for ye, little 'un!" + +The sound of her hoarse voice stirred Everett's senses. He gave one step +forward, and the woman spoke again: + +"I telled yer pappy that I'd bring ye!" + +Brimbecomb shook his shoulders, his dread deepening. What was the +witch-like woman saying to him, and why was she calling him by the name +he now remembered she had used before? She crept nearer on her knees, +her thin hands held up as if in prayer, and, with each swaying movement +of her the cat shifted its position from one stooped shoulder to the +other. + +Everett found his voice, and asked sharply: + +"How did you get into the house?" + +Scraggy put up her arm, drew the snarling cat under it, and looked +stupidly at the man. She was so close that he could see the steam rising +from her wet clothes, and the hisses of the animal were audible above +his own heavy breathing. Screech Owl smoothed the cat's bristling back. + +"Pussy ain't to hiss at my own pretty boy!" she whispered. "He's my +little 'un--he's my little 'un!" + +A premonition, born of her words, goaded Everett to action. + +"Get up!" he ordered. "Get up and get out of here! Do you want me to +have you arrested?" + +Scraggy smiled. + +"Ye wouldn't have yer own mother pinched, little 'un. I'm yer mammy! +Don't ye know me?" + +He moved threateningly toward her; but a snarl from the furious cat +stayed him. + +"You lie! You crazy fool! Get up, or I'll kick you out of the house! Get +out, I say! Every word you've uttered is a lie!" + +"I don't lie," cried Scraggy. "Ye be my boy. Ain't ye got a long dig on +ye from--from yer neck to yer arm--a red cut yer pappy made that night I +gived ye to the Brimbecomb woman? The place were a bleedin' and a +bleedin' all through your baby dress. Wait! I'll show ye where it is." +She scrambled up and advanced toward him. + +Everett made as if to strike her. + +"Get back, I say! I would hate you if you were my mother! You can't fool +me with your charlatan tricks!" + +The woman sank down, whimpering. + +Again Everett sprang forward; but again the cat drove him back. + +"Go--go--now!" he muttered. "I can't bear the sight of you!" + +There were tones in his voice that reminded Scraggy of Lem, and her +heart grew tender as she thought of the father waiting for his child. + +"Ye won't hate yer pappy, if he does hate me. He wants ye, little 'un. +I've come to take ye back to yer hum. He won't hurt ye no more." + +Everett stared at her wildly. Was the delicious mystery that had +surrounded him for so many years, which had occupied his mind hour upon +hour, to end in this? He would not have it so! + +"Get up, then," he said, his lips whitening, "and tell me what you have +to say." + +Scraggy lifted herself up. Her boy wanted to hear more about his father, +she thought. + +"I gived ye to the pretty lady with the golden hair when yer pappy hurt +ye, and I knowed ye again; for the Brimbecomb's name was on the boat +that took ye. Yer pappy didn't know ye were a livin' till a little +while ago, and he wants ye now." + +"Were you married to him, this man you call my father?" demanded +Everett. + +Scraggy shook her head. + +"But that don't make ye none the less his'n, an' ye be goin' with me, ye +be!" + +Everett no longer hoped that the woman was either mistaken or lying. The +stamp of truth was on all she had said. He knew in his heart that he was +in the presence of his mother--this ragged human thing with wild, dark +eyes and straggling hair. And somewhere he had a father who was as evil +as she looked. For years Everett had struggled against the bad in his +nature; but at that moment he lost all the remembrance of the lessons of +his youth, of the goodness taught him by his foster father and mother. +It flashed into his mind how embarrassed Mrs. Brimbecomb had been when +he had constantly brought up the subject of his own family, and how +impatiently Mr. Brimbecomb had waved aside his petitions for +information. They should never know that he had found out the secret of +his birth, and he breathed thanks that they were not now in Tarrytown. +Neither Ann nor Horace should ever learn of the stain upon him; but the +girl with the black curls should make good to him the suffering of his +new-found knowledge! She came of a stock like himself, of blood in which +there was no good. + +Everett forgot the dripping woman before him as a dark thought leaped +into his mind. He could now be at ease with his conscience! Of a sudden, +he felt himself sink from the radius of Horace Shellington's life--down +to the birth level of the boy and girl next door. It dawned upon him, as +his mind swept back over his boyhood days, that Horace had ever been +better than he, with a natural abhorrence against evil. + +[Illustration: "LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!"] + +When Scraggy again spoke, he turned burning eyes upon her. How he hated +her, and how he hated the man who called himself his father, wherever he +might be! He shut his teeth with a grit, and, unmindful of the cat, bent +over Screech Owl. He forced her head so far back that she moaned and +loosened her hold upon Black Pussy, who sprang snarling into the corner. + +"If you ever repeat that story to anyone, that I'm your son, I'll kill +you! Now go!" + +Scraggy began to cry weakly, and Black Pussy howled as if in sympathy. + +"Shut up, and keep that cat quiet! You'll draw down the servants. Now +listen to me! You say you're my mother--but, if you ever breathe it to +anyone, or come round here again, I shall certainly kill you!" + +The thoughts began to scurry wildly in Scraggy's head. Everett's threat +to kill her had not penetrated the demented brain, and his rough +handling had been her only fright. She could think of nothing but that +Lem was waiting for them at the scow. + +She dragged herself away from Everett, and with a torn skirt wiped her +ghastly face. She dropped the rag to grope dazedly for the cat, and +whispered: + +"Ye can do anything ye want to with yer ole mammy, if ye'll come back +with me to Ithaca!" + +"Ithaca, Ithaca!" Everett repeated dazedly. "Was that child you spoke of +born in Ithaca?" + +"Yep, on Cayuga Lake." + +"Get up, get up, or I'll--I'll--" His voice came faintly to Screech Owl, +and she moaned. + +The man's mind went back to his Cornell days when he had been considered +one of the richest boys in the university. His sudden degradation, the +falling of his family air-castles, made him double his fists--and with +his blow Scraggy dropped into a motionless heap. + +His bloodshot eyes took in her prostrate form, guarded by the fluffed +black cat, and his one thought was to kill her--to obliterate her +entirely from his life. He stepped nearer, and Black Pussy's ferocious +yowl was the only remonstrance as he stirred Scraggy roughly with his +foot. + +The thought that her boy did not want to go with her coursed slowly +through the woman's brain. She knew that without him Lem would not +receive her. She longed for the warmth of the homely scow; she wanted +Lem and the boy--oh, how she wanted them both! She half-rose and lunged +forward. Brimbecomb's next blow fell upon her upturned face, stunning +her as she would have made a final appeal. The woman fell to the floor +unconscious, and Everett kicked Black Pussy into the hall. There was a +snarling scramble, and when he opened the front door the cross-eyed cat +bounded out into the night. + +Everett returned hastily to the drawing-room after a covert search of +the hall for disturbers. In the doorway he hovered an instant, and then +advanced quickly to the figure on the floor. Lifting the limp woman, he +bore her out of the house and down the slushy steps. With strength that +had come through the madness of his new knowledge, he threw the body +over into the graveyard and bounded after it. Once more then he took +Scraggy up, and, stumbling frequently in the half-light, carried her to +the upper end of the cemetery. Here he deposited the body in a +snow-filled gully by a vault. Ten minutes later he was staring at his +mirrored reflection in his own room, convinced that, if he had not +already killed her, the woman would be dead from exposure before +morning. The cat had disappeared, and all traces of the night's +visitation had been removed. + + * * * * * + +Several hours before, Lem Crabbe and Lon Cronk had slunk into Tarrytown. +The snow still fell heavily when they made their preparations to enter +the home of Horace Shellington. About five in the afternoon they had +worked their way against this sharp north wind to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and had entered it. Until night should fall and sleep overtake the city, +they planned to remain there quietly. Not far from the fence they took +up their station in an unused toolhouse, smoking the next hours away in +silence. + +When ten o'clock neared, Lem stole out; but he came back almost +immediately, cursing the wild night in superstitious fear. + +"The wind's full of shriekin' devils, Lon," he said, "and 'tain't time +for us to go out. Be ye afeard to try it, old man?" + +"Nope," replied the other; "but I wish we had that cuss of a Flukey to +open up them doors, or else Eli was here. This climbin' in windows be +hard on a big man like me and you with yer hook, Lem." + +Lem grunted. + +"I'll soon have a boy what'll take a hand in things, with us, Lon," he +said, presently. "I ain't sayin' nothin' jest yet; but when ye see him +ye'll be glad to have him." + +"Whose boy be he?" demanded Lon. + +"Ain't goin' to tell." + +Lon ceased questioning, dismissing the subject with a suggestion that he +himself should reconnoiter the ground. He left Lem, groped his way among +the gravestones for several yards, and brought up abruptly at the fence. +From here he eyed the Brimbecomb mansion for some minutes; then he cast +his glance to the steps of the Shellington home beyond. After a few +seconds a young man ran down the stairs, and Lon slunk back to Lem in +the toolhouse. An instant later both men were startled by the cry of an +owl. Lem rose uneasily, while Lon stared into the darkness. + +"That weren't a real owl, were it, Lon?" Lem muttered. + +"Nope," growled Lon; "it sounded more like Scraggy." + +He looked at the one-armed man with suspicion. + +"Can't prove it by me," said Lem darkly. + +"Do ye know where she ever goes to?" demanded Cronk. + +Lem shook his head in negation. + +Crabbe dared not venture out again alone; for apprehension rose strong +within him. He knew that Scraggy had left the settlement to find their +boy. Had she come to Tarrytown for him? The two men crouched low, and +talked no more during some minutes. Finally, Lon, bidding Lem follow +him, lifted his big body, and they left the toolhouse. The squatter led +the way to the fence. They stood there for a time watching in silence. +Two shadows appeared upon a curtain of the house before them. A man was +lifting a woman in his arms, and the downward fall of her head gave +evidence of her unconsciousness. As the front door opened, the squatter +and the scowman retreated to their quarters. When Everett Brimbecomb +threw the body of Screech Owl into the cemetery, both were peering out. +They saw the man carry the figure off into the shadows, marking that he +returned alone. Neither knew that the other was Scraggy; but, with a +lust for mystery and evil, they slipped out with no word. Lon made off +to view the Shellington home once more, and Lem disappeared in the +direction from which Everett had come, easily following the tracks in +the snow. Coming within sight of the vault, Lem rounded it fearfully. On +the ground he saw the woman, and as he looked she rose to a sitting +position. + +Screech Owl was just recovering her battered senses. She was still +dazed, and had not heard the scowman's footsteps, nor did she now hear +the mutterings in his throat. Faintly she called to Black Pussy; but, +receiving no response from the cat, she crawled deeper into the shadows +of the vault and tried to think. Her fitful whining brought Lem from his +hiding place. + +"Be that you, Owl?" he whispered. + +"Yep. Where be the black cat?" + +"I dunno. Where ye been? And how'd ye get here?" + +Scraggy leaned back against the marble vault in exhaustion. + +"I dunno. Where be I now?" + +Lem bent nearer her, shaking her arm roughly. + +"Ye be in Tarrytown. Did ye come here for the brat?" + +"What brat be ye talkin' 'bout, Lem?" + +"Our'n, Screechy. Weren't ye here lookin' for him?" + +Through the darkness Lem could not see the crazed expression that +flashed over Scraggy's face. She thrust her fingers in her hair and +shivered. The blow of Everett's fist had banished all memory of the boy +from her mind; but Lem lived there as vividly as in the olden days. + +"We ain't got no boy, Lem," she said mournfully. + +"Ye said we had, Screechy, and I know we have. Now, get up out of that +there snow, or ye'll freeze." + +The scowman helped Screech Owl to her feet, and supported her back over +the graves to the toolhouse. + +"Ye stay here till I come for ye, Scraggy, and don't ye dare go 'way no +place. Do ye hear?" + +Screech Owl uttered an obedient assent, and Lem left her with a threat +that he would beat her if she moved from the spot. Then he crawled along +the Brimbecomb fence, and saw Lon leaning against a tree, some distance +down the road. + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + + +After Everett's departure, Ann tripped into Floyd's room in a happier +state of mind than had been hers for several days. It had been her habit +to kneel beside the boy at night and send up a petition for his +recovery. Now she would thank God for his goodness to her,--Everett had +come to be more like himself, and Floyd's welcoming smile sent a thrill +of joy through her. As Ann entered, Fledra looked up from her book. Her +pale, beseeching face drew Miss Shellington to her. + +"Fledra dear, you study too late and too hard. You don't look at all +well." + +"I keep tellin' her that same thing, Sister Ann," said Floyd; "but she +keeps mutterin' over them words till I know 'em myself." + +Miss Shellington turned Fledra's face up to hers, smoothing down the +dark curls. + +"Go to bed, child; you're absolutely tired out. Kiss me goodnight, +Dear." + +Fledra loitered in the hall until she heard Miss Shellington leave +Floyd; then she stole forward. + +"Will you come to my room a little while, Sister Ann?" + +Without a word, Ann took the girl's hand; together they entered the blue +room. + +Fledra wheeled about upon Miss Shellington, when the door had been, +closed. + +"Do you believe all those things you pray about, Sister Ann?" she +appealed brokenly. + +Ann questioned Fledra with a look; the girl made clearer her demand by +adding: + +"Do you believe that Jesus hears you when you ask Him something you want +very, very bad?" + +She looked so miserable, so frail and lonely, that Ann put her arms +about her. + +"Sit down here with me, Fledra. There! Put your little tired head right +here, and I'll tell you all I can." + +"I want to be helped!" murmured Fledra. + +"I've known that for sometime," Ann said softly; "and I'm so happy that +you've come to me!" + +"It's nothin' you can do; but I was thinkin' that perhaps Jesus could do +it." + +Ann pressed the girl closer. + +"Is it something you can't tell me?" + +Fledra nodded. + +"And you can't tell my brother?" + +The girl's nervous start filled Ann with dismay; for now she knew that +the trouble rested with Horace. She waited for an answer to her +question, and at length Fledra, crestfallen, blurted out: + +"I can't tell anybody but--" + +"Jesus?" whispered Ann. + +"Yes; and I don't know how to tell Him." + +Ann thought a moment. + +"Fledra, if you wanted someone to do something for you, about which that +person knew nothing, wouldn't you have to tell it before it could be +granted?" + +Fledra nodded. + +"Then, that's what you are to do tonight. You are to kneel down here +when I am gone, and you are to feel positively sure that God will help, +if you ask Him in Jesus' name. Do you think you have faith enough to do +that?" + +"I don't know what faith is," replied Fledra in a whisper. + +"I'll tell you what it is, Dear. Now, then, don't you remember how my +brother and I prayed for Floyd?" + +Fledra pressed Ann's arm. + +"And don't you remember, Dear, that almost immediately he was helped?" + +"You had a doctor," said Fledra slowly. + +"Yes, for a doctor is God's agent for the good of mankind; but we had +faith, too. And in something like this--Is your trouble illness?" + +"Only here," answered Flea, laying her hand upon her heart. + +Ann could not force Flea's confidence; so she said: + +"Then if it is impossible to confide in Horace, or in me, will you pray +tonight, fully believing that you will be answered? You must remember +how much Jesus loved you to come down to suffer and die for you." + +"I don't believe I thought that story was true, Sister Ann." Fledra drew +back, and looked up into Ann's shocked face as she spoke, "I shouldn't +say I believed it if I didn't, should I?" + +"No, Darling; but you must believe--you surely must! You must promise me +that you will pray first for faith, then for relief, and tomorrow you +will feel better." + +"I promise," answered Fledra. + +For many minutes after Ann had left her, the girl lay stretched out upon +the bed. Her heart pained her until it seemed that she must go directly +to Horace and confess her secret. + +She got up slowly at last, and, kneeling, began a whispered petition. It +was broken by sobs and falling tears, by writhings that tore the tender +soul offering it. + +Fledra prayed for Horace, and then stopped. + +After a time she rose, having done all a girl could do for those she +loved, and, undressing, slowly crawled into bed. Through the darkness as +she lay looking upward she tried to imagine what kind of a being God +was, wondering if He were kindly visaged, or if, when His earthly +children sinned, He looked as Horace had looked when she confessed the +lie told to Ann. In her imagination, she framed the Savior of the world +like unto the man she loved when he smiled upon her, and then she +believed, and believed mightily. In likening Jesus to Horace--in +bringing the Savior nearer through the lineaments of her loved one--she +gathered out of her unbelief a great belief that He could, and would, +smooth away all the troubles that had arisen in her life. + + * * * * * + +That night she turned and tossed for several hours, praying and weeping, +weeping and praying, until from sheer fatigue she lay perfectly quiet. +Suddenly she sat up and listened. The stupor of slumber dulled her +hearing, and she struggled to catch again the sound that had awakened +her. From somewhere across the hall she heard a faint click, click, +which sounded as though some mechanic's tool were being used. + +Fledra slipped from the bed and opened the door stealthily. She crept +along the hall in her bare feet, terrified by the muffled sound, and +stopped before the velvet curtains that were drawn closely across the +dining-room doorway. Someone was tampering with the silver chest. + +For a moment terror almost forced Fledra back to her room without +investigating; but the thought that somebody was stealing Ann's precious +family plate caused her to slip her fingers between the curtains and +peep in. + +The lock of the steel safe was lighted by the rays of a dark-lantern, +and Fledra could see two shadowy figures on the floor before it. One +held the light, while the other turned a small hammer machine containing +a slender drill. The girl did not have the courage to scream a warning +to Horace and the servants, and before she could move of a sudden one of +the men whispered: + +"The damn thing is harder'n hell, Lem. I guess I'll take a crack at this +here hinge." + +The name awoke the senses of the trembling girl, and instantly she knew +the man who had spoken to be Lon Cronk. A chill gathered round her heart +and froze the very marrow in her bones. She dropped the curtain and fled +back to her room. Standing against the door, she pressed her hands over +her face to stifle the loud breathing. Lem and Lon were robbing the +house! She would be forced then to let thieves have the contents of the +safe; for, if Pappy Lon knew that she and Flukey were housed there, he +would take them away. But, if he made off with the plate, no one would +ever know who had done it, and her sick brother would still be safe in +Ann's care. + +"I won't go to 'em. I won't! I won't! They can take the whole thing for +all of me!" + +She turned sharply as though she had heard a voice that had made answer +to her. With her faculties benumbed by the terror of the men in the +dining-room, and yet remembering that her grief had been subdued, she +turned her face upward, and fancied she saw the Christ-man, so like +Horace, descending into the room. But the face, instead of smiling at +her, looked melancholy and sad. + +It was the dawn of a lasting belief in the Son of God, her first real +vision of Him. She gazed steadily at the beautiful apparition, and then +said haltingly: + +"I'm goin' back to stop 'em, and if Pappy Lon takes me back to the +squatter settlement then help me if ye can, dear Jesus!" + +The struggle was over, and with rigid desperation Fledra again opened +the door and stepped into the hall. Gliding swiftly along to the +entrance of the dining-room, she flung aside the curtains and appeared +like a shade before Lem and Lon. + +The squatter saw her first; but in the semidarkness did not recognize +her. He lifted his arm, and a flash of steel sent her trembling +backward. + +"Don't open yer mug, Kid, or I'll shoot yer head off!" + +Then he recognized her, and stepped back to Lem's side. + +"It's Flea, it's Flea Cronk!" he gasped. + +The girl advanced into the room. + +"What do you want here, Pappy Lon? Did you come to steal?" + +She saw Lem grimacing at her through the rays of the lantern. The +scowman looked so evil, so awful, as he grinningly raised his steel +hook, that her faith very nearly fled. Crabbe's heavy face was working +with violent emotion. His full neck moved with horrid convulsions, while +a discord of low noises came from his throat. The girl, clad in her +white nightgown, under which he could trace the slender body, filled him +again with passionate longing. + +"By God! it's little Flea!" he exclaimed at last. + +"Yep," threw back Lon. "We found somethin' we didn't expect--eh, Lem?" + +"Did you come to steal?" Fledra demanded again, this time looking at the +canalman. + +"Yep; but we didn't know that you was here, Flea." + +"Then you won't take anything--now, will you?" + +"We don't go till you come with us, Flea!" Lon moved nearer her as he +spoke. "Ye be my brat, and ye'll come home with yer pappy!" + +Fledra choked for breath. + +"I can't go with you tonight," she replied, bending over in +supplication. "Flukey's sick here, and I have to stay." + +"Sick! Sick, ye say?" Cronk exclaimed. + +"Yes, he's been in bed ever since we left home, and he can't walk, and I +won't go without him." + +"I'll take ye both," said Lon ferociously. "I'll come after ye, and I'll +kill the man what keeps ye away from me! I'm a thinkin' a man can have +his own brats!" + +Fledra did not set up an argument upon this point. She wanted to get the +men out of the house, so that she might think out a plan to save her +brother and herself. + +"Ye'll have to let Flukey stay until he gets well, and then mebbe we'll +come back." + +"There ain't no mebbe about it," growled Lon. "Ye'll come when I say it, +and Lem ain't through with ye yet, nuther! Be ye, Lem?" + +Never, since the children had left his hut, had Lon felt such a desire +to torture them. The dead woman seemed to call out to him for revenge. +The wish for the Shellington baubles and the money he might find was +nothing compared to the delight he would feel in dragging the twins back +to Ithaca. Granny Cronk was there no longer, and everything would go his +way! He put out his hand and touched Crabbe. + +"We ain't goin' to steal nothin' in this house, Lem," he said sullenly; +"but I'll come tomorry and take the kids. Then we be done with this +town. Ye'll get yer brother ready by tomorry mornin'. Ye hear, Flea?" + +"Yes," answered Flea dully. + +"If Flukey be too sick to walk, he can ride. I've got the money, and all +I want be you two brats, and, if ye don't come when I tell ye to, then +it'll be worse for them what's harborin' ye. And don't ye so much as +breathe to the man what owns this house that we was here +tonight--or--I'll kill Flukey when I get him back to the shanty!" + +His glance took in the beautiful room, and, unable to suppress a smile, +he taunted: + +"I'm a thinkin' ye'll see a difference 'tween the hut and this +place--eh, Flea?" + +"And between this and the scow," chuckled Lem. + +"Yep, 'tween this an' the scow," repeated Lon. "Come on, Lem. We'll go +now, an' tomorry we'll come for ye, Flea. No man ain't no right to keep +another man's kids." + +Fledra's past experiences with her squatter father were still so vivid +in her mind that she made no further appeal to him; for she feared to +suffer again the humiliation of a blow before Lem. She stood near the +table, shivering, her teeth chattering, and her body swaying with fright +and cold. To whom did she dare turn? Not to Ann or to Horace; for Lon +had forbidden it. To tell Flukey would only make him very ill again. Lon +was advancing toward her as these thoughts raced through her mind. She +drew back when he thrust out one of his horny hands. + +"I ain't a goin' to hit ye, Flea; but I'm goin' to make ye know that I +ain't goin' to have no foolin', and that ye belong to me, and so does +Flukey, and that, when I come for ye, ye're to have yer duds ready." + +Lem neared the open window, and Lon turned to follow him. + + * * * * * + +For fully three minutes after they had gone, the girl stood watching the +black hole through which they had disappeared, where now the snow came +fluttering in. Then she crept forward and lowered the window +noiselessly. With swift footsteps she ran back through the hall and into +the bedroom. After turning on the light, she drew on a dressing-gown and +slipped her feet into a pair of red slippers. + +Somewhere from the story above came the sound of footfalls, and then +the creaking of stairs. The girl stood holding her hand over her beating +heart. A servant, or possibly Ann, had heard the noises and was coming +down. Suddenly into her mind came the prayer Floyd loved. + +"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little child." + +She said the words over several times; but had ceased whispering when a +low knock came upon her door. She opened it, and saw Horace standing in +his dressing-gown and slippers. For a moment she looked at him with +almost unseeing eyes, and her lips moved tremulously, as if she would +speak and could not. Horace, noticing her agitation, spoke first. + +"Fledra, I thought I heard you. I looked down and saw a light shining +from your window. Is anything the matter?" + +Fledra could not find her voice to reply. She had not expected him, and, +locking her fingers tightly together, she stood wide-lidded and +trembling. + +"Were you speaking to someone?" asked Horace. + +"Yes, I was. I was speaking to Jesus just before you came. I was asking +Him to help me." + +The man looked at the red gown hanging over her white nightrobe, the +tossed black curls, and the pale, sensitive face before he said: + +"Fledra, whatever is the matter with you? Surely, there is something I +can do." + +"Sister Ann said I would be happier, and we all would, if I asked Jesus; +and I was askin' Him jest now." + +Horace eyed her dubiously. + +"It is right to ask Him to help you, of course; but, child, it isn't +right for you to act toward me as you do." + +Fledra was so desirous of his love and confidence that she made as if to +speak. She took two steps forward, then hesitated. Remembering Ann and +the care she had given Floyd, her hand fell convulsively on the door, +and she tried to close it. She dared not tell him of Lon's midnight +visit to the home, and wondered if he would give her up to her squatter +father, and let Flukey be taken back to the settlement. + +"I told ye the truth when I said I was prayin'," she said; "but I was +thinkin', too, if it was right for a father to have his own children, if +he was to ask for 'em." + +Horace, not understanding her enigmatical words, regarded her gravely. + +"What a queer girl you are, anyway, Fledra!" he exclaimed. He spoke +almost irritably. He felt like grasping her up and shaking her as one +might an obstreperous child. + +His moody silence made Fledra repeat her words. + +"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Horace answered; "but, I suppose, +if a father's children were being kept from him, he could take them if +he wished. Fledra, look at me!" + +She raised her gaze slowly, her somber eyes smiting the watching man as +might a blow. Her beseeching expression arrested the bitter speech that +rose to his lips. As the memory of her hard work gripped him, he bent +forward and took her slim, cold hand in his. + +"Fledra, I want you to pay attention to what I am going to say. I feel +sure that you want to be a good girl. If I were not, I could not bear +it. Even if you don't trust me, I'm going to help you all I can, +anyway." + +"And pray," gasped Fledra, "pray, Brother Horace, that I can be just +what you want me to be, and that I can stay with Floyd in your house!" + +The girl closed the door quickly in his face, and Shellington moved +slowly away, racking his brain for some solution of the problem. + +With their minds in a perturbed state, Lem and Lon passed silently back +into the cemetery. The shock of the girl's appearance had awed them +both. They were nearing the toolhouse before Scraggy came into Lem's +mind. + +The whole situation was changed, now that Flea was coming to him. It was +the same to him whether she wanted to come or not; nor did it matter +that he had promised Screech Owl that she should be in the scow. He +still wanted his boy to help him with his work; but Scraggy was a person +wholly out of his life. + +The two men halted in front of the shed. + +"There be a woman in there," said Lem in a low voice. + +"What woman?" asked Lon. + +"Scraggy." + +"Scraggy! How'd she come in here?" + +"I took her in," said Lem. "She were the woman what that guy throwed +over the fence." + +Lon pushed his companion aside and pressed through the small doorway. He +cast the light of the lantern about; but no Screech Owl was in sight. + +"If Scraggy was over here, Lem," he said doubtfully, "then she's gone. +We'd better scoot and get a place to stay all night." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + + +When Fledra entered the breakfast room it was evident to both Ann and +Horace that she had had no sleep. Dark rings had settled under her eyes. +The girl had decided that Lon would make good his threat against the +person who should try to keep his children from him, and, if she went to +school, Lem and her father might come when she was gone. As they rose +from the table, she said sullenly: + +"I'm not goin' to school any more. I don't like that place. I want to +stay at home." + +"Are you ill, Dear?" asked Ann, coming forward. + +"No, I'm not sick; but I can't go to school." + +Horace's brow darkened. + +"That's hardly the way to speak to my sister, Fledra," he chided gently. + +Ann glanced at him in appeal. Fledra was standing before them, and her +eyes dropped under his words. + +"If I asked you to let me stay home," she said in a low tone, "you'd +both say I couldn't; so I just had to say that I won't go." + +Fledra knew no other way to stand guard over the houseful of loved ones. +If Lon were to come while she was gone, he might take her brother. If +she told Horace that thieves had entered his home, and if she named +them, that would draw fatal consequences down on Floyd. She could only +hold her peace and let matters take their course. At any rate, she did +not intend to go to school. Now she cast a quick glance at Ann; but kept +her eyes studiously from Horace. Noting Miss Shellington's entreating +face, Fledra flung out her hands. + +"I didn't want to be mean," she said quickly; "but I want you to let me +stay home today. Can I? Please, can I?" + +"There! I knew that you'd apologize to my sister," Horace said, smiling. + +At this, Fledra turned upon him. He had never felt a pair of eyes affect +him as did hers. How winsomely sweet she was! It came over him in a +flash that he had not dealt quite justly with her; so he smiled again +and held out his hands. + + * * * * * + +During the morning Fledra crept ghostlike about the house. She strained +her eyes, now at one window and then at another, for the first glimpse +of Lon. The luncheon hour came and passed, and still the thieves gave no +sign of coming. Horace had returned from his office early in the +afternoon, and was smoking a cigar in the library, when suddenly a loud +peal of the doorbell roused him. Fledra, too, heard it distinctly. She +was sitting beside Floyd; but had not dared to breathe their danger to +him. Her cheeks paled at the sound, and she rested silent until +presently summoned to the drawing-room. + +"What's the matter?" asked her brother. + +"Nothin', Fluke, lay down, and if ye hear anyone talkin' keep still. +Somebody's coming." + +"Somebody comes every day," answered Floyd. "That ain't nothin'. What ye +doin', Flea?" + +She was standing at the door with her ear to the keyhole. She heard the +servant pass her, heard the door open, and Lon's voice asking for Mr. +Shellington. Then she slid back to Flukey, trembling from head to foot. + +"Ye're sick, Dear," said the boy. "Get off this bed, Snatchet! Lay down +here by me, Flea and rest." + +The girl dropped down beside him and closed her eyes with a groan. Floyd +placed his thin hand upon her, and Fledra remained silent, until she was +summoned to the drawing-room. + + * * * * * + +"Who wanted me?" Horace asked the question of the mystified servant. + +"I didn't catch the name, Sir. I didn't understand it. He's a +dreadful-looking man." + +Horace rose, put down his cigar, and walked into the hall. + +Lon Cronk was waiting with a shabby cap in his hand. He bowed awkwardly +to Shellington, and essayed to speak; but Horace interrupted: + +"Do you wish to see me?" + +"Yep," answered Lon, glancing sullenly over the young lawyer. "I've come +for my brats." + +"Your what?" + +"My kids, Flea and Flukey Cronk." + +Horace felt something clutch at his heart. Fledra's radiant face rose +before his mental vision, and he swallowed hard, as he thought of her +relation to the brutal fellow before him. + +"Walk in here, please," he said. + +Then he bade the servant call his sister. + +Miss Shellington obeyed the summons so quickly that her brother was +indicating a chair for the squatter as she walked in. At sight of the +uncouth stranger she glanced about her in dismay. + +"Ann," said Horace, "this is the father--of--" + +Ann's expression snapped off his statement. She knew what he would say +without his finishing. She remembered the stories of terrible beatings, +and the story of Fledra's fear of a wicked man who wanted her for his +woman. The boy's words came back to her plainly. "And he weren't goin' +to marry her nuther, Mister, and that's the truth." Nevertheless, she +stepped forward, throwing a look from her brother to the squatter. + +"But he can't have them--of course, he can't have them!" + +Lon had come with a determination to take the twins peaceably if he +could; he would fight if he had to. He had purposely applied to +Shellington in his home, fearing that he might meet Governor Vandecar in +Horace's office. As long as everyone thought the children his, he could +hold to the point that they had to go back with him. He would make no +compromise for money with the protectors of his children; for he had +rather have their bodies to torment than be the richest man in the +state. He had not yet avenged that woman dead and gone so many years +back. At thought of her, he rose to his feet and smiled at Ann with +twitching lips. + +"Ye said, Ma'm, that I couldn't have my brats. I say that I will have +'em. I'm goin' to take 'em today. Do ye hear?" + +"He can't have them, Horace. Oh! you can't say yes to him!" + +Horace's mind turned back to Fledra, and he mentally blessed the +opportunity he had to protect her. + +"I don't think, Mr. Cronk, that you will take your children," he said, +"even granted that they are yours. I'm not sure of that yet." + +Lon's brown face yellowed. Had they discovered the secret that he had +kept all the dark, revengeful years? + +Horace's next words banished that fear: "I shall have to have you +identified by one of them before I should even, consider your +statement." + +Cronk smiled in relief; and Ann shuddered, as she thought of Flukey's +frail body in the man's thick, twisting fingers. + +"That be easy enough to do. Jest call the gal--or the boy." + +"The boy is too ill to get up," said Ann huskily; "and I beg of you to +go away and leave them with us. You don't care for them--you know you +don't." + +"Who said as how I don't care for my own brats?" + +"The little girl told me the night she came here that you hated her, and +also that you abused them." + +"I'll fix her for that!" muttered Lon. + +"I don't believe you'll touch her while she is with me," said Horace +hotly. "I shall send for the girl, and, if you are their father, then--" + +"They can't go!" cried Ann. + +"I haven't said that they could go, Ann. I was just going to say to Mr. +Cronk that if they wanted to go of course we couldn't keep them. +Otherwise, there is a remedy for him." Horace leaned over toward the +squatter and threw out his next words angrily, "There's the law, Mr. +Cronk! Ann, please call Fledra." + + * * * * * + +The girl responded with the weight of the world on her. Had some +arrangements been made for her and Floyd between Horace and Lon? She +knew that Ann was there, and that Mr. Shellington had been talking with +the squatter long enough to decide what should be done. She walked +slowly to the door, her head spinning with anxiety and fear. For one +single moment she paused on the threshold, then stepped within. + +Drop by drop, the color went from her cheeks, leaving them waxen white. +She threw the squatter an unbending opposing glance. + +"Did you come for Fluke and me, Pappy Lon?" she stammered. + +Her lips trembled perceptibly; but she went forward, and, taking Ann's +hand in hers, stood facing Cronk. + +Lon looked her over from head to foot. First, his gaze took in the +pretty dark head; then it traveled slowly downward, until for an instant +his fierce eyes rested on her small feet. + +"Yep," he replied, raising a swift look, "I comed for ye both--you and +Flukey, too. Go and git ready!" + +Fledra dared not appeal to Horace. He stood so quietly in his place, +making no motion to speak, that she felt positive that he wished her to +go away. She was too dazed to count up the sum of her troubles. Her face +fell into a shadow and grew immeasurably sad. Lon was glowering at her, +and she read his decision like an open page. The dreadful opposition in +his shaggy brown eyes spurred Fledra forward; but Ann's arms stole about +her waist, and the slender figure was drawn close. A feeling of +thanksgiving rushed over the girl. How glad she was that she had kept +the secret of Everett's unfaithfulness! + +"Sister Ann," she gasped, "can't ye keep us from him? Fluke nor me don't +want to go, and Pappy Lon don't like us, either. I couldn't go--I'd +ruther die, I would! He'd make me go to Lem's scow! Ye can see I can't +go, can't you?" She wheeled around and looked at Horace, her eyes filled +with a frightened appeal. Shellington's glance was compassionate and +tender. + +"I not only see that you can't go," said he; "but I will see to it that +you don't go. Mr. Cronk, I shall have to ask you to leave my house." + +"I don't go one step," growled Lon, "till I get them kids! Where's +Flukey?" He made a move toward the door; but Horace thrust his big form +in front of him. + +"The boy shall not know that you are here," said he. "I shall keep it +from him because he's ill, and because a great worry like this might +seriously harm him. It might even kill him." + +Lon's temper raced away with his judgment. + +"What do I care if he dies or not? I'm goin' to have him, dead or +alive!" + +Shellington noted the hatred and menace in the other's tones, and he +smiled in triumph. + +"It's about as I thought, Mr. Cronk. You care no more for these children +than if they were animals. That statement you just made will go against +you at the proper time, all right. Please go now, and remember what I've +said, that you have the law. And remember another thing: if you do +fight, I shall bring everything I can find against you, if I have to ask +the aid of Governor Vandecar. I see no other course open to you. +Good-day, Sir." + +Cronk glared about until his gaze rested upon the two girls. His eyes +pierced into the soul of Fledra. She shuddered and drew closer to Miss +Shellington. The squatter walked toward the door, and once more looked +back, an evil expression crossing his face and settling in deep lines +about his mouth. + +"Ye remember what I told ye, Flea, the last time I seed ye! I meant what +I said then, and I say it over again!" + +The emphasis upon the words struck terror to Fledra's sensibilities. +But, with new courage in her eyes, she advanced a step, and, raising a +set face, replied: + +"Ye can't have us, Pappy Lon--you can't! I'll take care of Flukey, and +Mr. Shellington'll take care--of--me." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE + + +Horace set his teeth firmly as he closed the door, upon Cronk. Through +the door window he saw the squatter take his lumbering way down the +steps, and noticed that the man paused and looked back at the house. The +heavy face was black with baffled rage, and Lon raised his fist and +shook it threateningly. If Horace had been determined in the first +instant that the squatter should not get possession of the twins, he was +now many times more resolute to keep to his decision. For his life, he +could not imagine Lon Cronk the father of his young charges. + +He returned to the drawing-room, and found Ann and Fledra still +together, the girl's face hidden in Miss Shellington's lap. + +"Horace," cried Ann, "there can't be any way in which he can take them, +can there? He didn't tell you how he found out they were here, did he?" + +"No, I forgot to ask him, and it doesn't matter about that. Our only +task now will be to keep them from him. Fledra, when you have finished +talking with Ann, will you come to me?" + +Fledra raised her head. Something in Horace's eyes frightened her. She +had never seen him so pale, nor had his lips ever been so set and white. + +Ann rose quickly. Of late Horace's actions had aroused her suspicions. +She was now fully convinced that Everett had been right. Moreover, she +had come to feel that she would willingly overlook Fledra's birth, if +her brother's intentions were serious. + +"Go to him now, and trust--have faith that you will not have to go +away!" + +Fledra kissed Ann's hands and tremblingly followed Shellington into his +study. + +She sat down without waiting for an invitation; for her legs seemed too +weak to hold her. Her attitude was attentive, and her poise was +graceful. For some minutes Horace arranged the papers on his desk, while +Fledra peeped at him from under her lashes. He looked even sterner than +when he had ordered Lon to leave the house, and his silence terrified +her more than if he had scolded her. At last he turned quickly. + +"Fledra, I've asked you to come here, because I can't stand our troubles +any longer. I believe in my soul that you love me; for you have told me +so, and--and have given me every reason to hope it. We are facing a new +danger, both for you and for Floyd, and I am sure you want to help me +all you can." He paused a moment, and went on, "Your suffering is over +as far as your own people are concerned. There is no law that can force +a child as old as you are to return to such a hateful place, and I shall +take it upon myself to see that neither you nor your brother is forced +to leave here." + +Fledra uttered a cry and half-rose to her feet; but, as Horace continued +speaking, she sank down. + +"I think it probable that we shall have to go to law, for Mr. Cronk +looks like a very determined man; but he'll find that I will fight his +claim every inch of the way." Shellington bent toward her and rested a +hand on the papers he had been sorting. "I'm very glad you didn't go to +school today, and you must not go again until it is over. This man may +try to kidnap you." He found it impossible to call Lon her father. + +Fledra reached out and grasped his hands. At her touch, Horace flushed +to the roots of his hair. Loosening his own fingers, he took hers into +his. Finally he drew her slowly round the corner of the desk, close into +his arms. + +"Fledra, for God's sake, tell me what has made you so unhappy! Will you, +child? Isn't it something that I ought to know? Poor little girly, don't +cry that way! It breaks my heart to hear you!" + +There was inexplicable weariness on the fair young face. + +"I want to stay here," moaned Flea; "but what I have that hurts me is +here." She drew his fingers close over her heart. "It isn't anything +anybody can help--just yet." + +"I could help you, Fledra," Horace insisted. "Every man has the power +to help the woman he loves, and you are a woman, Fledra." + +"I want to be your woman." + +Young as she was, Fledra was an enigma to him. There was but one way to +make her his woman,--his wife,--that was to force her confidence, and, +once obtained, keep it. But his longing to caress her was stronger than +his desire to conquer her,--the warmth and softness of her lips he would +not exchange for the world's wealth! + +"Sweetheart, Sweetheart!" he said, reddening. "I'm sorry that I spoke as +I did last night,--I was angry,--but I've had such awful moods lately! +Sometimes I've felt as if I could whip you to make you tell me!" + +A thrill ran over Fledra from head to foot. + +"Beat me--will you beat me?" she murmured, drawing his hand across her +moist lips. "I'd love to have you beat me! Pappy Lon always said that a +woman needed beatin' to make her stand around. Then, when I saw you, I +thought as how princes never beat their women; but now I know you have +to." + +If the young face had been less earnest, the gray eyes less entreating, +Horace would have laughed despite his anger. + +"Of course, I shan't whip you, child," he said; "only I want you to +prove your love for me by trusting me. You're a woman, Fledra. It would +be an outrage to punish you that way. Then, too, I love you too well to +hurt you." + +She watched him for one tense moment. She was quivering under his firm +grasp like a leaf in the wind. Her eyes were entreating him to trust +her, to take her, regardless of her seeming stubbornness. + +"Fledra," he whispered, "if the time ever comes that you can, will you +tell me all about it?" + +"Yes." + +"And you'll not lie again?" + +"I've never lied to you!" came sullenly. + +"Never, Fledra?" + +"Never!" + +"And you won't tell another untruth to Ann, either--- not even once?" + +Fledra's mind flashed to Everett. She might have to lie to keep Ann's +happiness for her. She slowly drew her hand away, and turned fretfully +with a hatred against Brimbecomb for bringing all this misery upon them. + +"I'm not going to promise you that I won't lie to Sister Ann; but I'll +tell you the truth, always--always--" + +Because he did not understand a woman's heart, Horace opened the door, +white and angered. + +"It is beyond my comprehension that you should treat a woman as you have +my sister. You take advantage of her generosity, and expect me to uphold +you in it!" + +There was a catch of genuine sorrow in his voice. Slowly Fledra looked +back over her shoulder at him. + +"You've promised me that you'd never tell anybody what I told you." + +Horace supplemented his last rebuke with: + +"Nor will I! But I insist that you come to me the next time you are +tempted to lie. Do you hear, Fledra?" + +"Yes," she answered. + +Suddenly she began to sob wildly, and in another instant fled down the +hall. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO + + +Not more than two weeks after Lon had demanded the twins from Horace, +Everett Brimbecomb sat in his office, brooding over the shadow that had +so suddenly darkened his life. The dream he had dreamed of a woman he +could call Mother, of some man--his father--of whom he had striven to be +worthy, had dissolved into a specter with a shriveled face and shaggy +hair, into a woman whom he had left in the cemetery to die. Although he +was secure in the thought that he would not be connected with the +tragedy, he shuddered every time he thought of her and of the coming +spring, when the body would be discovered. He did not repent the crime +he had committed; but the fear that the secret of his birth would be +brought to life tortured him night and day. He remembered that Scraggy +had said his father wanted him; that she had come to Tarrytown to take +him back. Did his father know who and where he was? If so, eventual +discovery was inevitable. + +Everett's passion for Fledra only heightened his misery, and the girl's +face haunted him continually. In his imagination he compared her with +Ann, and the younger girl stood out in radiant contrast. He had daily +fostered his jealous hatred for Horace, and, because of her allegiance +to her brother, he had come to loathe Ann, although he was more than +ever determined to marry her. The home in which he had been reared +repelled him, and he could now live only for the fame that would rise +from his talent and work, and for the pleasures that come to those +without heart or conscience. Almost the entire morning had been +consumed by these thoughts, when two men were ushered in to him. + +"I'm Lon Cronk," said the taller of the two, "and this be Lem Crabbe, +and we hear that ye're a good lawyer." + +Everett rose frowningly. + +"I am a lawyer," said he; "but I choose my clients. I don't take +cases--" + +"We'll pay ye well," interrupted Lon, "if it's money ye want. Ye can +have as much as that Mr. Shellin'ton--" + +Everett dropped back again into his chair. The mention of Horace's name +silenced him. He motioned for the men to be seated, without taking his +eyes from Lem. The scowman's clothes were in shreds, and, as he lifted +his right arm, Brimbecomb saw the chapped red flesh, strapped to the +rusted iron hook. Although Lem had not spoken, the young lawyer noted +the silent convulsions going on in the dark, full throat, the unceasing +movements of the goiter. + +"State your case to me, then," said he tersely. + +Lon Cronk settled back and began to speak. + +"There's a man here in this town by the name of Shellington. He's a +lawyer, too, and he's got my kids, and I want 'em. That's my case, +Mister." + +Brimbecomb's heart began to beat tumultuously. Chance was giving him a +lead he could not have won of his own efforts, and he smiled, turning on +Cronk more cordially. + +"Have you demanded your children of Mr. Shellington?" he asked. + +"Yep." + +Everett bent over eagerly. + +"What did he say to you?" + +"He says as how I could go to the devil, and that I could git the law +after him if I wanted 'em. Can I get 'em, Mister?" + +The lawyer straightened up, and for many moments was deep in thought +before answering Lon. The chance of which he could never have dreamed +had come to him. This visit laid open a way for him to tear Fledra from +Horace; in fact, he could now legally take her from him with no +possibility of public discredit to himself. He narrowly observed the men +before him, and knew that he should later be able to force them to do as +he wished. He forgot his foster father and mother--aye, forgot even +Ann--as all that was black in his nature inflamed his desire for the +ebony-haired girl. + +During several minutes he rapidly planned how he could bring the affair +to a favorable climax with the least possible danger. But, whether by +fair means or by foul, he resolved that Fledra should become his. + +Presently, as if to gain time, he asked: + +"Do you want them both?" + +"Yep." + +"The boy is ill, I hear," he said. + +"That don't make no difference," cried Lon. "I want him jest the same. +Can ye get 'em fer me, Mister?" + +"I think so," replied Everett; "and, if I take the case, I shall have to +ask you to keep out of it entirely, until I'm ready for you. We shall +probably have to go into court." + +"Yep, ye'll have to bring it into court, all right, I know ye will. How +much money do ye want now?" + +"Fifty dollars," replied Everett; "and it will be more if I have a suit, +and still more if I win. Come here again next week Monday, and I'll lay +my plans before you." + +Lon clapped his shabby cap upon his head, and, with a surly +leave-taking, moved to go. Lem lagged behind; but a glance at the +lawyer's forbidding face sent him shuffling after the squatter. + + * * * * * + +Long after they were gone Everett sat planning a future course. He felt +sure that Horace would not allow the children to be taken from him +without a fight; he knew there were special statutes governing these +things, and took down a large book and began to read. + +Much to his satisfaction, Brimbecomb found a letter from Mr. and Mrs. +Brimbecomb awaiting him at home that evening. In it his foster mother +informed him that they had decided to return to Tarrytown immediately +and make ready for a trip abroad, where they hoped that Mr. Brimbecomb +would recover his health. In a postscript from the noted lawyer, Everett +read: + + I am glad that you are doing well, dear boy, and when my doctor said + that I must have a complete rest I knew that I could leave you in + charge of the office and go away satisfied. + +There followed a few personalities, and after finishing the reader threw +it down with a smile. He had hesitated a moment over the thought that +his father would have a decided objection to the Cronk case. But his +desire to work against Horace had overcome his irresolution. Now his way +was clear! The sooner Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb were away, the better +pleased he would be. + + * * * * * + +Floyd was suddenly taken worse. + +"I think, if you were to come and speak with him, he might feel better," +said Ann to Horace. "He wants to see you. Fledra is with him." + +Floyd was quiet now, his large eyes closed with quivering pain. + +"Floyd!" murmured Horace, touching the lad gently. + +The lids lifted, and he put up his hand. + +"I'm glad ye come, Brother Horace," he said in a whisper. "I've been +wantin' to talk to ye. Will ye take Flea out, Sister Ann?" + +Both girls left the room, as Horace drew a chair to the bed. + +"I ain't goin' to get well," said Flukey slowly. "I know the doctor +thinks so, too, 'cause he said there was somethin' the matter with my +heart. And I have to go and leave Flea." + +Shellington took the thin, white hand in his. + +"You must not become downhearted, boy; that's not the way to get well. +And you're certainly better than when you came, in spite of this little +setback." + +Floyd closed his eyes, and Horace saw silent tears rolling down the +boy's cheeks. The young man bent over him. + +"Floyd, are you worrying about your sister?" + +Flukey nodded an affirmative. + +"Why?" + +"Because she ain't the same as she was. And she ain't happy any more, +and I can't make her tell me. Have ye been ugly to her--have ye?" + +Horace racked his mind for a truthful answer. Had he been unfair to +Fledra? + +"Floyd," he said softly, "your sister and I have had some words; but we +shall soon understand each other--I know we shall!" + +"What did ye say to Flea?" + +"I can't tell you, Floyd, because I promised her I would not." + +The boy writhed under the warm blankets. + +"She's always makin' folks promise not to tell things," he moaned. "It's +because you're mad at her, that's what makes her cry so, and I can't do +anything for her. Can't you, Brother Horace?" + +"She won't let me, Floyd." + +"Did ye ask her?" + +"Many times." + +"Would she let ye if I asked her?" + +"No, Floyd, you must not! I promised her that I would not speak with you +about her unhappiness." Horace ejaculated his reply so emphatically that +Floyd looked at him curiously. + +"But I can't die and leave her that way, and I'm a goin' soon. Sometimes +my heart jest stands still, and won't start again till I lose all my +breath. A feller can't live that way, can he, Brother Horace?" + +"It will pass off; of course, it will--it must!" Horace looked into the +worn, suffering young face, and a resolution took possession of him. + +"Floyd," he said huskily, "Floyd, if I tell you something, will you keep +it from my sister and yours?" + +"Yes," murmured Flukey. + +"I love Fledra, and want to make her my wife. Does that help you any, to +know that I shall always watch her and care for her?" + +Flukey searched the earnest face bent over him. + +"Ye love her?" + +"Very much, very much indeed. But she is young yet--only a little girl." + +"Did ye tell her that ye loved her?" + +"Yes." + +"Did she say she loved you?" + +"Yes." + +Flukey groaned. + +"Then it's something else than that, because I've known for a long time +that Flea loved ye. What's the matter? What's the matter with ye both?" + +"Floyd, when I tell you that I do not know," answered Horace, "will you +believe me?" + +"Did ye want her to tell ye somethin'--something that'll keep ye from +takin' her now?" Horace's silence drew an outpouring from Flukey. "And I +suppose she said she wouldn't--and ye won't take her unless she tells +ye. Then ye'll never get her; for, when Flea says she won't, she won't, +if she dies for it! Ain't ye lovin' her well enough to take her, +anyway?" + +Horace answered warmly, "Yes, of course, I am!" + + * * * * * + +By the dawn of day Floyd had become so much worse that a trained nurse +was placed at his side, and the physician's verdict, that the boy might +die at any moment, overshadowed the threats of the squatter father. + + * * * * * + +Lon Cronk had come alone to Everett's office on the hour set. Brimbecomb +wondered vaguely where the other man was, and what was his concern in +the affair. + +After greeting Lon coldly, the young lawyer said: + +"I should like to know about your life, Mr. Cronk, how long your +children have been away from you, and all about it." + +"They've been gone since September," replied Lon. "They runned away from +hum, and I ain't seed 'em till I found out that they was at +Shellington's." + +"And how did you discover them?" + +"Saw Flea goin' up the steps," lied Cronk. "I knowed her the minute I +see her, in spite of her pretty clothes." + +"Then you applied to Mr. Shellington for them?" + +"Yep." + +"And he refused to deliver them up?" + +"Yep--damn him! But I'll take 'em, anyway." + +"Don't say that outside my office," warned Everett. "The law does not +want to be threatened." + +Lon remained silent. + +"We'll have to deal with Mr. Shellington very carefully," cautioned the +lawyer; "for he is proud and stubborn, and has a great liking for your +children. In fact, I think he is quite in love with the girl." + +Lon started to his feet, his swart face paling. + +"He won't git her!" he muttered. "I've got plans for that gal, and I +ain't goin' have no young buck kickin' 'em over, I kin tell ye that!" + +Brimbecomb's words put a new light upon the matter. That Flea would be +protected by the young millionaire Lon knew; but that the young man +thought of marrying her had never come into his mind. + +"I don't believe as how he'd marry a squatter girl," he said presently. +"He won't, if I get her once to Ithaca!" + +The mention of Brimbecomb's college town and birthplace brought a new +train of thought to the lawyer. + +"Have you lived in Ithaca many years?" he demanded. + +"Yep." + +"The first thing I shall do," said the attorney deliberately, "is to +make a formal demand upon Mr. Shellington in your name, and get his +answer. Please remain in town where I can see you, and if anything comes +up I shall write you." + +Lon gave him the address of a man near the river, and Everett allowed +his client to go. Some force within him had almost impelled him to ask +the squatter concerning Screech Owl, and he breathed more freely when he +thought that he had not given way to the temptation to learn something +about his own people. + + * * * * * + +At eight o'clock that evening Everett met Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb at the +station. He could not comprehend the feeling that his foster parents had +become strangers to him. He kissed his mother, shook hands with Mr. +Brimbecomb, and followed them into the carriage. + +He went to bed content with the knowledge that their steamer would sail +two days later, and that for six months he would be alone. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE + + +"I can't understand why Horace wants to keep those children +indefinitely," said Governor Vandecar to his wife one evening. "It seems +their own father has turned up and asked for them." + +"Is Horace going to let him have them?" + +"Not without a fight, I fear. He talked to me about it, and seemed +perfectly decided to keep them. I told him to take no steps until papers +were served upon him." + +"Can they keep them, Floyd?" + +Mrs. Vandecar had become suddenly interested in Fledra and Floyd. + +"I'm sure I don't know," replied the governor. "Such things have to be +threshed out in court, although much will depend upon what the +youngsters wish to do. I fear, though, that Ann and Horace are making +useless trouble for themselves." + +"What process will the father have to take to get them?" + +"Have _habeas corpus_ papers issued. It will be a nuisance; but I did +not try to change his mind, because he was so earnest about it." + +"So is Ann," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and then, Dear, I always think +their kindness to those poor little children might make the little dears +useful in life sometime. Mildred says they are very pretty and sweet." + +"Well, as I said before, it's strange that such a case should be here in +this peaceful little town, and I have promised Horace to advise him all +I can, although I am too busy to take any active part in it." + +"Oh, do everything you ought to, Floyd, if you discover that they have +really been abused. It might be that they would be really harmed if they +were taken back to their home. Did Horace tell you where they lived?" + +"Yes, near Ithaca somewhere. I think he said they had a shanty on Cayuga +Lake." + +"One of the squatters?" + +"Yes." + +"I remember very well," remarked Mrs. Vandecar after a moment's thought, +"when I went to Ithaca with Ann Shellington, and Horace and Everett were +graduated from the university, that we went up the lake in Brimbecomb's +yacht. The boys called our attention to numbers of huts on the west +shore, near the head of Cayuga. I suppose it must be one of those places +the children left." + +"I presume so," replied the governor. + +"Ann telephoned over that the boy was ill with a rheumatic heart. She +seemed quite alarmed over it." + +"He probably won't get well, if that's the case," murmured Vandecar. +"It's a pernicious thing when it attacks the heart. Wasn't it rather +strange that Ann and Horace should have used our names for them, +Fledra?" + +"You remember Ann asked me if I cared. She said that when they came they +had some strange nicknames, and that they wanted to make them forget +about their former lives, and it really pleased the poor little things +to have our names. I don't mind; do you, Floyd?" + +"No," was the answer. "I only wish--" He stopped quickly and turned to +his wife. + +Her eyes were filled with tears. Floyd Vandecar's wish had been her own, +that she knew. + +"I wish you had a son, too, Floyd dear!" she sobbed. "Oh, my babies, my +poor, pretty little babies!" + +"Don't Fledra, don't!" pleaded her husband. "It was God's will, and we +must bow to it." + +"It's so hard, though, Floyd, so awfully hard, and the days have been so +long! Floyd, do you ever wonder and wonder where they are?" + +The man shook his shoulders sharply. + +"Do I ever wonder, Fledra? My hair is whitened, my life shortened, and +many of my efforts of no avail, because of my sorrow and yours. If the +days have been long to you, they have been longer to me; if your heart +has been torn over their disappearance, mine has been doubly hurt, +because--because you have depended upon me to return them to you, and I +have not been able to." + +He spoke drearily, shading his face with his hand. + +"Floyd, dear Floyd, I'm not blaming you. I realize that if it had been +possible you would have given me back my babies, and you must not say +that your efforts have been of no avail. Why, dear husband, the papers +are full of your great, strong doings. I'm immensely proud of you." She +had leaned over him; but the despondent man did not take the hand from +his eyes. + +"Of all the strange cases, Fledra, ours is the strangest. You remember +how I turned the state almost upside down to find those children. Yet, +with all the power I could bring to bear, I made no headway." + +"I did not realize that you felt it so deeply," whispered the wife. +"I've been so selfish--forgive me! We'll try to be as happy as possible, +and we have Mildred--" + +"If we had a dozen children," replied the governor sadly, "our first +babies would always have their places in our hearts." + +"True," murmured the mother. "How true that is, Floyd! There is never a +day but I feel the touch of their fingers, remember their sweet baby +ways. And always, when I look at you, I think of them. They were so like +their father." + +Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe had arranged between them that the scowman +should return to Ithaca for some days, and so the big thief was alone +near the Hudson, in a shanty that had been given over to him by a canal +friend to use when he wished. When Lon decided to rob Horace +Shellington, he had known that there would have to be some place to take +the things thus obtained, and had secured the hut for the purpose. It +was at this address that Everett came to him, upon his return from New +York. + +Lon admitted the lawyer, who found the hut reeking with the rank smoke +from a short pipe that Cronk held in his hand. + +"Have ye got the kids?" the squatter questioned. + +Everett catechized the heavy face with a smile. + +"Did you think for a moment it was possible to obtain them so quickly?" + +"I hain't had no way of knowin'," grunted Lon, "and I'm in a hurry." + +He seemed changed, and looked as if he had not slept. Everett wondered +if his affection for the children had been so great that his loss of +them had altered him thus. The lawyer did not know how Lon was tortured +when he caressed the image of the dead woman, nor could he know the +man's agony when her spirit left him suddenly. + +"You'll have to curb your haste," said Brimbecomb, with a curl of his +lip. "It takes time to set justice in motion." + +"Have ye done anything?" + +"Not yet. I was forced to go to New York." + +"Hadn't ye better git a hustle on yerself?" snarled Lon. + +"Yes, I intend to begin tomorrow; that is, to take the first steps in +the matter. But I wanted to talk with you first. Are you alone?" + +"Yep; there ain't nobody here. Fire ahead, and say what ye're wantin' +to." + +Everett bent over and looked keenly into Lon's face; then slowly he +threw a question at the fellow: + +"Are you fond of those two children, or have you other motives for +taking them from Shellington?" + +Cronk made no reply, but settled back in the rickety chair and eyed +Everett from head to foot. + +"Be that any of yer business?" he said at length. + +The lawyer took the repulse calmly. He had not come to fight with Lon. + +"It's my business as far as this is concerned. If you care for them, and +intend to shield them after you have them--well, say from all harm--and +do your best for them, then I don't want your case. I'm willing to +return your money." + +For a moment the elder man looked disconcerted; then he jumped to his +feet with an oath. + +"Put her there, Mister!" said he, with an evil smile. He thrust forth a +great hand, and for an instant Everett placed his fingers within it. + +"I thought I had not guessed wrongly," the lawyer quickly averred. "If +that is how you feel, I can do better work for you." + +"I see that, Mister," muttered Lon. + +"Are those children really yours?" Everett took out a cigar and lighted +it. + +"Yep," answered Lon, dropping his gaze. + +Everett decided that the man had lied to him, and he was glad. + +"I think you said you had some plans for the girl," he broke forth +presently. + +"Yep; but no plans be any good when she's with Shellington." + +"But after she has left him? Would you be willing to change your plans +for her?" + +Cronk did not reply, but centered his gaze full upon Everett. + +"The question is, would you, for a good sum of money, be willing to give +her to me?" + +"Why give her to ye, Mister--why?" His voice rose to a shout. + +"I want her," Everett answered quietly. + +"What for?" + +"I love her." + +"Ye want to marry her?" muttered Lon vindictively. + +"No," drawled Everett; "I am going to marry Miss Shellington." + +"Good God! ye don't mean it! And yet ye take this case what's most +interestin' to 'em? Yer gal won't like that, Mister." + +"She loves me, and when I explain that it's all under the law she'll +forgive me. There's nothing quite like having a woman in love with you +to get her to do what you want her to." + +"But her brother, he ain't lovin' ye that way. He won't forgive ye." + +"He doesn't cut any ice," said Everett. "In fact, I hate him, and--" + +"Be ye lovin' my Flea?" Lon's voice cracked out the question like a +gunshot. + +"I think so." + +"Be Flea lovin' you, or him?" + +"She loves him." + +"Then it will hurt her like the devil to take her away from him, eh?" + +The eagerness expressed in the squatter's tones confirmed Everett's +suspicions. Cronk hated that boy and girl. Brimbecomb impassively +overlooked Floyd; but Flea he would have! + +"Yes," he said, "I think it will hurt them both." + +"How much money will ye give if I hand her over to ye?" asked Cronk +presently. + +"How much do you want?" + +"Wal, Mister, it's this way: Ye remember that feller I had with me +t'other day?" Everett nodded. "I mean, the feller with the hook?" Again +Everett inclined his head. "I said as how he could have Flea. Ye has to +buy him off, too, and that ain't so easy as 'tis to settle with +me--especially, as ye ain't goin' to marry Flea. I ain't goin' to give +her to no man what's honest--ye hear?" + +"I supposed as much," commented Everett, reddening. + +"Lem's been waitin' for Flea for over three years, and I said as how +ye'd have to buy him off, too." + +"That's easy. Where is he?" + +"Gone to Ithaca. He's went up to bring down his scow. It's gettin' 'long +to be spring, and it's easier to lug the kids back by water, and we know +that way, and it don't cost so much. I telled him when he went away that +he could have the gal as soon as we got back to the settlement. Lem +won't reason for a little bit of money." + +"Money doesn't count in this," assured Everett. "Now, then, if I take +this case, put it through without cost to you, and give you both a good +sum, will you give me the girl?" + +"If ye promise me ye won't marry her." + +Everett laughed, his white teeth gleaming through his lips. + +"Don't let that worry you, Mr. Cronk. I have no desire to place at the +head of my home a girl like yours. I told you that I was going to marry +Miss Shellington--and not even that damned brother of hers can prevent +it!" + +For a long time after Everett had left the hut Lon sat meditating over +what he had heard. He wondered if Everett really loved Ann, and, if he +did, how he could wish for Flea. How another woman could erase from any +man's mind the picture of a loved woman, Lon with his loyal heart could +not understand. He sat for an hour with his head on the old wooden +table, and planned what he should do with Flukey, leaving it to the +brilliant-eyed lawyer to dicker with Lem for Flea. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR + + +Horace Shellington took a long breath as he entered his office one +morning in the latter part of March. The blustering wind that had raged +all night had almost subsided, and he felt glad for Floyd's sake; for, +no matter how warm they kept the little lad, the sound of the wind +through the trees and the dismal wail of the branches at night made him +shiver and fret with nervous pain. Horace had scarcely seated himself +when Everett Brimbecomb entered the room. + +"Hello, Horace!" said the latter jovially. "I was going to come in +yesterday, but was not quite ready to see you. Haven't been able to get +a word with you in several days." + +Horace offered a chair, and Everett sank into it. + +"You are always so busy when I run in to see Ann," Brimbecomb went on, +"that one would think you were not an inmate of that house." + +"Yes," said Horace, "I've been studying up on an interesting case I +expect to handle very soon." + +Everett laughed. + +"So have I," he said, narrowing his lids and looking at Shellington. + +"When one is connected with offices as we are, Everett," remarked Horace +uninterestedly, "there is little time for visiting." + +"I find that, too," replied Everett. + +During the last few weeks Horace had seen little of his sister's fiancé; +in fact, since their quarrel he had drawn away from the young man as a +companion; but above everything else he desired his gentle sister to be +happy, and the man before him was the only one to make her so. He +thought of this, and smiled a little more cordially as he said: + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Everett?" + +"Well, yes, there is," admitted Brimbecomb. + +"I'll do anything I can," replied Horace heartily. + +Brimbecomb hesitated before going on. Shellington looked so grave, so +dignified, so much more manly than he had ever seen him, that he +scarcely dared open his subject. + +"It's something that may touch you at first, Horace," he explained; +"but--" + +Horace, unsuspicious, bent forward encouragingly: + +"Go ahead," he said. + +Everett flushed and looked at the floor. + +"A case has just come into our office, and, as my father is gone from +home, I have taken it on." + +Horace listened expectantly. Everett could have struck the man in the +face, he hated him so deeply. He groaned mentally as he thought of +Scraggy and her wild-eyed cat and of his endeavor to close her lips as +to her relation to him. It was a great fear within him that soon his +father would appear as his mother had. The time might come when this +haughty man before him would have reason to look upon him with contempt. +To make Horace understand his present power was the one thought that now +dominated him. + +With this in mind, he began to speak again: + +"A man came to us with a complaint that you were keeping his children +from him." + +If Horace had received the blow the other longed to give, he could not +have been more shocked. + +"I believe his name is Cronk," went on Everett, taking a slip from his +pocket; "yes, Lon Cronk." + +Horace took his paper-knife from the table and twirled it in his +fingers. His face had grown ashen white, his lips were set closely over +his teeth. + +"I have met this Cronk," he said in a low tone. + +"So I understand. He told me that he had been at your home, and had +demanded his children, and that you had refused to give them up." + +"I did!" There was no lack of emphasis in the words. + +"And you said that he could not have them unless he went to law for +them." + +"I did!" said Horace again. + +"And he came to me." + +Horace rose to his feet, a deep frown gathering on his brow. Everett +rose also, and the two men faced each other for a long moment. + +"And you took the case?" Horace got out at last. + +"Yes, I took the case," Everett replied. + +"And yet you knew that Ann loved them?" + +"I was--was sure that if you both understood--" + +The speaker's hesitation brought forth an ejaculation from Shellington. + +"What are we to understand?" + +"That justice must be done the father," responded Everett quickly. + +Horace squared his jaw and snapped out: + +"Do I understand that, in spite of the near relationship of our family, +you are willing to deal a blow to my sister and me that, if it falls, +will be almost unbearable? You intend to fight with this squatter for +his children?" + +"I don't intend to fight, Horace, if you're willing to give them to me. +I had much rather have our present relations go on as they are, without +a breach in them. I think, if you and Ann talk it over, you will see +that by giving the boy and girl into my hands--" + +Horace came a step nearer, with darkening brow: + +"You can go straight to hell!" he said, so fiercely that Everett started +back. "And the sooner you go, the better I shall be pleased," his face +reddened as he finished, "and so will Ann!" + +"You're speaking for someone who has not given you authority," Everett +sneered. "Your sister will give me at least one of those children--I +imagine, the girl. I think the father is more particular about having +her." + +"I should think he would be, and you may take him this message from me: +that, if he sneaks about my house at any time of day or night, I'll have +him shot like a dog, for every man can protect his own; and if you--" + +Everett, seeing his chance, broke in: + +"He would be protecting his own, if he came to your home, for his own +are there; and we are going to have those children before another month +goes by!" + +"Try it, and perhaps I may bring to your mind what you once said to me +about that girl," muttered Horace, with set teeth. "Your errand being +finished, Mr. Brimbecomb, you may go!" + +Everett had received the worst of the encounter. He had expected that +Horace would consider Fledra's and Floyd's case in a gentler way, would +probably compromise for Ann's sake. He went out not a little disturbed. + + * * * * * + +Horace waited for a few moments after Brimbecomb left him before he took +his hat and coat and went home. Ann was surprised to see him, and more +surprised when he drew her into the drawing-room, where he mysteriously +closed the door. + +"Ann," he said solemnly, "I believe the turning point in your life has +come. And I want you to judge for yourself and take your own stand +without thinking of my happiness or comfort." + +The young woman lifted startled eyes and searched his face. + +"What is it, Horace--that squatter again? Has he made a move against +us?" + +Horace bent over and took her hands in his. + +"He has not only made a move against us, as far as the children are +concerned, but he has used an instrument you would never have dreamed +of." Seeing his sister did not reply, he went on, "Just what legal +procedure they will undertake I don't know; but that will come out in +time. Cronk went to Everett Brimbecomb with the case, and I was notified +this morning by Everett to give up the children." + +"Everett!" breathed Ann, disbelieving. "My Everett?" + +"Yes, your Everett, Ann. Don't, child, please don't! Ann, Ann, listen to +me!... Yes, sit down.... Now wait!" + +He held her closely in his arms until the storm of sobs had passed, and +then placed a pillow under her head and went on gravely: + +"Ann, I have come to this conclusion: you love Everett dearly, and I +cannot understand his actions; but I'm not going to intrude upon your +affection for him, nor his for you. I'm going to ask you not to take +sides with either of us. I'm a lawyer, and so is he. Do you understand, +Ann?" + +Fearfully she clutched his fingers. + +"But Fledra and Floyd--I can't let them go back, I can't! I can't!" + +"They're not going back," said Horace firmly. "Mind you, Ann, even to +renew my friendship with Brimbecomb, I shouldn't give them up." + +"Renew your friendship!" gasped Ann. "Oh, have you quarreled with him, +Horace?" + +"Yes, and told him to leave my office." + +Ann sobbed again. + +"What a fearful tragedy is hanging over us!" she cried. + +"It is worse than I imagined it could be," Horace declared; "much worse, +for I never thought that the squatter could get a reputable firm to +represent him. And as for Everett--well, he never entered my mind. I +told him that he could not take those children, and that he might--" + +He remembered plainly what he had said, but did not communicate it to +his sister. She was so frail, so gently modest, that an angry man's +language would hurt her. + +"I told him," ended Horace, "to do whatever he thought best, and that, +if Cronk came here again, I should shoot him down like a dog. I think we +ought to tell Fledra, and then, too, I desire to speak to her of +something else. Can you bring her to me, Ann, without frightening +Floyd?" + + * * * * * + +It did not need Ann's quiet plucking at her sleeve to tell Fledra that +the blow had fallen. She had expected it day after day; until now, when +she faced Horace and looked into his tense face, she felt that her whole +hope had gone. + +Ann tiptoed out before her brother opened his lips. + +For a moment the harassed man knew not what to say to the silent, +trembling girl. + +"Fledra," he began, "the first move has been made in your case by your +father." + +"Must we go?" burst from the quivering lips. + +"No, no: not if you have told me the truth about your past life--I mean +about your father being cruel to you." + +The sensitive face gathered a deep flush: + +"I've never lied to you, Brother Horace," she replied gently. + +"If I could believe you, child, if I could place absolute confidence in +your word, I should have courage to go into the struggle without losing +hope." + +"What's Pappy Lon done?" + +"He has employed Everett Brimbecomb to take you back to Ithaca." + +Fledra shrank back as if he had struck her. Swiftly into her mind came +the smiling, handsome face of the lawyer whom Ann loved. His brilliant +eyes seared her soul like fire. In all her life, even when facing Lem +Crabbe, she had never felt as she did now. She saw Floyd fading into the +graveyard beyond, while she was being torn from the only haven of rest +she had ever known. Lem Crabbe could not have taken her; but Everett +Brimbecomb could! She felt again his burning kisses, the clasp of his +strong arms, and her own disgust. He seemed a giant of strength, and +Horace's white face and set lips aggravated her fear. Fledra's desire +for comfort had never been so great as the desire she had at this moment +to open her tired heart to Horace and reveal to him Everett's perfidy. + +"Did you tell Sister Ann about Mr. Brimbecomb?" + +She stumbled over the name. + +"Yes." + +"What did she say?" + +"My sister loves him--you know that. She is heartbroken that he should +have accepted this case. We must make it as easy as we can for her, dear +child." + +The girl saw Horace's lips twitch as he spoke, and thought of the love +he had for his sister, and her desire to tell him what she knew died +immediately. + +"Do you want me to go with Pappy Lon and not make any trouble for her?" +she whispered. + +"No, no, not that! You can't go, Fledra, and they can't take you, +if--you have told me the truth about the man your father wanted to give +you to." + +"Floyd and I told the truth," she said seriously, lifting her eyes to +his face; "but for Sister Ann I'd go away with Pappy Lon, and with Lem, +if you'd take care of Fluke till he--" + +"Don't, Fledra, don't!" groaned Horace. "It would tear me to pieces to +give you up. But--but you couldn't relieve my mind, Dear, could you?" + +Fledra knew what he meant, and shook her head. + +"No, not now," she replied. + +If it troubled Ann to have Everett take part in their going back to the +squatter country, how much worse she would feel if she knew what he +really had done! Horace's appeal to shield Ann from overmuch burden +strengthened Fledra's courage. + +"Can you keep us?" she asked, after a moment's thought. + +"I am going to try." + +"If you love me well, Brother Horace," said Fledra, "won't you believe +that I'd do anything for Sister Ann and you?" + +He nodded his head; but did not speak. + + * * * * * + +When he reached Ithaca, Lem Crabbe found a flood besieging the forest +city. The creeks of Cascadilla and Six Mile Gorge had overflowed their +banks, and the lower section of the town was under water. He had come +back for the scow, and to find Scraggy. He was determined to force from +her the whereabouts of his son. He wended his way toward the hut of one +of his friends at the inlet, and hailed the boat that conveyed the +squatters to and fro in flood-time. As the boat lapped the muddy water +breaking into the weeds and brushes, Lem saw Eli Cronk perched in +another boat, with a spear in his hand. + +"Eli!" shouted Lem. + +Eli greeted him with a wave of the pole. + +The boats neared each other, and Lem shouted that he wanted to get into +Cronk's craft. + +"What ye doin'?" asked Crabbe, as the boat he had just left shot away +toward the bridge. + +"Catching frogs," replied Eli. "I sell a lot of 'em to the hotels, and +this flood is jest the thing to make 'em thick." He lowered his spear +and brought up a struggling frog. Throwing it into a covered box, he +peered again into the water. + +"Where's Lon?" he said, straightening again with another victim. + +"To Tarrytown." + +"What's he to Tarrytown fer?" + +"He's a gittin' Flea and Flukey. That's where they runned to." + +"He ain't found 'em, has he? Truth, now!" + +"Yep, truth," answered Lem; "and he's got a fine-lookin' lawyer-pup to +git 'em for him." + +As Eli again and again thrust his spear into the water, Lem told the +story of the finding of the twins. He refrained from speaking of his +experience with Screech Owl; but said finally, as if with little +interest: + +"Ye ain't seen Scraggy, has ye?" + +"Nope; and she ain't in her hut, nuther; or she wasn't awhile back, +'cause I stopped there, when I was a lookin' for Lon." + +"When did ye git back to town?" + +"I dunno jest what day it were," responded Cronk, spearing again. + +"Can I git up the tracks, Eli?" inquired Lem presently. + +"Ye'll have to wade in mud to yer knees fer a spell after ye leave the +boat." + +"I can take the hill over the tracks for a way. Will ye row me up as far +as ye can?" + +"Yep, I'll row ye up," replied Eli, proceeding with his work. + + * * * * * + +Late in the afternoon, Lem Crabbe, wet to his knees and covered with +mud, entered the scow. He had stopped at Screechy's hut, knocked, and, +having received no answer, clicked down the hill to the boat. + +He made up his mind to stay there until Scraggy came back; then he would +go back to Tarrytown and bring the twins to Ithaca. Every morning Lem +mounted the hill, only to find that Screech Owl had not returned. But +one day, just at dusk, as he appeared before the hut, he saw the +flickering of a candle. He did not wait to knock, but entered, and found +Scraggy stretched out on the old bed. She looked up as if she had +expected him, noted his dark face, and lowered her head again. + +"Black Pussy's gone, Lem. I've got a cold settin' on me here," she +whispered, wheezing as she laid her hand on her chest. + +"I hope it'll kill ye!" grunted Lem. "What did you leave the toolhouse +fer, when I told ye to stay?" + +"What toolhouse, Lemmy?" The dazed eyes looked up at him in surprise. + +"Don't try none of yer guff on me. I want to know who ye went to see in +Tarrytown, and who the man was that throwed ye over the fence, and then +lugged ye off to that vault?" + +Scraggy sat up painfully. + +"I wasn't throwed over no fence." + +"Ye was, 'cause I seed the man when he done it. I wish now that I'd a +gone and settled with him. Who was he, Screechy?" + +"I dunno," she answered. + +Lem bent over her, his eyes blazing with wrath. + +"Ye want to git yer batty head a workin' damn quick," he shouted, "or +I'll slit yer throat with this!" The rusty hook was thrust near the +thin, drawn face. + +"I can't think tonight," muttered Screech Owl, "'cause the bats be a +runnin' 'bout in my head. When I think, I'll tell ye, Lemmy." + +"Where be that boy?" demanded Lem. + +Scraggy shook her head. Every time she thought of Lem's questions, there +was an infernal tapping of unnumbered winged creatures at the walls of +her brain. + +"There ain't no boy that I knows of," she said listlessly, sinking down +again. "And ye wouldn't slit my neck when I ain't done nothin', would +ye, Lemmy?" + +"Ye has done somethin'," growled Lem. "Ye has kep' that brat from me +these years past, and now he's big 'nough I'm goin' to have him! Ye +hear?" Every word he uttered came forth with effort. The red mark under +his chin moved relentlessly, preventing him from speaking with +clearness. + +Scraggy writhed beneath the tightening grasp of the man's wet fingers. + +"I'll choke ye to death!" Lem gasped, between throaty convulsions. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy dear--" + +Another twist of Lem's fingers, and the woman sank back unconscious. Lem +shook her roughly. + +"Scraggy, Scraggy!" he cried wildly. "Set up! I Want to talk to ye! Set +up!" + +The silence in the gloomy hut, the whiteness of the seemingly dead +woman, filled Lem with superstitious dread. He grasped his lantern and +ran out, failing to close the door. + +The frightened man made off up the hill, and, passing through the +Stebbins farm by the Gothic church and dark graveyard, he tramped the +Trumansburg road to Ithaca. The tracks were covered with water as they +had been when Eli had given him the lift toward the settlement. But the +flood had so receded that by drawing his trousers up over his boots Lem +managed to get through the mud to the bridge. From there he sought the +house of Middy Burnes, where he made an agreement with the tugman that +the scow should be towed from Ithaca to Tarrytown. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE + + +To usher Everett into her home with the same fond heart as hitherto was +more than Ann could do. Dearly as she loved him, much as she desired to +be his wife, it was hard to pardon him for casting aside her interests +for those of the dark-browed squatter. But, womanlike, she felt that she +could break down her lover's determination, and resolved that she would +not hesitate to open argument with him. + +Everett met her with a smile, and her lips trembled as they received his +warm kiss. After they were seated he said: + +"Horace has told you, no doubt, Ann, of the children's case." She nodded +her head sorrowfully. "Your brother seems to feel," went on Everett, +"that I should not have taken charge of it." + +"Neither should you have done so, Everett, unless you've other motives +than we know of." + +She looked up; but lowered her eyes as Brimbecomb glanced at her +furtively. Had Fledra told her of his advances? No, or she would never +have received his kisses. His fears were quieted by this thought, and he +asked gently: + +"What motives could I have other than that justice should be done the +father? I took the case, first, because it came to me; then, because I +think the man ought to have his children." + +Miss Shellington's face darkened. + +"Oh, Everett, you can't be so hard-hearted as to want those poor little +things misused! They have been persecuted by their own people, and you +certainly have more heart than to want that to happen again." + +"It's not a case of feeling; it's a case of justice. I know how this man +has struggled all his life to rear this boy and girl. They've had no +mother, and then, as soon as they were old enough and had the chance, +they ran away." + +"Because he was cruel to them!" + +"I don't believe it. I've had something to do with men, and I'm assured +that he told me the truth. I believe, as he says, that they excused +their leaving home by brazen lies. Have you never caught them lying to +you, Ann?" + +"No, no! They've always been truthful to me." + +"And to Horace?" + +"I haven't asked him. But, if they hadn't been, I am sure he would have +spoken of it. Everett, let me plead with you. They have been with us a +long time, and Horace and I have grown used to them. They need our care +more than I can tell you. The boy is still very ill. Won't you let my +love for you plead for them, and withdraw from the case? Do, Dear, and +let me call Horace. Will you, Everett? He's so sad over it! Oh! may I +call him?" She had risen from her chair; but a negative shake of the +man's head made her resume her place again, and she continued, "It will +be a dreadful thing for them, if they have to go back. Now, listen, +Everett! If you will withdraw and let Horace settle it with that man, +our arrangements," her face was dyed crimson,--"I mean your plans and +mine for our wedding, shall remain as they are. Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise, what?" breathed Everett, bending toward her. + +"I--I shall have to postpone them." Her voice had strengthened as she +spoke, and the last statement was clear and ringing. + +"Oh, you couldn't, Ann! Because I take a perfectly legitimate case, +which comes into our office, you propose to postpone our marriage?" + +"But, Everett, think of what you are doing! It is as if you had taken my +brother by the throat. You were the first one to suggest that he might +love the girl. What if he does?" + +"We will not talk of Horace, please." Everett turned from her as he +spoke. "You and I are the parties interested. If you will aid me, and +you should, seeing that you love me, your brother need not be +considered." + +Ann rose, shuddering. + +"You do not mean, Everett, that you wish to gain my consent that Fledra +and Floyd should go back to Ithaca?" + +Brimbecomb also rose. + +"Fledra and Floyd!" he mimicked smilingly. "What a farce it all is! And +how foolish to give them such names! I should think the governor and his +wife would feel complimented that those kids were called for them! They +are but paupers, after all!" + +"Everett," stammered Ann, "am I just beginning to know you? Oh, you +can't mean it! You're but jesting with me, aren't you, Dear?" Her love +for him impelled her forward, and her slender hands fell upon his +shoulders. He slipped them off, and gathered her fingers into his. + +"Ann," he said earnestly, "I'm not jesting, and I ask you, by your love +for me, to aid me in this, the first thing of importance I have ever +asked you." + +Miss Shellington drew reluctantly away. + +"I can't, I can't! My very soul revolts at the idea." Then, gaining +strength of voice, the girl, marble-white, exclaimed, "If you're not +jesting, and are still determined to follow out your plans," she caught +her breath in a sob and whispered, "then, like my brother, I shall have +to ask you to leave, please." + +A frown darkened Everett's face, followed by an expression of ridicule. + +"Is this your love for me? You would let two strange squatter children +come between us? Am I to understand it so?" + +"You may understand this: that, after knowing that their father is +wicked, that he would have sacrificed his daughter to a vile man, +without marriage to lessen her suffering, after knowing that he tried to +make a thief of his noble-hearted boy,--I say, after knowing all this, +if you can still insist upon helping him, then I would not dare--to +trust--my life with you!" + +Everett's rage blotted out all remembrance of how he left the house; but +there was a vivid picture in his mind of a woman, pale and lovely, +opening the door and dismissing him coldly. He remembered also that she +had shut the door as if it were never to be opened again to him. His +only consolation was that before long he would be able to face Fledra +Cronk and prove his power to her. With this thought came the +satisfaction of knowing that he would be able to wring Horace +Shellington's heart. + +After closing the door upon her lover, Ann stood breathless. The light +had suddenly gone from her sun--the whole living world seemed plunged +into darkness. Everett was gone, gone from her possibly forever. His +face had expressed a determination that proved he would not change his +mind. Why had he reasoned himself into thinking that justice could be +served in the squatter's cause? Everett must have a motive. Her judgment +told her to accuse the man she loved; her heart demanded that she excuse +him. For one instant her generous spirit balanced the squatter +children's welfare and her own future. She had promised to protect +Fledra and Floyd, promised them and Horace. Only a broken prayer escaped +her lips as she turned and walked quickly down the hall. She did not +wait to knock, but twisted the door-handle convulsively, and appeared +before her brother without a plea for pardon for her unannounced +entrance. + +"He's gone forever!" she said brokenly. "Oh, oh, I can't--" + +She swayed forward, and suddenly a merciful oblivion rested her +turbulent spirit, during which her agonized brother worked, hoping and +praying that she might soon know how he pitied and loved her. + +At length, when she opened her eyes and gazed at him, Ann murmured under +her breath, with a world of pleading: + +"Don't speak of him--don't! Dear heart, I can't--I can't bear it!" + +It was not until long afterward that Horace Shellington heard of the +scene through which she had passed. + + * * * * * + +Everett Brimbecomb's card admitted him to the governor's home. Mrs. +Vandecar welcomed him with outstretched hands. + +"Strange, Everett," said she, "but I was thinking only this afternoon +that I should ask you to dinner. I feel ashamed that I haven't before; +but I've been such an invalid for a long time! You must be lonely, now +that your father and mother are gone." + +"I've been busy." + +The other laughed understandingly. + +"Ah! I had forgotten that a young engaged man has but few free evenings +on his hands." + +To this Everett did not reply. + +"How is dear Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar. + +"I left her quite well; but not in the best of spirits. In fact, dear +little lady," and he bent over the white hand he held, "I've come to ask +a favor of you." + +"Is it anything about Ann? I can't have matters disarranged between you +two. I've always said you were an ideal couple." + +"Thank you," murmured Everett. + +Her frank words somewhat shattered his courage; for he knew her to be +kind-hearted. He did not expect to have her make any impression upon the +Shellington brother and sister; but wished her assistance as far as her +husband was concerned. + +He kept his gaze so long upon the floor that Mrs. Vandecar spoke: + +"I'm glad you came to me, Everett." + +"Yes, I'm glad, too, and I need your help just now. The fact is, Ann and +I have had words over a case I have taken charge of in the office." + +"How very strange!" exclaimed the woman, mystified. + +"It's no more strange to you than to me," went on Everett, after they +were seated. "First, Horace and I quarreled, and then, thinking Ann +would uphold me in my work, I went to her; getting about the same +reception I had received from him." + +"I should never have believed it of either of them," faltered Mrs. +Vandecar. "But do tell me about it." + +"Horace and Ann, as you know, have a boy and a girl in their charge." + +The governor's wife sat up interestedly. + +"I have heard of them," said she; "but have never seen them. I asked Ann +over the telephone one day this week, if I sent Katherine for the girl, +would she allow her to come and spend an afternoon with Mildred. But she +said that--" + +"Fledra, they call her," interrupted Brimbecomb, with a keen glance at +his companion. + +"Yes, so I've heard. Ann said that this Fledra was not going out at +all." + +"Do you know why?" + +"Why, I supposed that it was because their father had asked for them and +they feared some foul play." + +"Foul play!" cried Brimbecomb. "Why, Mrs. Vandecar, don't you think that +a father ought to have his own children?" Everett's eyes pierced her +gaze until it dropped. + +"Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them." + +"It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about. +I have accepted the father's case." + +"Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know +Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?" + +Everett twisted nervously. + +"She has no right to have her heart set upon them. Now, here is what I +want you to do. Ann is wearing away her health with these scrubs of +humanity, for which she won't even receive gratitude, and Horace looks +like a June shad. The boy has been sick constantly since he's been +there. If there were no hospitals in the town, it might be different. I +must make a move to separate the girl I love from the burden she can't +bear." + +Everett averted his face. Until that moment this excuse had not come +into his mind. If Mrs. Vandecar had any affection at all for Ann, the +thought that the girl was making herself ill would tempt her to +interfere. + +"Everett, does Ann know why you want to take them away from her?" + +"Of course not; I couldn't tell her that, nor Horace, either. They would +have promptly told me to attend to my own affairs; but I could come to +you." + +"I'm so glad--I'm so glad you did! And poor Ann, I wish she would allow +her friends to help her! She's such a darling in her charitable work, +though, isn't she?" + +"I don't agree with you," dissented Everett. + +"But you must admit, boy, that a girl who will make a hospital of her +home, who will wear out her strength for two little strangers, has the +heart of Christ in her." + +"I admit her goodness," said Everett slowly, "or I should not want her +for my wife. But you can't blame me when I say that I desire her to be +herself again." + +Mrs. Vandecar rose. + +"Well, come in to dinner, and we can still talk. Mildred has gone to her +father in Albany with Katherine for a day or two, and I'm alone." + +When they were seated, Everett pressed his plea again. + +"I don't think Ann would have been so stubborn in the matter, if Horace +had not insisted upon it. And I know that you will be surprised to hear +that he is in love with the girl, a little pauper who uses bad English +and swears like a pirate." + +Fledra Vandecar dropped her fork and started back from the table. + +"Everett, has Horace lost his mind, or what is it? What can there be in +two children--for they are very young--to have such a hold upon a man +like Horace and a woman like Ann?" + +"I have asked myself that a dozen times, and more," commented Everett. +"But now you understand why I want to do something to relieve these +misguided young people--to say nothing of my love for Ann?" + +"I do understand," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and I can't blame you. But, +really, I don't see what I can do, without incurring the enmity of both +of my friends." + +"Your husband," breathed Everett. + +"Is pledged to Horace in this very matter, and, of course, I couldn't +take a stand against him. Everett, why don't you drop the case and let +time take its course? I fear that you're going the wrong way." + +Brimbecomb bit his lip. He might have known that Horace would apply to +the governor; but he had hoped to steal a march upon him and to keep the +state's official from aiding him. But Everett also knew what an +influence Mrs. Vandecar had over her husband, and now rejoined: + +"I have gone too far with it; and, what's more, if I have to bear the +brunt of the thing alone, I'll free Ann from a presence that has +completely changed her! Have you seen her lately?" + +Mrs. Vandecar shook her head. + +"I haven't," she admitted slowly. "I haven't been well enough to go out, +and she hasn't been here. I have heard from her only now and then on the +'phone. Poor child! I must try to get over there tomorrow." + + * * * * * + +Next day Ann met Mrs. Vandecar with open arms. + +"Oh, Fledra," said she, "I've longed for you so many days! I do +appreciate your coming!" + +"I knew you would, Ann. You are the first acquaintance I have called on +in weeks. But, honey girl, you don't look well." + +Ann's eyes filled with tears. Fledra Vandecar was one of the many bright +rays of sunshine in her past life, when she had been happy and +contented, when Everett had been her lover, and Horace at ease. Now her +life was all chaos. Misery, fright, and a troubled heart were her +constant companions. + +Mrs. Vandecar leaned over and gently brushed back a lock of hair from +the girl's brow. + +"Ann, dear, can't you tell me what is the matter?" + +"There's so very much, it would weary you." + +"Indeed, no! Mayn't I stay with you just a little while?" + +Ann checked back her emotion and rose. + +"Pardon, Dear; I didn't dream that you could." + +"Of course I can. Mildred is in Albany. How happy I should be if I could +help you!" + +"Time only will do that, Fledra. It will take many weeks before Horace +and I are running in our old home gait. But I love to have you here, +especially as Horace has gone out for a long drive. He will be away all +the afternoon." + +"That's too bad," interjected Mrs. Vandecar. "I hoped to see him. And, +Ann, I want also to see those children." + +"The girl is riding with Horace today--she gets out so little, and +Brother insisted upon taking her. The boy is still very ill." + +"Is he too ill for me to see him?" + +Ann hesitated. + +"Well, his heart is affected, and anything unusual throws him into a new +spell. We keep all trouble from him." + +Mrs. Vandecar touched her friend gently. + +"And you've had enough of his to bear, poor Ann!" + +"We don't consider it a trouble to do anything for those we love. I +wonder if you would like to peep at him--making no noise, remember! He +is sleeping under a drug. Come, Dear, and I'll look at him first." + +The governor's wife followed Ann to Floyd's door, and waited until a +beckoning finger called her in. She entered the darkened chamber, and +paused a moment to get her bearings. Miss Shellington was near the bed, +her eyes calling. + +"He's sound asleep," she whispered. + +With his head thrown back a little, Floyd's face was turned toward the +wall. His profile and thick black curls were sharply distinct upon the +white pillow-slip. His broad brow was covered with beads of +perspiration, and the lips were muttering incoherent words. Mrs. +Vandecar leaned far over the bed, and peered into his face. Something so +touched her in the thin, sunken cheeks, in the drawn mouth, whispering +in an unnatural sleep, that she drew back weeping. Suddenly words formed +on the sleeper's lips: + +"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild," fell from them, "look upon--look upon--" +Then the whisper trailed once more into incoherence. + +Fledra Vandecar clutched at Ann's sleeve. + +"He's praying, Ann! He's praying!" Miss Shellington bowed her head in +assent. "Poor baby, poor little dear!" Mrs. Vandecar's voice was louder +than before. + +"Hush, hush!" breathed Ann. "Come away. He's so very ill!" + +"Pity--pity my simplicity," murmured Floyd again, "and Lord prepare my +soul a--place!" + +Mrs. Vandecar straightened and flashed the rigid girl at her side an +appealing glance. Ann touched her again, and the two women passed from +the room, weeping. + +"How very beautiful he is!" stammered Mrs. Vandecar. "Oh, Ann, dear, +can't you do something for him? Can't I? Why haven't I tried before? You +won't be offended, will you, Ann, when I say that until this moment I +have never approved of your having him? But I've seldom seen such a +face, and he was--he was praying, poor baby! Poor, little tormented boy! +I wish that he had been awake, or that his sister were here--I want to +see her, too." + +"Yes, you should see her. She is very sweet," replied Ann so gravely +that Mrs. Vandecar wept again. + +Very soon she made ready for home, with no hint of the conversation she +had had with Everett, and no word of advice to Ann about giving up her +charges. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX + + +A letter went that night from Fledra Vandecar to her husband in Albany. +It was written after the woman had paced her room for several hours in +inexplicable disquietude and unrest. Puzzled, the governor read: + + "_Dearest_.-- + + "I went today to see Ann Shellington, with my mind fully made up to + speak to her about the boy and girl who have been with her for + these last few months. Everett was here to dinner last night with + me, and confided in me his trouble with Horace, which has finally + culminated in a breach with Ann. It seems the difficulty arose over + the case of the squatter from Ithaca who has demanded his children. + + "Everett has taken the man's side, and until I called upon Ann I + felt quite in sympathy with him. And still I cannot tell you, + dearest Floyd, what changed my mind, unless it was the sight of + that sick boy. He was sleeping when I went in, and was muttering + over a babyish prayer, which quite touched me. I had no opportunity + to talk with him, nor the girl either. She was riding with Horace, + and Everett tells me that he (Horace) is quite infatuated with the + child. + + "I'm going to ask you, Floyd darling, to help Horace all you can, + and if Everett comes to see you, as he said he was going to, I want + you to know that it is my wish that you should keep to your policy + with Ann and her brother. I cannot tell why I am writing you this, + only that my heart aches for that boy, and that for years I have + never felt so impelled to help a human being as I have him. + + "I thought Everett might tell you that I was won to his way of + thinking by his pleading how he wanted to remove Ann from contact + with the boy and girl; so I hasten to write you. Kiss my precious + Mildred for her mother, and, Floyd, dear, see to it that she + doesn't stay up too late; for she is not strong. I cautioned + Katherine about it; but I'm afraid she might yield to the child's + entreaties. + + "With fondest love to you, my darling, and to my baby and + Katherine, I am, + + "Your own loving wife, + "FLEDRA." + +The governor read and reread the letter, especially the part in which +his wife implored him to aid Horace Shellington. He laid it down with a +sigh. He well knew that Fledra's heart was tender toward all little ones +since the disappearance of her own. All hope that he would ever see his +twin children had left him years before, and now, for some moments, with +his hand on the envelop, his mind wandered into hidden places, where he +saw a boy and a girl growing to manhood and womanhood, and he groaned +deeply. + + * * * * * + +Later, when Everett Brimbecomb was ushered into his office at the +capital, the governor was primed with the sympathy that he had gathered +from his wife's letter. + +"This is something of a surprise, my dear boy," he said. "I did not know +you were coming to Albany so soon." + +"I came with a purpose," replied Everett; "for, as you know, my father +is away, and I need your advice in something." + +Vandecar waited for his visitor to proceed. + +"Do you see any reason," Everett stammered, "why two young lawyers +should not be friends, even if they have to take opposite sides in a +lawsuit?" + +"No," replied the governor slowly. + +"Then I'll lay the whole thing before you, and let you tell me what you +think of it." + +"Have a cigar while we talk," broke in Vandecar, offering Everett his +case. + +In silence they began to smoke, and both remained quiet until the +governor said: + +"Now, explain it to me, please." + +Everett began the story of the children's running away, as the squatter +had told it to him, and of their coming to Horace. He did not forget to +add that he believed Shellington had lied to him the night he came into +the dining-room and discovered Fledra and Floyd with the two little +animals. When a shade passed over the governor's face, Everett quickly +noted that he had made a mistake in the drawing of conclusions. + +"Don't be too hasty, Everett," cautioned Vandecar, shaking an ash +deliberately from his cigar. "Horace is the soul of truth. If he did not +tell it to you, he had good reasons." + +Brimbecomb frowned. He could have bitten his tongue out for making that +misstep. + +"That's so," he admitted. "But, ever since last September, Horace, and I +might say Ann, too, have drawn more and more away from me. For my part, +I see no good that can come of their relations with squatters." + +"It was the most charitable act I have ever heard of," replied Vandecar. +"But you are straying from the case. Do I understand that you have taken +up the side of the father?" + +"Yes." + +"And that you intend to make a move to return his children to him?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +As Everett looked at the stern, unyielding man before him, his excuse to +Mrs. Vandecar seemed tame as it ran through his mind. The governor's +eyes were scanning him critically, almost dazzling him with their +steely gray. An expression in the steady gaze made him tremble; but he +took heart as he thought of the friendship between the governor and his +foster father. + +"It's hardly fair to ask me why I took the case, which came to me in a +legitimate manner," said he. "I can see no reason why the man, although +poor, should not have his own children. Do you?" + +It was a pointed question, and Vandecar waived it by saying: + +"There are always circumstances surrounding these things, such as when +parents are cruel to their children, which might make it advisable, +almost imperative, to take the youngsters away and put them with +reputable people. I think Horace is of the impression that this is true +in the present case." + +"Then is one man's opinion to be taken? Do you advise that?" + +"No; but I do not yet understand why you should be interested against +your friends. I should think that, rather than disagree with them, you +would wish to have nothing to do with it." + +Everett would have to use Ann again to convince the governor of his +right to act. It had been far easier to explain his interest in Cronk to +Mrs. Vandecar than to this quiet, powerful man opposite. The +brown-flecked gray eyes looked unusually sober and truth-demanding. + +"I won't have them any longer with Ann than I can help," Everett broke +forth suddenly. "She is killing herself over them. Have you ever seen +them, Mr. Vandecar?" + +"No." + +"If you had, then you would agree with me. The fact is, your wife thinks +the way I do, but would not help me because you were pledged to Horace. +Your influence over him is great, and I should like to keep this out of +court, if possible. Mrs. Vandecar was rather exercised over Ann." + +With a deliberation that baffled Everett, the governor put down his +cigar and drew a letter from his pocket. He opened it in silence and +glanced at it, while Everett stared uneasily at this unusual proceeding. +Presently the governor looked up casually. + +"You say that my wife is exercised over Ann?" + +"So she told me. She---" + +"Well, just at this time," interjected Vandecar, "Mrs. Vandecar is very +much in sympathy with the boy. She has seen him, since talking with +you." Everett stood up abruptly. "She has changed her mind; so her +letter tells me, Brimbecomb," went on the elder man, "and, as I am +working with Horace, and this thing touches him so deeply, I shall have +to ask you not to come to me for advice or help. You understand," and +the governor rose also, "that, while I have a deep feeling of interest +in you and your work, I must say that I think it would be better taste +for you to withdraw while you can. It will be unpleasant all around, +and, as your father is away, it is rather dangerous to connect your +office with low people." + + * * * * * + +Everett went forth from the interview discomfited, but none the less +firm in his evil purpose. Only a few days later, when Lem Crabbe's scow +was slowly making its way from Ithaca to Tarrytown, _habeas corpus_ +papers were served upon Horace Shellington to produce the twins in court +and to give reasons why they should not be given to their father. + +Horace held a consultation with Ann, and it was decided that they should +appeal to the court for time, procuring a doctor's certificate to prove +that Floyd was too ill even to know of the proceedings. This having been +done, it placed an unlooked-for stay upon Everett Brimbecomb; but he +secured a court order instructing the sheriff to guard the children at +the Shellington home until the boy was well enough to be taken out. So, +a deputy was stationed in the house. + + * * * * * + +In the meantime Lon watched eagerly for the coming of Lem. When at last +he espied the scow fastened in its accustomed place, he went down to +carry the news to the owner. After explaining the matter as far as it +had gone, he ventured: + +"Lem, be ye carin' for Flea yet?" + +"Why?" demanded Lem suspiciously. + +"'Cause we can make some money outen her, if ye gives up yer claim on +her." + +"Ye mean to sell her?" + +Lem's words sounded hoarse as he wheezed them out. + +"'Tain't sellin' her," explained Lon. "A whollopin' good-lookin' feller +wants her, and he says he'll buy yer off and give me money fer her. Will +ye do it, Lem?" + +"Nope, I won't! I want her myself. I been waiting long 'nough fer her." + +"But wouldn't ye ruther have a pocketful of money? I would, I bet ye!" + +"Lon, be ye goin' to do me dirt?" asked Lem darkly. + +Lon straightened his shoulders. + +"Nope, I told him ye had to be buyed off, afore I could say nothin'. But +I thought ye liked money, Lem." + +"So I do; but I like Flea better. I helped ye get 'em when they were +babies, Lon, and ye said--" + +Cronk flung out his arms. + +"I said as how ye wasn't to mention aloud, even to me, that the kids +wasn't mine. Ye has Flea, if ye say so, and I'll tell the lawyer--" + +"Be it that good-lookin' feller what ye give the fifty dollars to what +wants Flea?" Cronk nodded. "I thought ye wouldn't let me marry her," Lem +cried, "and now ye be goin'--" + +Lon interrupted the scowman fiercely: + +"Nuther is he goin' to marry her--ye can bet on that! No kid of +Vandecar's gets a boost up from me--a boost down, more like!" + +"I'll kill the feller if he touches her," growled Lem, "and ye can make +up yer mind to that, Lon!" + +Lon Cronk shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. + +"Take her if ye want her, Lem. I won't put no straw in yer way. But I +never could see what ye wanted her fer. She's a big mouth to feed, let +me tell ye!" + +For some moments the two men sat in the darkening scow and smoked in +silence. Suddenly Lem looked up. + +"We couldn't get ahead of the nasty scamp, could we, Lon? I mean, could +we git the money, and then keep the gal?" + +"I don't want her," growled Lon; "she couldn't stay with me no more." + +"We oughter make him pay the money, though," Lem insisted. + +"Then, if ye has Flea, Lem," said Lon, looking keenly at the scowman, +"and ye git yer share of money, ye has to share up yer half with me. +See?" + +"Yep," muttered Lem. "Will ye bring the feller down here some day, and +we'll talk it over?" + +Lon acquiesced by a nod of his head, saying only, "Come on out, and +let's get a drink." + +"When's he goin' to git 'em--Flea and Flukey, I mean?" + +"I dunno. The boy's too sick to come to court. He's liable to die any +minute." + +Lem started forward at the unexpected word. + +"If he croaks, be ye goin' to leave Flea there?" + +"Not by a damn sight! We'll git her, and I don't care if the boy goes +dead afore mornin'. I only want him to suffer, and die if he wants to. +And, Lem," Lon smiled evilly, and, looking into the swart face of his +pal, said, "and I guess ye can make the gal come to yer likin'." + +Lem's throat worked visibly, his face reddened by the silent laughter +that shook him. + +"I only want the chance," he said. "Come on and let's git a drink." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN + + +Everett Brimbecomb had become impatient. He missed his evenings with +Ann, and was tortured with the thought that Horace was with Fledra. +Every day made his hatred for his former friend more deadly, more +vindictive, and he not only desired to take the squatter girl away, but +he felt impelled to separate Ann from her brother. He received a badly +spelled note from Lon with a feeling of thanksgiving. Something had +happened to make the squatter wish to see him. So, after dinner, he took +the direction Lon had given, and reached the scow in a heavy rain. It +was much more to his liking that the evening should be stormy; for no +person of his own station in life would be apt to be abroad on such a +night. + +As he entered the living-room of the scow, Everett bowed frigidly to Lem +Crabbe, and forgot to extend his hand to Lon. + +"You sent for me," he said in a low tone, looking at the squatter. + +"Yep. I knowed ye wanted to see Lem, and I thought as how ye'd ruther +come here than have him come along to yer office. Ain't that right?" + +"I believe I told you so," responded Everett coldly, as he took his +place in a rickety chair. + +"Ye said, didn't ye, Mister, that ye wanted the handlin' of Flea after +we took her away from that meddlin' millionaire?" + +"Yes." + +"And I telled ye that ye had to make a bargain with Lem, 'cause he had +first right to her. What ye willin' to give?" + +"How much money do you want to withdraw your claim from the girl?" + +"I ain't thought 'bout no price," replied Lem covertly. + +"Then think and listen to me. I have an idea in my mind that we can take +the girl away from that house, if not tomorrow, at least in a few days." + +Lem's eyes glistened, and Lon placed his clay pipe carefully upon the +table. + +"Lip it out, then, Mister," said the latter; "and, if me and Lem's +agreein' with ye, then we'll help ye." + +Everett moved uneasily in the creaking chair. He did not desire to +dicker with these ruffians; but it was necessary, if he wished to carry +out his plans concerning Fledra. + +"The boy is likely to die any moment. The girl is the only one who can +help you, Mr. Cronk." Everett had meaning in his voice, and his words +made Lem swallow hard. + +"I was a thinkin' that myself," ruminated Lon. + +"The girl idolizes her brother and Mr. Shellington. If you could make +her understand that they would otherwise both be killed through your +instrumentality, she would leave the house of her own free will, I'm +sure." + +Lon, grimacing with delight, bounded up and faced Lem. + +"That be so! That comes of gittin' a lawyer what's got stuff in his +head, ye see, Lem. I told ye that when ye said as how we could get them +kids without spendin' no money." + +"You will have to use great care, both of you," Everett urged, "and it +only means for you to take the girl, as you first planned, to Ithaca; +and I will come after her. You will both have your money, and our +business together will be at an end." Lem laughed, but with no sound. +"Just how to get this girl is more than I have figured out," Everett +continued; "but it might be well for me to try and get a letter to her. +I have been a steady visitor at Shellington's home for many years. We +are hardly upon good terms now; but I could manage it, if one of you men +would write it. Make the letter strong, and you will gain your ends. You +may bring it to my office tomorrow, Mr. Cronk." He rose, buttoned up his +raincoat, and went out, leaving two gaping men looking after him. + + * * * * * + +Since the papers had been served upon him, Horace had had no peace of +mind. The solemn deputy loitering about the home menaced the whole +future. It sickened him when he forced his imagination to dwell upon +Fledra's future, if she were dragged back to Ithaca, and he had rather +place Floyd in his grave than give him into the hands of the squatter. +Suddenly, one morning, he took a great resolution, and no sooner had he +made up his mind to take the one step that would change his whole life +than he called Ann to tell her about it. + +"I'm going to marry Fledra," he said, catching his breath. + +Ann dropped her hands fearfully; but intense interest gathered on her +face. + +"I can save her no other way," he went on, almost in excuse, noting her +glance. "And you must have seen, Ann, dear, that I love the child. Sit +down here and let me tell you about it." + +He began at the beginning, telling her of his early growing love, of his +desire to make the squatter child his wife. Ann allowed him to narrate +his story impulsively, without interruption. + +Then she said gently: + +"Horace, dear, have you told her that you love her?" + +"Yes; but I am going to tell her again this morning." + +"Ask her now," suggested Ann eagerly, and she rose. + +Horace found Fledra with Floyd, and she lifted her eyes confidingly to +his with a smile. For a long time he had been so tender, so loving, that +the specter bred and fostered by Everett Brimbecomb's kisses had nearly +vanished. + +"Floyd is so much better this morning!" she said. Her words were well +chosen, and she pronounced her brother's new name carefully. + +Floyd held out his hand and raised himself slowly up. + +"Look, Brother Horace!" he cried eagerly. "Look--just this morning I've +been able to stand up! Sister Ann says in a few days I can walk." + +Horace held the thin, white fingers in his for an instant. + +"So you will, boy. It won't be long before you can get out." + +The words startled Fledra. Not until the trouble of Lon's coming had she +wished that Floyd might linger in the sickroom. The man outside, +watching every movement in the house, frightened her. She knew that when +her brother was well enough he and she would be called away for the +court's decision as to their future. + +"Floyd, will you spare your sister just a few moments? I want to talk +with her." + +"Course I will, Brother Horace. Scoot along, Fledra!" + +"This way, child," whispered Horace. "I've something--oh, such a dear +something!--to say to you." + +They quietly passed the deputy, who only raised his eyes, smiled at +Fledra, and dropped his gaze again to his paper. When Horace's door was +closed, Horace took Fledra into his embrace and kissed her again and +again. She loved the warmth of his arms, and the delight of his kisses +caused her to rest unresisting until he chose to speak. + +"Fledra, dear, will you marry me--immediately?" + +His question brought her to rigidity. + +"You mean--" + +"I mean that all our troubles are going away." + +Fledra drew slowly from him. + +"How can our troubles go away?" she asked. + +"By your consenting." + +"I told you once, and more than once, that I couldn't tell you. Won't +you ever understand?" + +But Horace did not loosen his hold upon her. He drew the dark head +against him tenderly. + +"You misunderstood, Fledra. I am going to trust you in everything. I am +going to put all my faith in you, and to save you and your brother from +a fearful life. I must make you my wife!" + +Fledra drew a long breath. All the stumbling petitions she had made to +Heaven were answered by those few words. At last, to be Horace's wife, +to save Flukey, and to protect Ann, who would now have back her lover! +It seemed to the young girl, in this flashing moment of thought, that +all the clouds of the last few months had floated over their heads and +away. + +"It will take a few days before I can arrange our marriage," explained +Horace. "One reason for not arranging today is that I have to run down +to New York for two or three days; and then, too, I must be careful not +to let anyone know of our plans. I want you to talk with my sister. I +have told her that I love you." + +"Was she sorry?" whispered Fledra. + +"No--very, very glad!" + +"And can I tell Floyd?" + +"Yes, just as soon as you like. I have an idea your happiness will go +far to make him well." + + * * * * * + +For an hour Horace refused to let her leave him, and when Fledra did go +back to the sick brother her face was radiant with happiness. Floyd was +not prepared for the rush of words or the passionate appeal with which +she met him. + +Blinking his eyes, the boy waved his sister back. + +"I can't make out what you're saying, Flea." + +"I'm going to marry Brother Horace!" She stopped, and began again. "I'm +going to marry Horace--oh, so soon, Fluke! And aren't you glad? And then +they can't take us away!" + +It was the first intimation Floyd had had of their danger. He rose up, +standing upon his legs tremblingly. + +"Has anybody been trying to take us away, Flea?" + +Then Fledra realized what she had said, and hesitated in fear. + +"I forgot, you weren't to know, Fluke. Will you wait till I call Brother +Horace?... Fluke, don't be trembling like that! Sit down, Fluke!... +Fluke!" + +Floyd's face had paled, even to the tips of his ears. He realized now +that danger had hung over the fair young sister and he had not known of +it. + +"It's Pappy Lon, and ye never told me, Flea, and that's why ye been so +unhappy! He'll take ye away because yer his kid, and Brother Horace +can't do anything." + +"Yes, he can, Fluke--yes, he can! He loves me, and I love him, and he's +going to marry me! Nobody can't take a wife away from her man!... Fluke, +don't wabble like that! Brother Horace! Brother Horace!" + +Fledra's voice reached the dreaming man, bending over his desk, and he +bounded to answer her call. He found her supporting her brother, white +and shivering, with eyes strained by fright. + +"I told him," gasped Fledra looking up; "but I didn't mean to." + +"Told him what?" + +"Pappy Lon," muttered Floyd, "comin' for Flea!" + +Horace caught the words in dismay. + +He placed the suffering boy on the divan and bent close. In low tones +he said that the squatter in some mysterious way had found where they +were, and that he had come for them. He began at the beginning, +explaining to the boy Lon's demand upon him. He refrained, however, from +mentioning Everett, because of the pain to his sister. He had just +finished the story, when Ann softly opened the door and came in. + +"But I insist that you will place your faith in me, Floyd. I shall see +to it that neither you nor your sister leave me--unless you go of your +own free will," Horace concluded. + +"If Pappy Lon takes one of us," muttered Floyd, as Miss Shellington +calmed him with sweet interest, "let him take me. I'm as good as dead, +anyhow. I want Flea to marry Brother Horace." + +"And so she will," assured Ann. "Now then, Dear, try and sleep." + +During the rest of the afternoon Ann held conferences with her brother, +fluttering back and forth from him to Floyd, and then to Fledra. She +noted that the strained expression had gone from the girl's face, and +uttered a little prayer of thanksgiving when she heard Horace's hearty +laugh ring out once more. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT + + +Everett Brimbecomb took the letter Lon Cronk handed him, without rising +from his chair. + +"It be for Flea," said Lon, grinning, "and I think she'll understand it. +It's as plain as that nose on yer face, Mister." + +"May I read it?" asked the lawyer indifferently. Then, as Lon nodded, he +slipped the letter deftly from the finger-marked envelop and read the +contents with a smile. "It's strong enough," he said, replacing it. "I, +too, think she'll succumb to that. If you'll leave this letter with me, +I'll see that she gets it." + +Everett put the envelop in a drawer and implied that the interview was +at an end. But the squatter twirled his cap in his fingers and lingered. + +"Lem says as how he'll take the gal and me in his scow to Ithaca. Ye can +follow us when ye git ready." + +The younger man stood up, nodding his approval. + +"That'll be just the way to do it, and I shall look to you, Mr. Cronk, +to keep faith with me. Frankly speaking, I do not like your friend. I +think he's a rascal." + +"Well, he be a mean cuss; but there be other cusses besides Lem, +Mister." + +Brimbecomb flushed at the meaning glance in the squatter's shrewd eyes. + +"All you both have to do," said he bruskly, "is to spend the money I'll +give you--and keep your mouths shut." + +If Everett had noted the crafty expression on the squatter's face as the +latter walked down the street, he would not have been so satisfied over +his deal with Lon. After he was alone, he reread Cronk's letter. Later +he wrote steadily for sometime. His communication also was for Fledra, +and he intended by hook or crook to get it to her with the other. + + * * * * * + +There never had been greater rejoicing in the Shellington home than on +the night when it was settled that Fledra was to marry Horace. It was +decided that after the wedding the girl should have tutors and +professors. A lovelight had appeared in the gray eyes when she promised +Ann that she would study diligently until Horace and Floyd and all her +dear ones would be proud of her advancement. How gently Ann encircled +the little figure before she said goodnight, and how tearfully she +congratulated Horace that he had won such a fond, faithful heart for his +own! Even after kissing Floyd, and tucking the coverlet about his +shoulders, the young woman was again drawn to Fledra. + +"May I come in, Darling?" she whispered. + +Fledra did not cease combing her curls before the mirror when she +welcomed Miss Shellington. + +"I simply couldn't go to bed, child," said Ann, "until I came to see you +again. I feel so little like sleeping!" + +Fledra turned a blushing, happy face upon her friend. + +"And I'm not going to sleep tonight, either. I'm going to stay awake all +night and be glad." + +This brought Ann's unhappiness back to her, and she smiled sadly as she +thought of her own tangled love-affair. + +"I want you and my brother to be very happy." + +Fledra dropped her comb and looked soberly at the other. + +"I'm not good enough for him," she said, with a sigh; "but he loves me, +and I love him more than the whole world put together, Sister Ann." + +The young face had grown radiant with idealized love and faith, and +through the shining gray eyes, in which bits of brown shaded to golden, +Ann could see the girl's soul, pure and lofty. She marked how it had +grown, had expanded, under great love, and marveled. + +"I know that, Dearest. I wish I were as happy as you!" + +The pathos in her tones, the sad lines about Ann's sweet mouth, made +Fledra grasp her hands in girlish impetuousness. + +"He'll come back to you, Sister Ann, some day," she breathed. "He thinks +Pappy Lon ought to have us kids, and that's what makes him work against +you and Brother Horace. He can't stay away from you long." + +Ann shook her head mournfully. + +"I fear he doesn't love me, Fledra, or he couldn't have done as he has. +Sometimes it seems as if I must send for him; for he isn't bad at +heart." She rested her eyes on Fledra's face imploringly. "You think, +don't you, Dear, that when a woman loves a man as I love him her love in +the end will help him?" + +Fledra thought of her own mad affection for Horace, of his love for her, +and of how her longing for him stirred the very depths of her soul, +uplifting and refreshing it. She nodded her head. + +"He'll come back to her, all right," she murmured after Ann had gone and +she had thrown herself on the bed. "Floyd will get well, and Horace and +I--" She dropped asleep, and the morning had fully dawned before she +opened her eyes to another day. + + * * * * * + +Then, as Fledra sat up in bed, brushed back the curls from her face, and +with the eagerness of a child thought over the happy yesterday, suddenly +her eyes fell upon an envelop, lying on the carpet just beneath her +window. It had not been there the night before. She slipped to the +floor, picked up the sealed letter with her name on it, and climbed into +bed again, while examining it closely. With a mystified expression upon +her face, she tore open the envelop. Unfolding one of the two letters, +inclosed, she read: + + "_Flea Cronk_.-- + + "This is to tell ye that if ye don't come back with me and Lem, + we'll kill that guy Shellington and Flukey. Flukey can stay there + if he wants to, if you come. Make up yer mind, and don't ye tell + any man that I writ this letter. Come to Lem's scow in the river, + or ye know what I does to Flukey. + + "LON CRONK." + +Fledra folded up the letter and opened the other one dazedly. It was +written with a masterly pen-stroke, and the girl, without reading it, +looked at the signature. It was signed, "Everett Brimbecomb." Her eyes +flashed back to the beginning, and she read it through swiftly: + + "_Little Miss Cronk_.-- + + "I am delivering this letter in a peculiar way, because I know that + you had rather not have anyone see it. It is necessary that you + should think calmly and seriously over the question I am going to + ask you. I am very fond of you. Whether or not you will return my + affection is a thing for you to decide in the future. Now, then, + the question is, Do you want to protect your brother and your + friends from the anger of your father? If so, you must go with him. + I will answer for it that your brother stays where he is; but you + must go away. Think well before you decide not to go; for I know + the men who are determined to have you, and would save you if I + could. I shall try to see you very soon. Destroy this letter + immediately. Your friend, + + "EVERETT BRIMBECOMB." + +Fledra sat as if in a trance, her eyelids drooping over almost sightless +eyes. The last blow had fallen upon her, and she knew that she must go. +That she could ever be forced away thus without her brother, that Horace +could be given no chance to help her, had never crossed her mind. +Through her imagination drifted Lon's dark, cruel face, followed by a +vision of Lem Crabbe. Feature after feature of the scowman came vividly +to her,--the wind-reddened skin, the foul, tobacco-browned lips, the +twitching goiter,--all added to the nervous chill that had suddenly come +upon the girl. Lem and Lon represented all the world's evil to her, and +Everett Brimbecomb all the world's influence. The three had thrust their +triple strength between her and happiness. Her dear ones should not fall +before the wrath of Lem and Lon, or before the unsurmountable power of +Everett Brimbecomb! In her hands alone lay their salvation. Like one +stunned, she rose from the bed and carefully destroyed the two letters. +This was the one command she would obey promptly. + +When Ann knocked softly at the door, and no answer came, she gently +pushed it open. Fledra lay with her face to the wall as if asleep. Miss +Shellington bent over her, and then crept quietly out to allow the girl +to rest another hour. No sooner had the door closed than Fledra sat up +with clenched fists, her face blanched with terror. She could not +confront the inevitable without help. But not once did it occur to her +that Horace Shellington would be able to protect not only her, but +himself also. The path of her future life stretched from Tarrytown to +Ithaca, straight into Lem's scow! + + * * * * * + +Through the entire day the girl was enigmatical both to Horace and to +Ann. Weary hours, crowding one upon another, offered her no relief. The +thought of Lon's letter shattered hope and made her desolate. She did +not stop to reason that her relations with Horace demanded that she tell +him of Everett's perfidy. Had not her loved ones been threatened with +death, if she disclosed having received the letters? She spent most of +the day with Floyd, saying but little. + +In the evening Fledra waited wide-eyed and sleepless until the household +was quiet, and while she waited she pondered dully upon a plan to +escape. Toward night two faint hopes had taken possession of her: +Everett Brimbecomb could help her; Pappy Lon might. Before leaving Floyd +and severing her connections with Horace, she would appeal to the +squatter and his lawyer. She opened the window and looked out. It was +but a short drop to the path at the side of the house. + +At half-past ten Fledra slipped into her coat and set a soft, light cap +upon her black curls. In another minute she had reached the road and had +turned toward Brimbecomb's. To escape any eyes in the house she had just +left, she scurried to the graveyard. For an instant only did she halt, +and, somber-eyed, glance over the graves. She could easily mark the spot +where she had lain so long with Floyd, and tears welled into her eyes as +she thought of him. How many things had happened since then! In hasty +review came week after week of the time she had spent with Horace and +Ann. How she loved them both! Turning, she scanned the gloomy Brimbecomb +house. In the servants' quarters at the top several lights burned, while +on the drawing-room floor a gas-jet shot forth its beams into Sleepy +Hollow. If Mr. Brimbecomb were at home, then he must be in that room. +Fledra crouched under the window. + +"Mr. Brimbecomb! Mr. Brimbecomb!" she called. + +Silence, as dense as that in God's Acre near her, reigned in the house. +She called again, a little louder. Suddenly she heard a rapid step upon +the road and crept back again to the corner of the building. + +Everett Brimbecomb was passing under the arc light, and Fledra could see +his handsome face plainly in its rays. + +He stopped a moment and looked at Shellington's house, with a shrug of +his shoulders. Again he resumed his way; but halted as Fledra called his +name softly. From her hiding-place in the shadow of the porch she came +slowly forward. + +"Can I talk with you a few moments, Mr. Brimbecomb?" she faltered. "I +know that you can help me, if you will." + +Everett's heart began to beat furiously. Something in the appealing girl +attacked him as nothing else had. How slim she looked, how lithe and +graceful, and yet so childishly young! He compared her with Ann in rapid +thought, and remembered that he had never felt toward Horace's sister as +he did toward this obscure girl. + +"Come in," he murmured; "we can't talk here. Come in." + +"Let me tell you out here in the night," stammered Fledra. + +Everett touched her arm, urging her forward. + +"They may see us from the Shellingtons'," he said; and, in spite of her +unwillingness, he forced her up the steps. Like the wind of a hurricane, +a mixture of emotions stormed in his soul. He dared not do as he wished +and take the girl in his arms. He checked his desire to force his love +upon her, and motioned to a chair, into which Fledra sank. Like shining +ebony, her black hair framed a death-pale face. The darkness of a new +grief had deepened the shade in the mysterious eyes. For an instant she +paused on the edge of tears. + +"I don't want to go back with Pappy Lon!" she whispered. + +Everett caught his breath. She was even more lovely than he had +remembered. Inwardly he cursed the squatters. If he could eliminate them +from his plans--but they were necessary to him. + +"I don't like none o' the bunch of ye!" Fledra burst out in his silence. +Brimbecomb's lips formed a slight smile. The girl pondered a moment, and +continued fiercely, "And I hate Ithaca and all the squatters!" + +"You speak very much like your father," ventured the lawyer. "I can't +understand why you hate him. Your place is with him." + +The girl bowed her head and wept softly. She realized that when she was +excited she could not remember her English. + +"I've been a squatter," she said, forlornly shaking her head, "and I +s'pose Pappy Lon has a right to me; but I love--" + +"You love whom?" + +"Mr. Shellington. Oh, Mr. Brimbecomb, can't ye help me to keep away from +Pappy Lon? Can't ye make him see that I don't want to go back--that I +can't go back to Lem Crabbe ever?" + +"There's no danger of your going to--what did you say his name was?" + +"Lem Crabbe--the man with a hook on his arm. I hate him so!" + +"I remember seeing him once. I don't think you need worry over going +with him. Your father is not a fool." + +"He promised me to Lem!" wailed Flea. + +"And he--promised--you to--me!" + +So deliberately did Everett speak that Fledra was on her feet before the +sentence was finished. Horror, deep-seated, rested in the eyes raised to +his. Oh, surely she had not heard aright! + +"What did ye say?" she demanded. + +"Your father has promised you to me." + +"Oh, that's why you done it, was it? That's why ye fit Sister Ann and +Brother Horace? 'Cause ye wanted me to go with ye! I hate ye like I +hate--the devil!" + +Her words, grossly coarse, struck and stung the man to action. He strode +forward and grasped her arm roughly in his fingers. + +"You little fury, what do I care how much you hate me? It's a man's +pleasure to conquer a woman like you. You can have your choice between +the other man and me." + +Dumb with fright and amazement, his treachery driving every thought from +her mind for the moment, Fledra looked at him. + +"I'd rather go with Lem," she got out at last, "'cause I couldn't stand +yer hellish pretty face nor yer white teeth. They look like them big +stones standing over the dead men out yonder." + +With a backward motion of her head toward the window, Fledra drawled out +the last words insultingly. That she preferred Lem to him wounded +Everett's pride, but made him desire her the more. He loved her just +then so much that, if it had been in his power, he would have married +her instantly. Her fine-fibered spirit attracted all the evil in him as +a magnet draws a needle. Fledra brought him from his reverie. + +"There ain't no use of my standin' here any longer," she said. "I might +as well go and ask Pappy Lon. He's better'n you." + +To let her go this way seemed intolerable. + +"Wait," he commanded, "wait! When you came in, I didn't mean to offend +you. Will you wait?" + +"If ye'll help me keep away from Pappy Lon, and will promise nothin' +will happen to Brother Horace or to Fluke." + +"I can't do that; it's impossible. But I can take you away, after you +get back to Ithaca." + +"Can I come back to Brother Horace?" + +"No, no; you can't go there again! Now, listen, Fledra Cronk. I'll marry +you as soon as you'll let me." + +Fledra's eyelids quivered. + +"I'll stay with Pappy Lon and Lem, because I love Sister Ann too well to +go with you." + +"Oh, I thought that was the reason," said Everett. "All your hard words +to me were from your tender, grateful heart. That only makes me like you +the better." + +Fledra turned to go. + +"But I don't like you, and I never will. Let me go now, because I'm +goin' down to the scow to Pappy Lon." + +Brimbecomb threw out an arm with an impetuous swing; but Fledra darted +under it. + +"Don't--don't!" she cried brokenly. "Don't you never touch me, +never--never! I don't want you to! Let me go now, please." + +Everett stepped aside and allowed her to reach the door. + +"I shall help you, if I can, child," he put in, as she sprang out. +"Remember--" + +But Fledra did not wait to hear. She was outside the door and flying +down the steps. + + * * * * * + +The wind came sharply from the north as, dejectedly, the girl made her +way to the river. She had decided to appeal to Lon, to beg her future of +him. Before she reached the scow, she could hear the gurgle of the +river, and the sound of the water came familiarly to her ears. Lem's +boat lay like a silent, black animal near the bank, and she came to a +stop at sight of it. How many times had she seen the dark boat snuggled +in the gloom as she saw it now! How many times before had the candle +twinkled from the small window, and the sign of life caused her to +shiver in fear! But, thinking of what Lon's consent for her to remain +with her dear ones meant, she mounted the gangplank and descended the +short flight of stairs. + +Lon was seated in a chair by the table, and Lem on a stool nearby. +Crabbe rose as the pale girl appeared before him; but Lon only displayed +two rows of dark teeth. It seemed to him that all his waiting was over; +that his wife's constant haunting of his strong spirit would cease, if +he could tear the girl from her high estate and watch the small head +bend under the indignities Lem would place upon her. The very fact that +she had come when he had sent for her showed the fear in which she held +him. + +Fledra unloosened her wrap from her throat as if it choked her. + +"How d'y' do, Flea?" grinned Cronk. His delight was like that of a small +boy who has captured a bright-winged butterfly in a net. + +"I got yer letter, Pappy Lon," said Fledra, overlooking his impudent +manner. + +"And ye goin' to stay, ain't ye?" gurgled Lem. + +Fledra snapped out "Nope!" to the scowman's question, without looking at +him. Her next words were directed to the squatter: + +"I've come to beg ye, Pappy Lon, to let me stay in Tarrytown. Mr. +Shellington wants to marry me." + +She was so frail, so girlishly sweet and desirable, that Lem uttered an +oath. But Lon gestured a command of silence. + +"Ye can't marry no man yit, Flea," said he. "Ye has to go back to the +hut." Determination rang in his words, and the face of the rigid girl +paled, and she caught at the table for support. "Ye see," went on Lon, +"a kid can't do a thing her pappy says she can't. I says yer to come +home to the shanty. And, if ye don't, then I'll do what I said I would. +I'll kill that dude Shellington and--" + +Before he could finish, Fledra burst in upon him. + +"Ye mustn't! Ye mustn't, Pappy Lon! I love him so! And he's so good! And +poor little Flukey is so sick, though he's gettin' better, and if I'm +happy, then he'll get well! Don't ye love us one little bit, Pappy Lon?" +She loosened her hold upon the table and neared the squatter. + +Cronk brushed his face awkwardly. The presence of his Midge filled the +scow-room, and his dead baby, wee and well beloved, goaded him to +complete his vengeance. For a few seconds he breathed hard, with +difficulty choking down sobs that shook his whole body. In a haze, the +ghost-woman wavered toward him through the long, bitter years he had +lived without her. She thrust herself between him and Fledra. The image +that his heated brain had drawn up held out a tiny spirit babe, and so +real was the apparition that he put out a trembling hand. For a moment +he groped blindly for something tangible in the nothingness before him. +Then, with a groan, he let his arm fall nerveless to his side. The +vision disappeared, and Lem's presence and even Fledra's faded; for Lon +again felt the agonizing cracking of his bones under the prison +strait-jacket, and could hear himself shrieking. + +He started up and wiped drops of water from his face. He glared at +Fledra, his decision remaining steadfast within him. Only exquisite +torture for Vandecar's flesh and blood would appease the wrath of Midge +and the pale-faced child. + +"I love ye well enough to want ye to do my will," he brought out +huskily, "and when Flukey gits well he'll come with me, too." + +Fledra braced herself for the ordeal. Lon had promised her in his +letter that sacrificing herself would mean safety for Floyd and her +lover. She would not allow him to break that promise, however much he +demanded of her. + +Cronk spoke again: + +"Ye'd better take off yer things and set down, Flea 'cause ye ain't +goin' back." + +She made no move to obey him. + +"Yes, I'm goin' back to Flukey," she said, "even if you make me come +here again. I haven't left any letter for him. But I'll come back to the +scow, and go with you and Lem, if you let Fluke stay with Mr. +Shellington. If you take him, you don't get me." + +"How ye goin' to help yerself?" Lon questioned, with a belittling sneer. + +"When I get hold of ye," put in Lem, "ye'll want to stay." + +The squatter again motioned the scowman to silence. A fear, almost a +respect, for this girl, with her solemn gray eyes and unbending manner, +dressed like the people he hated, took root within him. + +Fledra's next address to Lon ignored Lem's growling threat. + +"I didn't come to fight with you, Pappy Lon. But you've got to let me go +back and write a letter. I won't tell anybody that I'm goin' from home. +Mr. Shellington's going to New York tomorrow, to stay four or five days. +That'll give me a chance to get away, and I'll come to you again +tomorrow night. But I'll go with you only when you say that Fluke can +stay where he is. Do you hear, Pappy Lon?" + +Her face expressed such commanding hauteur, she looked so like Floyd +Vandecar when she threw up her head defiantly, that Cronk's big chest +heaved with satisfaction. To take his grudge out upon her would be +enough. He would cause her to suffer even more than had Midge. He waited +for a few moments, with his eyes fastened upon her face, before he +spoke. He remembered that she had never told him a lie nor broken a +promise. + +"Ye swear that, if I let ye go now, ye'll come back tomorry night?" + +"Yes, I swear it, if you'll swear that you'll let Fluke alone, and that +you won't ever hurt Mr. Shellington. Do you swear it?" Her voice was +toned with a desperate passion, and she bent toward the squatter in +command. + +"I swear it," muttered Lon. + +"And can I bring Snatchet with me? I want him because he's Flukey's, and +because he'll love me. Can I, Pappy Lon?" + +"Yep, damn it! ye can. Bring all the dogs in Tarrytown; but be back +tomorry night." + +"I'll come, all right; but I'm goin' now." + +As the girl turned to go, Lem lumbered to his feet. + +"I've got somethin' to say about this!" he stuttered. + +"Sit down, Lem!" commanded Lon. + +Crabbe stood still. + +"That gal don't go back tonight! She's mine! Ye gived her to me, and I +want her now." + +Lem wriggled his body between Fledra and the stairs; but the girl thrust +herself upon him with an angry snarl. + +"Don't touch me with your dirty hands!" she gasped. + +Lem caught his breath. + +"Ye've let that rich pup of a Shellington kiss ye--ye don't move from +here!" + +Fledra crushed back against the cabin wall and eluded his searching +fingers. + +"I was goin' to marry Mr. Shellington; but I ain't now. I'm going back +to him for tonight, and tomorrow, and I'm goin' to let him kiss me, and +I'm goin' to kiss him." + +She put forward her face until her breath swept Lem's skin. + +"I'm goin' to kiss him as much--as much as he'll let me. And I'm goin' +to write Fluke; and, if ye touches me afore I does all that--I'll kill +ye!" + +Lena drew back from her vehemence, leaving the way of the staircase +clear, and in another instant Fledra was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE + + +The following day Shellington left for New York, immediately after +breakfast. + +Fledra made no attempt to write her farewells until in the evening after +she had looked her last upon Floyd, and Ann had seen her to bed. An hour +passed before she got up softly and turned on the light. She fumbled +warily about her table for writing materials, and after she had found +them her tense face was bent long over the letters. When she had +finished, she stole along the hall to Horace's study, and left there the +tear-stained envelops for him and her brother. + +Once back in her room, she donned her street-clothes rapidly, and, after +taking a silent farewell of the surroundings she loved, climbed through +the window and dropped to the ground. She crept stealthily to the back +of the house and approached the dog-kennels. Through the dim light she +could see the scrawny greyhounds pulling at their leashes as she fumbled +at the wire-mesh door. Whines from several of the dogs made Fledra step +inside, whence she glanced out misgivingly to see if she had been +observed. + +"Snatchet!" she whispered. + +From a distant corner she heard the rattle of a chain. + +"Snatchet!" she called again. + +This time she spoke more loudly and advanced a step. + +"Where are ye?" + +A familiar whine gave her Snatchet's whereabouts. She felt her way +along the right wall, and as she passed each animal she spoke tenderly +to it. Upon reaching the little mongrel, Fledra placed her face down +close to him. The glitter of his shining eyes, the warm contact of his +wet tongue, brought tears from her. She told him gently that they were +going away together, going back to the country where many of the evil +persons of the world congregated. The girl took the collar from the +dog's neck and, picking him up quickly, retraced her steps. + +"We're going back to the hut, Snatchet," she told him again, "and +Fledra's going to take you because Floyd won't care when he's got Sister +Ann--and Brother Horace." At the mention of the man's name, the squatter +girl bent her head over the yellow dog and sobbed. + +Then she ran until she was far from the house; but her steps lagged more +and more as she neared the river. Long before she reached it she stopped +and sat down. How intensely she wished that her sacrifice was to wander +alone with Snatchet the rest of her days! Anything would have been +preferable to Lem and his scow. But the bargain with her enemies had +been the surrendering of herself to the canalman, and shortly she rose +and proceeded on her way to the barge. Before entering it, she raised +her eyes to the sky. Everything was at peace with the Infinite, save her +own little tortured soul. She dashed aside her tears and ascended the +gangplank, halting at the top a moment to answer Middy Burnes' familiar +call to her. She saw that Middy had his little tug under steam and was +ready to tow the scow away. Shuddering, Fledra went down the stairs into +the living-room, where Lem and Lon awaited her. + +Neither man spoke when she put Snatchet down on the floor and threw back +the lovely cloak she had received from Ann at Christmas. Lem's eyes +glittered as he looked at it. Before Fledra entered, the scowman had +been industriously tacking a sole on a big leather boot, held tightly +between his knees. Now he ceased working; the rusty hook loosened its +hold upon the heel of the boot, and the hammer was poised lightly in his +left hand. From his mouth protruded the sparkling points of some steel +tacks. + +Lon was first to break the strained silence. + +"We been waitin' a long time fer ye, Flea. Ye've kept the tug a steamin' +fer two hours." + +"I couldn't come before," replied the girl. "I had to wait till Fluke +and Sister Ann went to bed." + +Lon sneered as he repeated: + +"Sister Ann!" + +"She's the lady you saw when you were there, Pappy Lon. And she's the +best woman in all the world!" + +The squatter smiled darkly. + +"Ye'd best put Snatchet in the back room, and then come here again and +set down, Flea, 'cause it'll take a long time to get to Ithaca, and +ye'll be tired a standin'." + +His sarcasm caused no change to cross the girl's face; but Lem grinned +broadly. He took the tacks from between his teeth and made as if to +speak. After a few vain stutters, however, he replaced the tacks and +hammered away at the old boot. Now and then the goiter moved up and +down, each movement indicating the passage of a thought through his +sluggish brain. + +Fledra removed Snatchet and returned to the living-cabin, as Lon had +suggested. + +"I want to talk to you before I sit down," she said in a low tone. "What +are you going to do with me?" + +Just then the scow lurched, and the whistle of the tug ahead screamed a +farewell to Tarrytown. Fledra heard the grinding of the boat against the +landing as it was pulled slowly away, and she sprang to the window. She +took one last glimpse of the promised land, one lingering look at the +twinkling lights, which shone like glow-worms and seemed to signal +sympathy to the terrified girl. Finally she turned a tearless face to +Lon. + +"I want to know what you're going to do with me when we get to Ithaca. +Can I stay awhile with Granny Cronk?" + +She glanced fearfully from Lon to the scowman, whose lips were now free +of the nails. His wide smile disclosed his darkened teeth as he +stammered: + +"Yer Granny Cronk's been chucked into a six-foot hole in the ground, and +ye won't see her no more." + +Staring at the speaker, Fledra fell back against the wall. + +"Granny Cronk ain't dead! She ain't! You're lying, Lem Crabbe!" + +"Ask yer daddy, if ye don't believe me," grunted Lem. + +Fledra cast imploring eyes to Lon. + +"Yer granny went dead a long time ago," verified the squatter. + +"Then I can stay with you, Pappy Lon, just for a little time. Oh, Pappy +Lon," tears rose slowly, and sobs caught her throat as she advanced +toward him, "I'll cook for you, and I'll work days and nights, if I can +live with you!" She was so near him that she allowed a trembling hand to +fall upon his arm. But he spurned it, shaking it off as he growled: + +"Don't tech me! Set down and shut up!" + +She passed over the repulse and sobbed on: + +"But, Pappy Lon, I'd rather die, I'd rather throw myself in the water, +than stay with Lem in this boat! I want to tell you how I've +prayed--Sister Ann taught me to. I always asked that Flukey might stay +in Tarrytown, and that nothing would ever hurt Mr. Shellington. I never +dared pray for myself, because--because God had enough to do to help all +the other ones, and because I never asked anything for myself till you +found me. I want to stay right in the shanty with you, Pappy Lon. I +hate Lem--oh, how I hate him!" + +Lem coughed and wheezed. + +"I guess we'd better shet her claptrap once and fer all," he said. "Lon, +ye leave me to settle with Flea--I know how." + +The squatter silenced Lem with a look and rose lumberingly. As he struck +a match and made toward the steps, Fledra followed close after him. + +"Pappy Lon, if you'll stay with me here on the boat till we get to +Ithaca, then I'll do what you say when we get there. You sha'n't go and +leave me now with Lem, you sha'n't, you sha'n't!" Her voice rose to a +shriek, and her small body trembled like a leaf in a wind. So loud were +her cries, and so fiercely did she clutch at Lon's coat, that he turned +savagely upon her. + +"I'll do what I please. Shet up, or Middy'll hear ye. Git yer hands off +en me!" + +"Pappy Lon, if you leave me with Lem, then I'll jump in the river!" + +She bit her lips to stifle the sobs; but still clung beseechingly to his +coat. + +Lon stepped backward from the chair, and whirled about so quickly that +his coat was jerked from Fledra's grasp. + +"Then I'll take Fluke, and what I won't do to him ain't worth speakin' +'bout." He glanced at her face and stopped. Never had he seen such an +expression. Her bleeding lips and flaring eyes sent him a step from her. + +"If you leave me with Lem," she hissed her repetition, "then I'll jump +in the river!" Seeing that he hesitated, she went on, "You stay right +in here with Lem and me, Pappy Lon, and when we get to the hut I'll do +what you tell me." + +Fledra heard Lem drop the old boot he had been mending and advance +toward her. She turned upon him, and the scowman halted. + +"I said as how I'd settle with ye, Flea," he said, "and now I'm goin' +to." + +But Lon glared so fiercely that Crabbe closed his mouth and retreated. + +"It ain't time fer ye to settle yet, Lem, I'm a thinkin'," said Lon. "Ye +keep shet up, or I'll settle with ye afore ye has a chance to fix Flea." +Turning to the girl, he questioned her. "Did ye tell anyone ye was goin' +with me?" Fledra nodded her head. "Did ye tell Flukey?" + +"Yes, and Mr. Shellington. But I told them both that I came of my own +free will. But you know I came because I wanted Mr. Shellington to live +and Flukey to stay where he is. But I ain't going to be alone in this +room with Lem tonight--I tell you that!" + +Lon sat down and smoked moodily on his pipe. After a few minutes' +thought he said: + +"Ye can sleep in that back room where ye put the dorg, Flea, and if +there's a key in the lock ye can turn it. You come up to the deck with +me, Lem." + +With a dark scowl, the scowman followed the squatter upstairs. He had +reckoned that the hour to take Flea was near; but Lon's heavy hand held +him back. When they were standing side by side in the darkness of the +barge-deck, Cronk spoke. + +"Lem," he said, "I told ye before that Flea ain't like Flukey. She'd +just as soon throw herself into that water as she'd look at ye. She +ain't afraid of nothin' but you, and ye've got to keep yer hands offen +her till I git her foul, do ye hear?" + +"Ye ain't keepin' me away just fer the sake of that high-toned +Brimbecomb pup, be ye, Lon?" + +"Nope. I'd rather you'd have her, Lem, 'cause ye'll beat her and make +her wish a hundred times a day that she'd drowned herself. I say, if ye +let me fix this thing, ye'll come out on the top of the heap. If ye +don't, she'll raise a fuss, and, if that damned governor gets wind of +it, he might catch on that the kid be his. He'd run us both down afore +ye could say jackrabbit. Ye let Flea alone till I say ye can have her." + +"If yer dealin' fair--" + +The squatter interrupted his companion with an angry growl. + +"Have I ever cheated ye out of any money?" + +"Nope," answered Lem. + +"Then I won't cheat ye out of no girl; fer I love a five-cent piece +better'n Flea any time. Now, shet up, and we'll go down to sleep!" + + * * * * * + +Fledra fled into the back room, and, closing the door quickly, slipped +the bolt. She glanced about the cabin, which through the candlelight +looked dirty and miserably mean. But it was a haven of escape from Lem, +and she welcomed it. A large can of tobacco was on a wooden box. Fledra +knew this belonged to the canalman and that he would come after it. She +picked it up, and, opening the door, shoved it far into the other room. +She could bear Lon's muttering voice on the deck above, and the swish of +the water as the tug pulled the scow along. Once more she carefully +locked the cabin door, and then, with a sob, dropped to her knees, +burying her face in the coarse blanket that covered the bunk. Long and +wildly she wept, her sobs frequently stopping the utterance of an +attempted prayer. Finally her exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into +a troubled sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY + + +When Fledra opened her eyes the next morning she could not at first +realize where she was. When she did she rose from the bed fully dressed; +for she had taken off none of her clothing the night before. She drew a +long breath as she realized that she would not be pestered by Lem during +the trip to Ithaca. Peering through the small cabin window, she could +see that they were slowly passing the farms on the banks of the river as +the barge was towed slowly through the water. The peace of spring +overspread each field, covering the land as far as the girl could see. +Herds of cattle grazed calmly on the hills, and she could hear the faint +tinkling of their bells above the chug-chug of Middy's small steamer +ahead. At intervals fleets of barges, pulled along by struggling little +tugboats, passed between her and the bank. These would see +Tarrytown--the promised land of Screech Owl's prophecy, the paradise she +had been forced to leave! The light of self-sacrifice shone in her +uplifted eyes, and many times her sight was blurred by tears; but no +thought of escape from Lem and Lon came to her mind. To reenter her +promised land would place her beloved ones in jeopardy. + +Her reverie left her at a call from Lon, and she unfastened the +cabin-door. + +"Come out and get the breakfast fer us, Kid," ordered the squatter. + +Fledra left the little room and mechanically prepared the coarse food. +When it was ready, she took her seat opposite Cronk, and Lem dragged a +chair to the table by the aid of the hook on his arm. + +"Ye're feelin' more pert this mornin', Flea," said Lon, after drinking a +cup of black coffee. + +"Yes," replied Flea faintly. + +"And are ye goin' to mind yer pappy now?" pursued Lon. + +"Yes, after we get to Ithaca," murmured Fledra. + +"Tell me what ye said to Flukey in yer note." + +"I told him he could stay with Brother Horace; but that I'd go with you, +and--" + +Her slow precise speech made a decided impression upon Lem; for he +ceased eating and stared at her open-mouthed. But Cronk brought his fist +down on the table with a thump that rattled the tin dishes. + +"Don't be puttin' on no guff with me, brat!" he shouted. "Ye talk as I +teeched ye to, and not as them other folks do." + +Fledra fell into a resentful silence. + +After a few seconds, Cronk said: + +"Now, go on, Kid, and tell me what ye told him." + +"If you won't let me speak as I like, Pappy Lon, then I'll keep still." + +The girl faced him with brave unconcern, with such reckless defiance +that Lon drew down his already darkened brow. + +"Yer gettin' sassy!" Lem grunted, with his mouth full of food. + +Cronk held his peace. He peered at her covertly, as if he would discover +what had so changed her since the night before. Her dignity, the haughty +poise of her head as she looked straight at him, filled him with +something like dismay. Would Lem be able to subdue her with brute force? +The scowman also observed her stealthily, compared her to Scraggy, and +wondered. They both waited for Fledra to continue; but during the rest +of the meal she did not speak again. + + * * * * * + +Miss Shellington was deeply surprised when the deputy met her with an +open letter in his hand, and said: + +"The court has called me away, Ma'm. I guess your troubles are all +over." + +For a moment Ann did not comprehend the meaning of his words. Then she +laid a trembling hand on his arm and faltered: + +"Possibly they'll send someone else; but I'd much rather you'd stay. We +are--we are used to you." + +"Thanks, Ma'm; but no one else won't come--the case has been called +off." + +Increasing excitement reddened Miss Shellington's cheeks. + +"Oh, do you think they are going to leave them here with us?" + +The deputy buttoned his coat and put on his hat. + +"I'm sure I don't know; but I'd almost think so, or I wouldn't have got +this order." He tapped his breast-pocket and made as if to go; but he +faced the other once more instead, with slightly rising color. "You +still have your doctor's orders, Miss, that nobody can take the boy away +for sometime; so don't worry. And, Ma'm," the red in his face deepened, +"you ain't prayed all these weeks for nothing. I ain't much on praying +myself; but I've got a lot of faith in a pretty, good young lady when +she does it. Goodby, Ma'm." + +As Ann bade the officer farewell, the relief from haunting fears and +racking possibilities almost overcame her. She went back to Floyd, +resolutely holding up under the strain. She told him that the stranger +had gone; but that, as she had received no communication, she did not +know the next steps that would be taken. + +It was nearly nine o'clock when Ann tapped softly upon Fledra's door. +There had been no sign of life from the blue room that morning; for Miss +Shellington had given orders that Fledra be allowed to sleep if she so +wished. Now, however, she wanted the girl to come to the dining-room to +welcome Flukey to his first meal at the table and to learn that the +deputy had been withdrawn. When no voice answered her knock, Ann turned +the handle of the door and peeped in. Fledra's bed was open, and looked +as if its occupant had just got up. Miss Shellington passed through to +the bathroom, and called. She ran back hastily to the bed and put her +hand upon it. The sheets were cold, while the pillow showed only a faint +impression where Fledra's dark head had rested. Miss Shellington paused +and glanced about, fright taking the place of expectancy on her face. +She hurried to the open window and looked out. Then she rushed to the +kitchen and questioned the servants. None of them had seen Fledra, all +were earnestly certain that the girl had not been about the house during +the morning. Ann thought of Floyd, and for the nonce her fears were +forced aside. In spite of her anxiety, she had a smile on her lips as +she entered the breakfast-room and took her seat opposite the boy. + +"We'll have to eat without Sister this morning," she said gently to the +convalescent. "She's a tired little girl." + +"She'd be glad to see me here," said Floyd wistfully. "Sister Ann, +what's the matter with Fledra?" + +Miss Shellington would have given much to have been able to answer this +question. Finally her alarm became so strong that she left her breakfast +unfinished, and, unknown to Floyd, instituted a systematic search for +the girl. Many were the excuses she made to the waiting young brother as +the day lengthened hour by hour. Again and again he demanded that +Fledra be brought to him. At length the parrying of his questions by +Miss Shellington aroused his suspicions, so that he grew nervous and +fretful. Five o'clock came, and yet no tidings of the girl. Ann's +anxiety had now become distraction; for her brother's absence threw upon +her shoulders the responsibility of the girl's disappearance, and the +care of Floyd should he suffer a relapse. Her perturbation became so +unbearable that she put her pride from her, and sought the aid of +Everett Brimbecomb. + +She called him on the telephone, and, when his voice answered her +clearly over the wire, she felt again all her old desire to be with him; +her agitation and uncertainty increased her longing. + +"Everett, I'm in dreadful trouble. Can't you come over a moment?" + +"Of course, dear girl. I'll come right away." + +Not many minutes later Ann herself ushered Everett into the +drawing-room, where she had spent such happy hours with him. But, when +they were alone, her distrust of him once more took possession of her, +and she looked sharply at him as she asked: + +"Everett, do you know where Fledra has gone?" + +"Who? Fledra Vandecar?" His taunt was untimely, and his daring smile +changed her distrust to repulsion. + +"No; you know whom I mean--Fledra Cronk. She's, not here. Horace has +gone away for a few days, and I'm wild with anxiety. Will you help me +find her, Everett? She must be here with us until it is decided which +way the matter will go." + +They had been standing apart; but the girl's words drew him closer, and +he took her hand in his. He had truly missed her, and was glad to be in +her confidence once more. + +"Ann, you've never been frank with me in this matter; but I'm going to +return good for evil. I really don't know where the girl is; still, +anything I can do I will. But I do know that her father has seen her; +for he told me about it. It was--" + +Ann cut him off with a sharp cry: + +"But he's seen her only the once, Everett--only that one afternoon when +he first came." + +This time Everett answered with heart-rending deliberateness: + +"You're mistaken, Ann. Your paragon got out of the window when you were +all asleep," Ann's sudden pallor disturbed the lawyer only an instant, +and, not heeding her clutch on his arm or a pained ejaculation from her, +he proceeded, "and went to her father. He told me this. Ann, don't be +stupid. Don't totter that way. Sit down, here, child. No, don't push me +away.... Well, as you please!" + +"Oh, you seem so heartless about it," gasped Ann, "when you know how +Horace loves her!" + +Miss Shellington did not notice the smile that crossed his lips as he +looked down at her, or the triumph in his eyes when he said: + +"But, Ann, I've told you only what you've asked of me. I think you're +rather unkind, Dear." + +"I don't intend to be," she moaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. +"Oh! she was with us so long! What shall I say to Horace?" + +"Didn't you say he was out of town?" + +"Yes, for four or five days," Ann put the wrong meaning to Everett's +deep sigh, and she finished; "but I'm going to send for him." + +"And, pray, what can he do? The girl is gone, and that ends it." + +"But Horace might ascertain if she had been forced to go." + +Brimbecomb laughed low. + +"No one could force her to jump from the window of her bedroom." + +"Everett, Fledra has always said that she hated her father, and that she +never wanted to go back to him, because he abused both her and her +brother." + +"Yes, so you told me before, and I think I remember telling you that you +were making a mistake in trusting in her truthfulness. It seems her +brother told her that he did not wish to return with the squatter; so +she left him here with you. For my part," Everett pressed closer to her, +"I'm glad that she is gone. The coming of those children completely +changed both you and Horace. You'll get used to ingratitude before +you've done much charity work." + +Ann's intuition increased her disbelief in the man opposite her. + +"Everett, will you swear to me that you had nothing to do with her +going?" + +Brimbecomb swore glibly enough, and supplemented his oath with: + +"I've always felt, though, that you should not have them here; and I +can't say that I shouldn't have taken them away, if I could, Ann. Don't +you think we could overlook past unpleasantness, and let our +arrangements go on as we intended they should?" + +Ann rose hastily to her feet. She was sorely tempted to fall into his +arms. How handsome he looked, how strongly his eyes pleaded with her! +But her vague fears and distrust held her back. She sank again to the +chair. + +"No, no--not just yet, Everett," she said. "I've loved you dearly; but I +can't understand Fledra's disappearance. Oh, I--I don't know how to +meet Horace! He loved and trusted her so!" Again she looked at him with +indecision. "Come back to me, Dear," she whispered, "when it is all +over. I'm so unhappy today!" + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE + + +Floyd raised his head when Ann bent over him. Agitation and sorrow had +so altered her that the change brought him to a half-sitting position. + +"Flea's sick, I bet!" he burst out, without waiting to be addressed. +"Don't try to fool me, Sister Ann." + +As his suspicion grew within him, his eyes traveled over her face again +and again; then he put his feet on the floor and stood up. + +"Ye didn't tell me the truth this morning, did ye?" + +Miss Shellington forced him gently back on the divan, and sat down +beside him. + +"I'd hoped, Floyd, dear," she said tremblingly, "that we were all going +to be happy. You must be brave and help me, won't you? If you should +become ill again, I think I should die." + +"Then, tell me about Flea. Has Pappy Lon--" + +"Fledra went back to him last night of her own free will." + +With eyes growing wide from fear, Floyd stared at her. + +"I don't know what you mean! Did she tell ye she was a goin'?" + +"No, Dear. This morning Fledra was not in her bedroom, and for awhile I +thought she had not heeded our cautions, but had gone out for a walk. +But Mr. Brimbecomb has just told me that Fledra went back with your +father, and that, she had not been forced to go." + +"I don't believe it!" The boy's voice was sharp with agony. "Pappy Lon +made her go--ye can bet on that, Sister Ann! Flea wouldn't go back +there without a reason. I bet that big duffer of yours had a finger in +the pie." + +Ann flushed painfully. + +"Floyd, dear, don't, I beg of you!" + +"I'm sorry I said that, Sister Ann. But Flea didn't go for nothin'. +Sister Ann, will you and Brother Horace find out why she went? I have to +go, too, if Flea's in the hut. Pappy Lon and Lem'll kill her!" + +He attempted to rise; but Ann's restraining hand held him back. + +"Floyd, Floyd, dear, we don't know where she's gone; but my brother will +come soon, and he'll find her. He won't let Fledra be kept from us, if +she wants to come back." + +The boy's rigid body did not relax at her assurance, nor did her +argument lessen his determination. + +"But what about Lem? You don't know Lem, Sister Ann. He's the worst man +I ever see. I've got to go and get my sister!" + +"Floyd, you'd die if you should try to go out now. Why, Dear, you can +scarcely stand. Now, listen! I'll send a telegram to my brother, and +he'll be right back. Then, if you are determined to go, and can, he'll +take you. Why, child, you haven't been out in weeks!" + + * * * * * + +Three days crawled slowly along, and yet Horace made no response to the +many frantic telegrams that Ann had sent. Never had the hours seemed so +leaden-winged as those passed waiting for him to come. Ann had received +one note from him, and three letters for Fledra lay unopened in the +girl's room. His note to Ann was from Boston, and she immediately sent a +despatch to him there. + +On the fourth day after Fledra's disappearance, when Ann met her +brother, one glance told her that he was unaware of their trouble. + +"Oh, Horace, I thought you'd never get here! Didn't you receive any of +my telegrams?" + +"No! What's the matter? Has something happened to Floyd? Where's +Fledra?" + +"Gone!" gasped Ann. + +"Gone! Gone where?" + +His voice was filled with imperious questioning, and Ann stifled her +sobs. + +"I know only what Everett has told me. When we got up the morning after +you left, she was gone. I called Everett over, and he told me she went +with her father of her own free will. The squatter told him so." + +"He's a liar! And if he's inveigled that girl--" + +Ann's loyalty to Everett forced her to say: + +"Hush, Horace! You've no right to say anything against him until you are +sure." + +Shellington took several rapid strides around the room. + +"If I'd only known it before!" + +"I've tried to reach you," Ann broke in; "but my messages could not have +been delivered." + +"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Ann," he said in a lower tone. "But those men +in some way have forced her to go. I'm sure of it! Fledra would never +have gone with them willingly. Did she leave no message, no word? Have +you searched my room? Have you looked every where?" + +"No, I didn't look in your room--it didn't enter my mind. Why didn't I +think of that before? Come, we'll look now." + +Under the large blotter on his desk Horace found the two tear-stained +letters Fledra had left. With a groan the frantic lover tore open the +one directed to him and read it. + +"She's gone with them!" he said slowly in a hollow voice, and sank into +a chair. + +Miss Shellington took the note from his outstretched hand, and read: + + "_Mr. Shellington_.-- + + "I'm going away because I don't like your house any more. Let Floyd + stay and let your sister take care of him like when I was here. + Give him this letter and tell him I'll love him every day. I took + Snatchet because I thought I'd be lonely. Goodby." + +The last words were almost illegible. With twitching face, Ann handed +the letter back to Horace. + +In the man before her she almost failed to recognize her brother, so +great was the change that had come over him. She threw her arms tenderly +about him, and for many minutes neither spoke. At length, with a start, +Horace loosened his sister's arms and stood up. + +"Give Floyd his note--and leave me alone for a while, Dear." + +His tone served to hasten Ann's ready obedience. She took the note for +Floyd and went out. + +Four times Horace read and reread his letter. He was tortured with a +thousand fears. Where had she gone, and with whom? And why should she +have left him, when she had so constantly and sincerely evinced her love +for him? She could not have gone back to the squatters; for her hatred +of them had been intense. He remembered what she had told him of Lem +Crabbe--and sprang to his feet with an oath. Hot blood rushed to his +fingertips, and left them dripping with perspiration. He fought with a +desire to kill someone; but banished the thought that Fledra had not +held faith with him. He called to mind her affection and passionate +devotion, and knew that to doubt her would be unjust. But, if to leave +him had made her unhappy, why had she gone? He thought of Floyd's +letter, and a sudden wish to read it seized him. + +When he entered the boy's room Floyd was lying flat on his back, staring +fixedly at Miss Shellington, who was deciphering the letter for him. She +ceased reading when her brother appeared. + +"Horace," she said, rising, "Floyd says he doesn't believe that Fledra +went of her own free will. He thinks she was forced in some way." + +Horace stooped and looked into the boy's white face, at the same time +taking Fledra's letter from Ann. + +"Flea can't make me think, Brother Horace," said Flukey, "that she went +'cause she wanted to. Pappy Lon made her go, I bet! There's something we +don't know. I want you to take me up there to Ithaca, and when I get +there I can find her. Prayin' won't keep her from Lem. We've got to do +something." + +Horace shot a glance of inquiry at his sister. + +"We prayed every morning, Dear," she said simply, "that our little girl +might be protected from harm." + +"She shall be protected, and I will protect her! Where's the deputy?" + +"They called him away the morning Fledra left." + +"May I read your letter, Floyd?" + +"Sure!" replied the boy wearily. + +Shellington's eyes sought the paper in his hand: + + "_Floyd love_.-- + + "I'm going away, but I will love you every day I live. Floyd, could + you ask Sister Ann to pray for everyone--me, too? Forgive me for + taking Snatchet--I wanted him awfully. You be good to Sister Ann + and always love Brother Horace and mind every word he says. I'm + going away because I want to. Remember that, Floyd dear, goodby. + + "FLEDRA." + +After finishing the letter, Horace said to Ann, "I must see Brimbecomb +at once." And he turned abruptly and went out. Ann followed him +hurriedly. + +"Horace, dear, you won't quarrel with him, for my sake." + +"Not unless he had a hand in taking her away. God! I'm so troubled I +can't think." + +Ann watched him go to the telephone; then, with a premonition of even +greater coming evil, she crept back to Floyd. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO + + +When Horace ushered Brimbecomb into his home, so firm was his belief +that the young lawyer had been instrumental in removing Fledra that he +restrained himself with difficulty from wringing a confession from the +man by violence. For many moments he could not bring himself to broach +the subject of which his mind was so full. Everett, however, soon led to +the disappearance of the girl. + +"I'm glad you telephoned me so soon after your arrival," said +Brimbecomb. "I was just starting for the station. If you hadn't, I +shouldn't have seen you. I had something to say to you." + +"And I have something to say to you," said Horace, his eyes steadily +leveled at the man before him. "Where is Fledra Cronk?" + +Everett's confidence gave him a power that was not to be daunted by this +direct question. + +"My dear fellow," he replied calmly, "I don't exactly know where she is; +but I can say that I've had a note from her father, telling me that she +was with him in New York, and safe. I suppose it won't be necessary to +tell you that she was not compelled to go?" + +Horace whitened with suppressed rage. He was now convinced that the +suavity of his colleague concealed a craftiness he had never suspected, +and he felt sure that Everett had taken advantage of his absence to +strike an underhanded blow. Banishing a desire to fell the other to the +floor and then choke the secret from him, he decided to ply all the +craft of his profession, and draw the knowledge from Brimbecomb by a +series of pertinent queries. + +"May I see the communication you have received from Cronk?" + +Everett seemed to have expected the question; for he made a brave +pretense of looking through his wallet for the fictitious letter. He +took up the space of several minutes, arranging and rearranging the +documents. Then, as he looked at Horace, a paper fluttered to the floor, +unobserved by him. + +"On second thought," said he, "I think it wouldn't be quite right to +show you a private letter from one of my clients. I have told you enough +already. I'm sorry, but it's impossible for me to let you see it." + +Everett mentally congratulated himself upon his diplomacy, while Horace +bit his lip until it was ridged white. In his disappointment he cast +down his eyes, and then it was that his attention was called to the +paper Brimbecomb had dropped on the floor. He changed his position, and +when he came to a standstill his foot was planted squarely on the paper. +For a moment Horace was under the impression that Everett had seen him +cover the letter; but the unruffled egotism on the face of the other +betrayed no suspicion. + +"Who ordered the withdrawal of the deputy?" Horace demanded. + +Everett knew that the lies he told would have to be consistent; so he +repeated what he had said to Ann. + +"I don't know," Everett said. "I didn't." + +Horace gazed at his companion for several seconds. + +"Something tells me that you're lying," he said finally. + +An evil change of expression was the only external sign of Brimbecomb's +longing to throttle Horace. + +"A compliment, I must say, my dear Shellington," he said; "and the only +reason I have for not punching you is--Ann." + +The other's eyes narrowed ominously. + +"Ann is the one who is keeping me from thumping you, Brimbecomb. If you +know anything of Fledra Cronk, I want you to tell me." + +"I've told you all I know," Everett answered. + +"For Ann's sake, I hope you've told me the truth; but, if you haven't, +and have done anything to my little girl, then God protect you!" + +The last words were uttered with such emotional decision that Everett's +first real fear rose within him. With difficulty he held back a torrent +of words by which he might exonerate himself. Instead, he said: + +"Some day, Shellington, you'll apologize to me for your implied +accusation. You have taken--" + +"Pardon me," Horace interrupted, "but I must ask you to leave. I'm going +to Governor Vandecar." + +No sooner had his visitor closed the door than Horace stooped and picked +up the paper from under his foot. Going to the window, he opened the +sheet, smoothed it out, and read: + + "_Mr. Brimbecomb_.-- + + "I told you I got the letter you wrote me, and you know I can't + ever love you. I hate your kisses--they made me lie to Sister Ann, + and I couldn't tell Brother Horace how it happened. I am going back + to Lem and Pappy Lon to Ithaca because you and Pappy Lon said as + how I must or they would kill Brother Horace. But I hate you, I + hate you--and I will always hate you. + + FLEDRA CRONK." + +Like a brand of fire, every word seared the reader's brain. As his hand +crushed the letter, Horace's head dropped down on his arm, and deep sobs +shook him. The girl had gone for his sake, and was now braving +unspeakable dangers to save him from an evil trumped up by his enemies. +Tense-muscled, he sprang to his feet and rushed into the hall. + +"My God! What a fool I've been! Ann, Ann! Here, read this!" His words, +pronounced in a voice unlike his own, were almost incoherent. He threw +the paper at the trembling girl, as he continued, "Brimbecomb dropped it +on the floor. Now I think Governor Vandecar will help me! I'm going to +Ithaca!" + +With the letter held tightly in her hands, the woman read over twice the +pitiful denunciation; then, tearless and strong, she went to her +brother. + +"What--what are you going to do for her first, Dear?" + +"I must go to Albany and see the governor." + + * * * * * + +In the flurry of the departure little more was said, and before an hour +had passed Horace Shellington had taken the train for Albany. He had +instructed Ann to tell Floyd what had induced Fledra to leave them, and +Ann lost no time in communicating the contents of the little +tear-stained letter written to Everett. + +Later in the day Ann received a telegram from her brother in which she +learned that he had missed the governor, who was on his way to +Tarrytown. Horace said, also, that he himself was starting for Ithaca by +way of Auburn. Ann sat down beside Floyd and read the message to him. + +"Did he say," asked the boy, "that the governor was comin' here to +Tarrytown?" + +"Yes." + +For many moments Floyd lay deep in thought. + +"I'm goin' to Governor Vandecar's myself. If he's the big man ye say he +is, then he can help us. Get me my clothes, Sister Ann." + +"It won't do any good, Floyd," argued Ann. "Governor Vandecar has always +thought that your father ought to have his children. He doesn't realize +how you've suffered through him." + +"I'm goin', anyway," insisted Floyd doggedly. "Get my clothes, Sister +Ann. I can walk." + +"No, you mustn't walk, Deary, you can't; we'll drive. But I wish you +wouldn't go out at all, Floyd. Do listen to me!" + +"But I must go. Please, get my clothes." + +After brief, but vain, arguing, Ann yielded to Floyd's entreaties. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE + + +The governor, meditating in his library, was disturbed by a ring at the +front door. The servant opened it, and he heard Miss Shellington's voice +without. + +In a moment Ann entered, white and flurried. + +"I want you to pardon me, Floyd," she begged, "but that boy of ours +insisted upon coming to see you. He would have come alone, had I refused +to accompany him. Will you be kind to him for my sake? He is so +miserable over his sister!" + +Vandecar clasped her extended hands and smiled upon her. + +"I'll be kind to him for his own sake, little friend. Mrs. Vandecar told +me of her talk with Horace over the telephone, and I was awfully sorry +to have missed him. But the little boy, where is he?" + +Miss Shellington threw open the door, and Vandecar's gaze fell upon a +tall boy, straight and slim, who pierced him with eyes that startled him +into a vague apprehension. He did not utter a word--he seemed to be +choked as effectually as if strong fingers were sunk into his throat. + +Floyd loosened his hands from Ann's and stepped forward. + +"I'm Flukey Cronk, Sir," he broke forth, "and Pappy Lon Cronk stole my +sister Flea, and he's goin' to give her to Lem Crabbe to be his woman, +and Lem won't marry her, either. Will ye help me to get her back? +Brother Horace said as how ye could. Pappy Lon's a thief, too, and so is +Lem. If ye'd see Lem Crabbe, ye'd help my sister." + +Ann saw two pairs of mottled brown eyes staring at each other, and, as +she listened to Floyd's petition, the likeness of the boy to the man +struck her forcibly. The expression that swept over Governor Vandecar's +face frightened her, and she held her breath. But quicker than hers had +been the thoughts of the man. He staggered at the name of "Lon Cronk," +and his mind coursed back to a heart-rending scene, to hear again the +deep voice of a big-shouldered thief pleading for a sick woman. Again he +saw the huge form of the squatter loom up before him, and heard once +more the frantic prayer for a week's freedom. He had not taken his eyes +from the boy's, and a weakening of his knees compelled him to grip the +back of the chair for support. With a voice thickened to huskiness, he +stammered: + +"What--what did you say your father's name was, boy?" + +"Lon Cronk, Sir--and he's the worst man ye ever see. I bet he's the +worst man in the state--only Lem Crabbe! He beat my sister, and were +makin' me a thief." + +Governor Vandecar dropped into his desk-chair. For a space of time his +face was concealed from Ann and Floyd by his quivering hand. When he +looked up, the joy in his eyes formed a strange contrast to Ann's +tearful face. Floyd, thinking the change in the governor boded well for +Fledra, advanced a step. + +"Sit down, boy," said the governor in a voice that was still hoarse. +"Now, then, answer me a few questions. Did your father ever live in +Syracuse?" + +"Yep, me and Flea were born there." + +"How old are you?" + +"Comin' sixteen." + +"And your sister? Tell me about her. Is she--how old is she?" + +"We be twins," replied Floyd steadily. + +The girl, watching the unfolding of a life's tragedy, was silent even to +hushing her breathing. The truth was slowly dawning upon her. How well +she knew the story of the kidnapped children! How often had her own +heart bled for the tender mother, spending endless days in vain +mourning! She saw Governor Vandecar stand, saw him sway a little, and +then turn toward the door. + +"Governor, Governor!" she called tremulously, "I feel as if I were going +to faint. Oh, can't you see it all? Where is Mrs. Vandecar?" + +"Stay, Ann, stay! Wait! Boy, have you ever had any reason to believe +that you were not the son of Lon Cronk?" Through fear of making a +mistake, he had asked this question. He knew that, should he plant false +hope in the timid mother he had shielded for years, she would be unable +to bear it. + +"Nope," replied Floyd wonderingly; "only that he hated me and Flea. He +were awful to us sometimes." + +"There can be no mistake," Ann thrust in. "He looks too much like you, +and the girl is exactly like him.... Oh, Floyd!" + +Vandecar extended his arms, and, with a sob that shook his soul, drew +his boy to him. + +"You're not Cronk's son," he said; "you're mine!... God! Ann, you'll +never know just how I feel toward you and Horace. You've made me your +life debtor; but, of course--of course, I didn't know, did I?" Then, +startled by a new thought, he realized Floyd. "But my girl!" + +"Horace has gone for her," Ann cried. + +"And I will follow him," groaned Vandecar. "Horace--and he could not +interest me in my own babies! If I'd helped him, my little girl wouldn't +have been taken away!" + +In the man's breakdown, Ann's calm disappeared. Unable to restrain her +tears, she fluttered about, first to Floyd, then to his father, kissing +the boy again and again, assuring and reassuring the governor. + +"Just remember," she whispered, bending over the sobbing man, "Horace +loves her better than anything in the world. Listen, Floyd! He's going +to marry her. Don't you think he'll do everything in his power to save +her?... Don't--don't sob that way!" + +Of a sudden Vandecar leaped to his feet. Brushing a lock of white hair +from his damp brow, he turned to Floyd. + +"Before I do anything else, I must take you to your mother." + +"But ain't ye goin' for Flea?" demanded Floyd. + +"Of course, I am going for my girl," cried Vandecar, "as fast as a train +can take me!" He turned suddenly and placed his firm hands on the boy's +shoulders. "Before I take you upstairs, boy, listen to me! You've a +little mother, a sick little mother who has mourned you and your sister +for years. I'm going to leave her with you while I'm gone for your +sister. Your mother is ill, and--and needs you!" + +Still more interested in his absent sister than in his newly found +parent, Floyd put in: + +"I'll do anything ye say, if ye'll go for Flea." + +Ann touched the father's arm gently. + +"Come upstairs now." + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Vandecar was alone when her husband entered. She was sitting near +the window, her eyes pensive and sad. The governor advanced a step, +thrusting back the desire to blurt out the truth. The woman glanced into +his eyes, and the change there brought her to her feet. Her face paled, +and she put out her slender, trembling hands. + +"There's something the matter, Floyd.... What's--what's happened?... I +heard the bell ring." + +In an instant he crushed her to him, and in an agitated voice whispered +gently: + +"Darling, can you stand very good news--very, very good news, indeed?... +No, no; if you tremble like that, I sha'n't tell you. It's only when you +promise me--" + +"I promise, I promise, Floyd! Is it anything about our--our children?" + +"Yes--I have found them!" + +How many times for lesser things had she fainted! How many hours had she +lain too weak to speak! He expected her now to evince her frail spirit. +He felt her shiver, felt her muscles tighten, until she seemed to grow +taller as he held her. Then she drooped a little, as if afraid. Dazedly +she brushed back her tumbled hair, her eyes flashing past him in the +direction of the door. + +"Bring--bring them--to--me!" she breathed. + +Just how to explain her daughter's danger pressed heavily upon him. He +dared not picture Lon Cronk or the man Floyd had described. To gain a +moment, he said: + +"I will, Dear; but only one of them is here. The other one--" + +"Which one is here?" + +"The boy, Sweetheart, our own Floyd." + +Although she was shaking like a leaf, Vandecar saw that she was not +fainting, and when she struggled to be free he released her. She +staggered a little, and said helplessly: + +"Then, why--why don't you bring--him to me?" + +"I will, if you'll sit down and let me tell you something." He knelt +beside her and spoke tenderly: + +"Sweetheart, our children have been near us for months. They came to Ann +and Horace--" + +Fledra Vandecar gave a glad little cry. + +"It was he, then, the pretty boy that prayed! Oh, Floyd, something told +me! But you said he was here alone. Where is my girl?" + +"That's what I want to tell you, Fledra. Look at me, dear heart." + +The eyes, wandering first from his face, then to the door, fell upon +him. They seemed to demand the truth, and he dared not utter a lie to +her. + +"By some crooked work, which Everett and the squatter--" + +His words brought back Horace's story. A strange horror paled her cheeks +and widened her eyes. + +"That man, the one who called himself her father, took her back to +Ithaca. Is that what you wanted to tell me?" + +As she attempted to rise, Vandecar pushed her gently back into the chair +and said: + +"I'm going for her, Beloved, and Horace has already gone--Wait--wait!" + +Vandecar was at the door in an instant, and when he opened it Ann +appeared, leading Floyd by the hand. Mrs. Vandecar's eyes fastened +themselves upon the boy, and, when Ann pushed him toward her, she rose +and held out her arms. + +Floyd was taller than she, and he stood considering her calmly, almost +critically. He had been told by Miss Shellington that he would see his +mother, and as he looked a hundred things tore through his mind in a +single instant. This little woman, with fluttering white hands extended +toward him, was his--his very own! He felt suddenly uplifted with a +masculine desire to protect her. She looked so tiny, so frail! He was +filled with strength and power, and so glad was his heart that it sang +loudly and thumped until he heard a buzzing behind his ears. Suddenly he +blurted out: + +"I'd a known ye were mine if I'd a met ye any place!" + +Governor Vandecar hurriedly left them and telephoned for a special train +to take him to Ithaca. He entered his library and summoned Katherine. He +talked long to her in low tones, and when he had finished he put his arm +about the weeping girl and said softly: + +"And you'll come with us, Katherine, dear, and help me bring back my +girl? I shall ask Ann to go with us." + +"Oh, uncle, dear, you know I will go! And, oh, how glad I am that you've +found them!" + +"Thank you, child. Now, if you'll run away and make the necessary +preparations, we'll start immediately." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR + + +During the days of the passage through the Erie Canal, Fledra had +remained on the deck of the scow when it was light. The spring days were +beautiful, too beautiful to be in accord with her sadness. Yet only when +they entered into Cayuga Lake did acute apprehension rise within her. +They were now in familiar waters, and she knew the end would soon come. +At every thought of Lem, Fledra shuddered; for never did his eyes rest +upon her, nor did he approach her, but that she felt the terror of his +presence--the sight of him sent a wave of horror through her. Much as +she dreaded the wrath of Cronk, much more did she fear Crabbe's eyes, +when, half-covered with squinting lids, they pierced her like gimlets. +Snatchet was her only comfort, and she lavished infinite affection upon +him. Night crowded the day from over Cayuga, and still Fledra and +Snatchet remained in the corner, near the top of the stairs. The girl +watched pensively the lights upon the hills lose their steadiness, as +the scow drew farther away from them, until with a final twinkle they +disappeared into the darkness behind. The churning of the tug's +propeller dinned continually in Flea's ears; but was not loud enough to +make inaudible the sound of a footstep. Lon came to the top of the +stairs; but did not speak. He shuffled to the boat's bow, and with a +mighty voice bawled to Burnes: + +"Slack up a little, Middy! I want to come aboard the tug." + +The words floated back to Fledra, and she half-rose, but again sank to +the deck. Lon was leaving her alone with Lem! The tug stopped, and the +momentum of the barge sent it close to the little steamer. When the gap +between the boats was not too wide, Lon sprang to the stern of the tug, +and again Middy's small craft pulsated with life, and again the rope +stretched taut between the two vessels. + +As the gloom of the night deepened, Fledra could no more discern the +outline of the steamer ahead, only its stern light disclosing its +position. For some moments she scarcely dared breathe. Suddenly a light +burst over the crest of the hills opposite, and the edge of the moon's +disk rose higher and higher, until the glowing ball threw its soft, pale +light over Cayuga and the surrounding country. Once more the tug took +form, and the deck of the scow was revealed to the girl in all its +murkiness. Shaking with anxiety, she allowed her eyes to rove about +until they riveted themselves upon two glittering spots peering at her +over the top step from the shadow of the stairway. A low growl from +Snatchet did not disturb the fascination the evil eyes held for her. It +seemed as if goblin hands reached out to touch her; as if supernatural +objects and evil human things menaced her from all sides. The crouching +figure of the scowman became more distinct as he sneaked over the top +step and edged toward her. A sudden morbid desire came over the girl to +throw herself into the water. She rose unsteadily to her feet, with +Snatchet still clutched in her arms. She threw one appealing glance at +the tug--then, before she could cry out or move, Lem was at her side. + +"Don't ye so much as open yer gab," he muttered, "or I'll hit ye with +this!" + +The steel hook was held up dangerously near her face, and the threat of +it rendered her dumb. + +"Yer pappy be a playin' me dirt, and I won't let him. Ye're goin' to be +my woman, if I has to kill ye! See?" + +No sign of help came to the girl from the tug, nor dared she force a cry +from her lips. + +"Yer pappy says as how I can't marry ye," went on Lem, in the same +whisper, "and I don't give a damn about that--- only, ye don't leave +this scow to go to no hut! Ye stay here with me!" + +Fledra had wedged herself more tightly into the corner, hugging the +snarling Snatchet closer. As she backed, the scowman came nearer, his +hot breath flooding her face. + +"Put down that there dorg!" he hissed. Snatchet did not cease growling, +and the baring of his teeth sent Lem back a step or two. "If he bites +me, Flea, I'll knock his brains clean plumb out of him!" + +With this threat, the scowman came to her again, stretching out his left +hand to touch her. Snatchet sent out a bark that was half-yelp and +half-growl, and before the man could withdraw his fingers the dog had +buried his teeth deep in them. With a wrathful cry, the scowman jumped +back, then lunged forward, wrenched the dog from Fledra's arms, and +pitched him over the edge of the barge into the lake. The girl heard the +dog give a frightened howl, and saw the splash of water in the moonlight +as he fell. + +He was all she had--a yellow bit she had taken with her from the +promised land, a morsel of the life that both she and Floyd loved. With +a shove that sent Lem backward, she freed herself and peered over the +side. Snatchet had come to the surface, and in his vain effort to reach +the scow his small paws were making large watery rings, which contorted +the reflection of the moon strangely. He seemed so little, so powerless +in the vast expanse, that Fledra, forgetful of her skirts and the +handicap they would put upon her, leaped from the scow. Lem saw the +water close over her head, and for many seconds only little bubbles and +ripples disturbed that part of the lake where her body had sunk. An +instant he stood hesitant, then he rushed to the bow. + +"Lon, Lon!" he roared. "Flea's jumped overboard!" + +The churning of the tug suddenly stopped, and the canalman saw Lon's big +body pass through the moonlight into the water. + +The scow was soon close to the tug, and together Lem and Middy Burnes +examined the lake's surface for a sight of the man and the girl. Many +minutes passed. Then a shout from the rear sent Lem running to the stern +of the scow which was now at a standstill. He looked down, and on Lon's +arm he saw Fledra, pressing Snatchet against her breast. With his other +hand the squatter was clinging to the rudder. + +"Here she is!" Cronk called. "Grab her up, Lem!" + +The scowman relieved Lon of his burden and carried the half-drowned girl +below, whither the squatter, dripping with water, quickly followed. +Snatchet was directly in his path, and he kicked the dog under the +table. At the yelp, Fledra lifted her head, and Lon bent over her. + +"What'd ye jump in the lake for, Flea?" he asked. + +Still somewhat dazed, Fledra failed to answer. + +"Were ye meanin' to drown yer self?" + +The girl shook her head, and glanced fearfully at Lem. "Were ye a +worryin' her, Lem Crabbe?" demanded the squatter hoarsely. + +"I were a tryin' to kiss her," growled Lem. "A man can kiss his own +woman, can't he? And that dog bit me. Look at them fingers!" Through the +dim candlelight Lem's sullenness answered the dark look that Lon threw +on him. + +"I don't give a damn for yer fingers," Lon snarled, "and she ain't yer +woman yet, and she wouldn't be nuther, if ye weren't the cussedest man +livin'. Now listen while I tell ye this: If ye don't let that gal be, +ye'll never get her, and I'll smack yer head off ye, if I has to say +that again! Do ye want me to say that ye can't never have her?" + +"Nope," cowered Lem. + +"Then mind yer own business and get out of this here cabin! I'll see to +Flea." + +Fledra had faith that Lon Cronk would do as he promised. How often had +there come to her mind the times when she was but a little girl the +squatter had said when he would whip her, and she had waited in +shivering terror through the long day until the big thief returned +home--he never forgot his anger of the morning. Fledra winced as her +imagination brought back the deliberate blows that had fallen upon her +bare skin, and tears rushed to her lids at the memory of Floyd's cries, +when he, too, had suffered under the strength of the powerful squatter. +She was glad she could now at least rest free from Lem until the hut was +reached, and then, if only something should happen to soften Cronk's +heart, how hard she would work for him! + + * * * * * + +The next morning the barge approached the squatter settlement, and +Fledra was once more on deck. She wondered what Floyd had said when he +received her letter, and if he believed that she had gone of her own +free will. What had Ann said--and Horace? The thought of her lover +caused bitter tears to rain between her fingers. But she stifled her +sobs, and a tiny, happy flutter brightened her heart when she thought of +how she had saved them all. Below she heard a conversation between Lem +and Lon, and listened. + +She first heard the voice of the squatter: "It's almost over, Lem, and +then we'll go back to stealin' when ye get Flea. She can be a lot of use +to us." + +"But what ye goin' to say to that feller if he comes up tomorry?" + +"He can go to hell!" growled Cronk. + +"And ye won't give the gal to him?" + +"Nope." + +In her fancy Fledra could see Lon draw the pipe from his lips to mutter +the words to Lem. + +"If ye take his money, Lon," gurgled Lem, "ye might have to fight with +him if he don't get Flea." + +The listening girl crept to the staircase and strained her ears. + +"I kin fight," replied Lon laconically. + +When, next day, the tug came to a standstill in front of the rocks near +the squatter's hut, Fledra went forward and touched Lon's arm. Her eyes +rested a moment upon him, before she could gather voice to say: + +"Will you let me stay with you, Pappy Lon, for a few days?" + +"I'll let ye stay till I tell ye to go," growled Lon, "and I don't want +no sniveling, nuther." + +"When are you going to tell me to go?" + +"When I like. Middy's gittin' the skiff ready to take ye out. Scoot +there, and light a fire in the hut! Here be the key to the padlock." + +Fledra's heart rose a little with hope. He had not said that she had to +go with Lem that day. After she had been rowed to the shore, she went +slowly to the shanty, with a prayer upon her lips. She had no thought +that Horace would try to save her, or that he would be able to keep her +from Lem and Lon. She prepared the breakfasts for Cronk and Crabbe and +for Middy with his two helpers. During the meal four pairs of eyes +looked at the slim, lithe form as it darted to and fro, doing the many +tasks in the littered hut. Lon Cronk was the only one not to lift his +head as she passed and repassed. He sat and thought moodily by the +fire. At last he did lift his head, and Fledra's solemn gray eyes, fixed +gravely upon him, made the squatter ill at ease. + +"What ye lookin' at?" he growled. "Keep your eyes to hum, and quit a +staring at me!" Fledra shrank back. "And I hate ye in them glad rags!" +Lon thundered out. "Jerk 'em off, and put on some of them togs of Granny +Cronk's! Yer a squatter, and ye'd better dress and talk like one! Do ye +hear?" + +"Yes, Pappy Lon," murmured Fledra, dropping her eyes. + +"I ain't said yet when ye was to go to Lem's hut; but, when I do, don't +ye kick up no row, and ye'd best do as Lem tells ye, or he'll take the +sass out of yer hide!" + +"I wish I could stay with you," ventured Fledra sorrowfully; but to this +Lon did not reply. After breakfast she was left alone in the hut, and +she could hear the loud talking of the tugmen and see Lem working on the +scow. + +Soon Middy Burnes' tug steamed away toward Ithaca, and Fledra knew that +she was alone with no creature between her and Lem but Lon Cronk. + +When Lon and Lem returned, the hut was tidy. Fledra had hoped that if +she made it so Lon might want her to stay. She could be of much use +about the shanty. Neither of the men spoke for awhile, and Fledra held +her peace, as she sat by the low hut-window and gazed thoughtfully out +upon the lake. In the distance she could see the east shore but dimly. +Several fishing boats ran up the lake toward town. A flock of spring +birds swept breezily over the water and sought the shade of the forest. +Suddenly Lem rose up, stretched his legs, yawned, and said: + +"I'm goin' out, Lon, and I'll be back in a little while. Ye'd best be a +thinkin' of what I said," he cautioned, "and keep yer eyes skinned for +travelers." + +"All right. Don't be gone long, Lem," responded Lon. Fledra was not too +abstracted to notice the uneasy tone in the squatter's voice. + +"Nope; I'm only goin' up the hill." + +Lem had decided to reconnoiter for Scraggy. He was filled with a fear +that she might be dead; for he had left her in the hut unconscious. He +climbed the hill, and, rounding her shanty, drew nearer, and peeped into +the window. A piece of bread lying on the table, and a few embers +burning on the grate bolstered up his hope that he had not committed +murder. He drew a sigh of relief. + + * * * * * + +Presently, after the departure of Lem, Lon stirred his feet, dragged +himself up in the chair, and turned upon the girl. Her heart beat wildly +with hope. If he would allow her to stay in the hut with him, she would +ask nothing better. His consent would come as a direct answer to prayer. +How hard she would work if Floyd and Horace were safe! Cronk coughed +behind his hand. + +"Flea, turn yer head 'bout here; I want to talk to ye," he said. + +The girl got up and came to his side. She was a pathetic little figure, +drooping in great fear, and hoping against hope that he would spare her. +She had dressed as he had ordered, and at her feet dragged a worn skirt +of Granny Cronk's. With trembling fingers she hitched the calico blouse +up about her shoulders. + +"Flea," said Lon again, "ye came home when I said ye was to, and ye +promised that ye'd do what I said, didn't ye?" + +"Yes." + +"And ye remember well that I promised ye to Lem afore ye went away. I +still be goin' to keep that promise to Lem." + +The bright blood that had swept her face paced back, leaving her ashen +pale. She did not speak, but swayed a little, and supported herself on +the top of his chair. Feeling her nearness, he shifted back, and the +small hand fell limply. + +"Before ye go to Lem," pursued Lon, "I want to tell ye somethin'." Still +Fledra did not speak. "Ye know that it'll save Flukey, if ye mind me, +and that it don't make no difference if ye don't like Lem." + +"Wouldn't it have made any difference if my mother hadn't loved you, +Pappy Lon?" + +The question shot out in appeal, and Lon's swarthy face shadowed darkly. + +"I never loved yer mother," he drawled, sucking hard upon his pipe. + +"Then you loved another woman," went on Flea bitterly, "because I heard +you tell Lem about her. Would you have liked a man to give her to--Lem?" + +As quick as lightning in the smoke came the ghost-gray phantom, +approaching from a dark corner of the shanty. Lon's eyes were strained +hard, and Fledra saw them widen and follow something in the air. She +drew back afraid. The man was staring wildly, and only he knew why he +groaned, as the wraith in the pipe-smoke broke around him and drifted +away. Fledra brought him back by repeating: + +"Would ye have liked to have had Lem take her, Pappy Lon?" + +"I'd a killed him," muttered Lon, as if to himself. "But ye, Flea," here +he rose and brought down his fist with a bang, "ye go where I send ye! +The woman's dead. If she wasn't, ye wouldn't have to go to Lem." + +To soften him, Fledra knelt down at his feet. + +"Pappy Lon," she pleaded, "you haven't got her, anyhow, and you haven't +got anybody but me. If you let me stay--" + +How he hated her! How he would have liked to bruise the sweet, upturned +face, marking the white cheeks with the impressions of his fists! But he +dared not. She would run away again--and to Lem he had given the +opportunity to drag her to fathomless depths. + +Fledra misread his thoughts, and said quickly: + +"I wouldn't care if you beat me every day, Pappy Lon--only let me stay. +I'll work for my board. And won't you tell me about the other woman--I +don't mean my mother." + +Then a diabolical thought flashed into the man's mind. He, too, could +make her suffer, even before she went to Lem. A smile twisted his lips, +and he said slowly: + +"Yer mother ain't dead, Flea." + +"Not dead!" + +"Nope, she ain't dead." + +"Then where is she?" + +"None of yer business!" + +Fledra clenched her hands and paled in terror. A mother somewhere living +in the world, a woman who, if she knew, would not let her be sacrificed, +who would save her from Lem, and from her father, too! + +"Lon, Lon!" she cried, springing forward in desperation. "Do you know +where she is? I want to know, too." + +He flung her away, a grunt of satisfaction coming from his throat. + +"And I ain't yer daddy, nuther." + +"Then you're not Flukey's father, either?" she whispered. + +"Nope; yer pappy and mammy both be livin' and waitin' fer ye. They've +been lookin' fer ye fer years--and yet they'll never git ye. Do ye +hear, Flea? I hate 'em both so that I could kill ye--I could tear yer +throat open with these!" The squatter put his strong, crooked fingers in +the girl's face. + +A sudden resolution pumped the blood to the girl's cheeks. + +"I'm not going to stay here!" was all she said. + +Lon lifted his fist and stood up. + +"Where ye goin'?" + +"Back to Tarrytown." + +She was standing close to him, her blazing eyes daring him to strike +her. + +"What about Flukey?" + +"You couldn't have him, either, if--if he isn't yours." + +Lon walked to the door and opened it. + +"Scoot if ye want to--I don't care. But ye'll remember that I'll kill +that sick kid, Fluke, and Lem'll put an end to the Tarrytown duffer what +loves ye. I hate him, too!" + +Fledra dropped to the floor as if he had struck her. + +For some moments her senses were gone, and she opened her eyes only when +Lon, vaguely alarmed, threw water in her face. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE + + +Cronk entered the scow sullenly and sat down. Lem was sitting at the +table, bending over a tin basin in which he was washing his bitten +fingers. The steel hook and its leather strappings lay on the table. + +"I telled Flea," said the squatter after a silence. + +"Did ye tell her she was comin' to my boat tonight?" asked Lem eagerly. + +"Nope; but I telled her that she weren't my gal." + +"Ye cussed fool!" cried Crabbe, jumping to his feet. "Ye won't keep her +now, I bet that!" + +Cronk smiled covertly. + +"Aw, don't ye believe it! She be as safe stuck in that hut as if I'd +nailed her leg to the floor. Ye don't know Flea, ye don't, Lem. She +didn't come back with us 'cause she were my brat, but 'cause we was +goin' to kill Flukey and Shellington. God! how she w'iggled when I +opened the door and telled her to scoot back to Tarrytown if she wanted +to! But I didn't forgit to tell her what we'd do to them two others down +there, if she'd go. She floundered down and up like a live sucker in a +hot skillet. What a plagued fool she is!" + +Lon sat back in his chair and laughed loudly. + +"Ye'll play with her till ye make her desprite," snarled Lem, "and when +she be gone ye can holler the lungs out of ye, and she won't come back. +If ye'd left her to me, I'd a drubbed her till she wouldn't think of +Tarrytown. I says as how she comes to this scow tonight. Ye can't dicker +with me like ye can with that kid, Lon!" + +Cronk narrowed his eyelids to slits and contemplated the scowman. + +"I want to have a little fun with her afore ye git her," he said. "I +love to see her damn face go white and red, and her teeth shut tight +like a rat-trap. She won't do none of them things when you git done with +her, Lem." + +Crabbe rubbed the length of his short arm with a coarse towel. + +"Yep, I can make her forgit that she's got blood what'll come in her +face," chuckled he. "'Tain't no fun ownin' women, if ye can't make 'em +holler once in awhile. But ye didn't say as how she were a comin' here +tonight." + +"Nope, not tonight," answered Lon; "'cause when I showed her that it +didn't make no difference 'bout her stayin' whether she were mine or +not, she just tumbled down like a hit ox. My! but it were a fine sight!" + +Lem lifted the steel hook in deep reflection and caught the clasps +together. + +"I'm a wonderin', Lon," he said presently, "if I'm to ever git her." + +"Yep, tomorry," assured Lon. + +"Honest Injun?" demanded Lem. + +"Honest Injun," replied Lon. "If ye takes her tonight, she'll only cut +up like the devil. That's the worst of them damn women, they be too +techy when they come of stock like her." + +"I like 'em when they're techy--it ain't so easy to make 'em do what a +man wants 'em to as 'tis t'other kind--say like Scraggy. I love a gal +what'll spit in yer face. God! what a lickin' Flea'll git, if she tries +any of them fine notions of her'n on me! For every kiss Shellington +gived her, I'll draw blood outen her hide!" Lem paused in his work, and +then added in a stammering undertone, "But I love the huzzy!" + +The other bent far forward to catch the scowman's words, delighting in +the mental picture of Fledra's lithe body writhing under the lash. The +proud spirit of the girl would break under the physical pain! + + * * * * * + +Fledra was still lying on the bed when Lon returned to the hut. + +"Git up and git supper!" Cronk growled in her ear. + +Mechanically she rose, sliced a few cold potatoes into the skillet, and +arranged the table for one person. + +"Put down two plates!" roared the squatter. + +"I can't eat, Lon," Flea said in a whisper. + +He noticed that she had dropped the paternal prefix. + +"Put down another plate, I say!" he shouted. "Ye be goin' to Lem's +tomorry, and ye'll go tonight if ye put on any airs with me! See?" + +Fledra placed a plate for herself, and sat down opposite Lon. Choking, +she crushed the food into her mouth and swallowed it with effort. For +even one night's respite she would suffer anything! + + * * * * * + +After the dishes were cleared away Fledra knelt by the open window, and +peered out upon the water. She turned tear-dimmed eyes toward the +college hill, and allowed her mind to travel slowly over the road she +and Floyd had taken in September. Rapidly her thoughts came to the +Shellington home, and she imagined she saw her brother and Horace +listening to Ann as she read under the light of the red chandelier. How +happy they all looked, how peaceful they were--and by her gift! She +breathed a sigh as the shadows crept long over the darkening lake. + +She glanced at the clock, and counted from its dial the hours until +morning. She wished that the sun would never rise; that some unexpected +thing would snatch her from the hut before the night-shades disappeared +into the dawn. Cronk moved, and the girl turned with a startled face. +How timid she had grown of late! She remembered distinctly that at one +time she had loved the chirp of the cricket, the mournful croak of the +marsh frogs; but tonight they maddened her, filled her with an ominous +fear such as she had never before felt. When Lon saved her from +drowning, and had scathed Lem for his actions, she had hoped--oh, how +she had hoped!--that he would let her fill Granny Cronk's place. She +glanced at the squatter again. + +Lon was staring out upon the lake with eyes somber and restless, eyes +darkening under thoughts that threshed through his brains like a +whirlwind. He was face to face with a long-looked-for revenge. Through +the pain of Flea he could still see that wraith woman who had haunted +him all the past-shadowed years. He believed with all his soul that then +Midge would sink into his arms, silent in her spirit of thankfulness, +and would always stay with him until he, too, should be called to join +her; for Lon had never once doubted that in some future time he would be +with his woman. If anyone had asked him during the absence of Flea and +Flukey which one of them he would rather have had back in the hut, he +would undoubtedly have chosen the girl; for well he knew that she was +capable of suffering more than a boy. Still, he moved uneasily when he +thought of the soft bed and the kindly hands that were ministering to +the son of his enemy. + +Suddenly the squatter dragged his pipe from his lips and said: + +"Look about here, Flea!" + +The girl turned her head. + +"What, Pappy Lon?" she questioned. + +"Keep yer mouth shet!" commanded Lon. "I'll do the talkin' fer this +shanty." + +Then, seeing her cowering spirit racked by fear, he grinned broadly. +Fledra sank back. + +"I've always said as how I were a goin' to make money out of ye, and +I've found a chance where, if Lem ain't a fool, he'll jine in, too. Will +I tell ye?" Lon's question brought the dark head closer to him. "Ye +needn't speak if ye don't want to," sneered he; "but I'll tell ye jest +the same! Do ye know who's goin' to own ye afore long?" Fledra's +widening eyes questioned him, while her lips trembled. "I can see that +ye wants to find out. Does ye know a young fellow by the name of +Brimbecomb?" Observing that she did not make an effort to speak, Lon +proceeded with a perceptible drawl. "Well, if the cat's got yer tongue, +I'll wag mine a bit in yer stead. Brimbecomb's offered to buy ye, and, +if Lem says that it'll be all right, then I says yep, too." + +Fledra found her voice uttering unintelligible words. She was slowly +advancing on her knees toward the squatter, her face working into +strong, mature lines. + +"Jest keep back there," ordered Lon, "and don't put on no guff with me! +Ye can do as ye please 'bout goin' away. I won't put out my hand to keep +ye; only, remember, if ye go, what comes to the folks in Tarrytown! Now, +then, did ye hear what I said about Brimbecomb?" Fledra nodded, her +eyelids quivering under his stare. "Yer pretty enough to take the fancy +of any man, Flea, and ye've took two, and it's up to 'em both to fight +over ye. The man what pays most gits ye, that's all." + +The girl lifted one hand dazedly. + +"I'd rather go with Lem," she muttered brokenly. + +"It don't make no matter to me what you'd ruther have. Ye go where yer +sent, and that's all." + +Only Fledra's sobs broke the silence of the next five minutes. She dared +not ask Lon Cronk any questions. + +Presently, without warning, the man turned upon her. + +"He's a comin' here tonight, mebbe." + +"Ye mean--oh, Pappy Lon! Let me go to Lem! I'll go, and I won't say no +word!... I'll go now!" She rose, her knees trembling. + +"Sit down!" Lon commanded. + +Used to obeying even his look, Fledra dropped back to the floor. + +"It ain't given to ye to go to Lem jest 'cause ye want to," he said. "As +I says, that young feller is comin' here tonight to talk with me and +Lem. I already told him, that he could take ye; but Lem hain't yet give +his word." + +Fledra glanced out of the window at the scow. Lem was there, arranging +the boat for her reception in his crude, homely way. She was sure the +scowman would not give her up. The thought brought Ann more vividly into +her mind. If Everett came for her, and Lem held to his desire, Miss +Shellington's happiness would be assured. The handsome young lawyer +would return to Tarrytown, back to the woman who loved him. + +Fledra rose with determination in her face. Suddenly Lem had loomed +before her as a friend. She moved uneasily about the shanty, Lon making +no move to stay her. For awhile she worked aimlessly, with furtive +glances at Cronk. + +"Set down, Flea," ordered Lon presently. "Ye give me the twitches. If ye +can't set still, crawl to bed till," he glanced her over, as she paused +to catch his words,--"till one of yer young men'll come to git ye." + +It was the chance Fledra had been longing for. She backed from him +through the opening of Granny Cronk's room and closed the door. For one +minute she stood panting. Then she walked to the window, threw back the +small sash, and slipped through. Once in the open air, she shot toward +the scow, and in another moment had scurried up the gangplank and into +the living-room. + +When he saw her, Lem's lips fell away from his pipe, and he rose slowly +and awkwardly; but no shade of surrender softened the hard lines +settled about the mouth of the panting girl. + +"Lem," she gasped, "has Pappy Lon said anything to ye about Mr. +Brimbecomb?" + +"Yep." + +"Are ye goin' to let me go with him?" + +"Nope." + +"Will ye swear, Lem, that when he comes to the hut ye'll say that he +can't have me?" + +Lem's jaw dropped, and he uttered a throat sound, guttural and rough. + +"Do ye mean, Flea, that ye'd rather come to the scow than go with the +young, good-lookin' cuss?" + +"Yes, that's what I mean; and Pappy Lon says he's comin'." + +Lem made a spring toward her. + +"Don't touch me now!" she cried, shuddering. "Don't--yet! I'm comin' +back by and by." + +Before he could place his hands upon her, Fledra had gone down the +plank. From the small boat-window Lem could discern the little figure +flitting among the hut bushes; in another moment she had crawled through +the open window into Lon's hut. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX + + +When Everett arrived in Ithaca he made arrangements with the conductor +of the local train running to Geneva to have it slow down at Sherwoods +Lane. + +A sudden jerk of the engine as it halted at the path that led to Lon's +hut brought Brimbecomb to his feet, and he hurried from the car with +muttered thanks and a substantial consideration to the conductor. While +the train rumbled away in the distance, he stood in the shadow of a +large pine tree by the track and looked about to get his bearings. +Suddenly he heard not far from him the faint, weird cry of an owl. +Instantly he was on the alert; for there was something familiar in the +melancholy sound. It took him back to a night in Tarrytown, when he had +cast a woman into the cemetery, and he remembered that she had said she +lived in Ithaca. Superstition sent him deeper into the shadow for a +moment; but he recovered himself and, shaking his shoulders, went his +way toward the lake with a muttered oath. + +So dense was the woodland bordering the path, and so dark was the shadow +of the bushes in the twilight, that he had almost to feel his way down +the dark lane. He had not proceeded more than fifty yards when he saw a +light gleaming through the underbrush from the opposite side of the +gulch that ran parallel with the narrow road. He came to a path that +branched in the direction of the light, and picked his way along it. +Soon he crossed a primitive bridge and, climbing a little incline, +paused before a dilapidated shanty. He knocked peremptorily on the door; +but only a droning voice humming a monotonous tune made answer. Again +he knocked, this time harder. The singing ceased, and after a shuffling +of feet the door opened. + +Standing before him, her hair bedraggled as it had been the first time +he saw her, was the woman who had claimed to be his mother, the woman he +had thrown into Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Brimbecomb, in his astonishment, +almost fell back into the gulch. But he quickly gathered his scattered +wits and, forcing a face of effrontery, doffed his hat. + +"Can you tell me," his agitation did not allow him to speak +calmly,--"can you tell me, please, where Lon Cronk lives?" + +Although his question was low and broken, Scraggy caught each word. + +"Down to the edge of the lake, Mister," she replied. "It's a goin' to be +a dark night to be out in, ain't it?" + +In his relief, Brimbecomb drew a long breath. She had not recognized +him! The dim light of the candle showed him that the same dazed +expression still remained in her faded eyes. The smirk on her face, the +crouch of her emaciated figure, about which the rags swirled in the +wind, the dismal hut, and the loneliness of her surroundings, made such +a picture of woe that Everett shuddered and hastened to get the +information, that he might hurry away from the awful place. + +"Is there a scow down there that belongs to--" + +"That there scow belongs to Lem Crabbe," broke in Scraggy. "Yep, it +comed in this mornin'. Lem be a good man, a fine man, the bestest man ye +ever see." + +Brimbecomb took some money from his pocket and, placing it in her +fingers, hurried away. + + * * * * * + +Fledra heard Everett when he came to Lon's shanty door and knocked. She +heard the squatter call him by name. She knew now that the only hope +for Ann's love for Brimbecomb was that Lem would keep his word and +insist upon Lon's holding faith with him. + +Cronk ordered her roughly to come to him. When she appeared, the two men +looked at her keenly. As she evinced no surprise at his presence, the +lawyer knew that she had been told of his coming. He made an attempt to +take her hand; but, as once before, Fledra flung her arms behind her. + +"I 'low as she don't like ye, young feller," said Lon, with a laugh. + +"Does it matter to you, Cronk?" retorted Brimbecomb. + +"Not a damned bit!" + +"Then go and make your arrangements with your one-armed friend and leave +your daughter here with me." + +"Ye be in too big a hurry, my fine buck! Lem ain't as willin' as I be; +but I'll jest go down to the scow and speak with him." + +"I want to go with you, Pappy Lon," cried Fledra. + +"Ye stay right here, gal," commanded Cronk. Full in her face he slammed +the door and left her alone with Brimbecomb. + +Everett stood looking at her for fully a minute, and as steadily she +eyed him back. + +"I have come for you," he said quietly. "I could not leave you with +these persons." + +Fledra curled her lip scornfully. + +"I lived with them a long time before I saw any of you folks," she said +bitterly. + +The girl did not reason now. She knew that she must send him back, that +this was her only way to repay the woman who had saved her brother. So +she went up to Brimbecomb appealingly, her eager eyes gleaming into +his. + +"I want you to go back to Tarrytown," she said, "and go to +Shellingtons', and see Sister Ann. She's dying to have you back. And you +belong to her, because you promised her, and she promised you. Will you +go back?" + +"When I wish to, I will; but not yet," muttered Everett. He had been +taken aback at her words, and at that moment could think of no way to +compromise with her. She was so near that he threw out his hands and +caught her. Forcibly he drew her face close to his, his lips whitening +under the spell of her nearness. + +"Never, never will I let you go away from me again!" he was saying +passionately, when Cronk opened the door and stepped in. + +The squatter gave no evidence that he had seen Everett's action. He left +the door open, through which the breeze flung the dust and the dead +leaves. + +"Lem'll see ye in the scow," he said. "I ain't got nothin' to say 'bout +this--only as how Flea goes to one or the other of ye." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN + + +Not more than half an hour after Everett had reached Sherwoods Lane, +Governor Vandecar's train came to a halt at the same place, and the +party, consisting of the governor, Ann Shellington, and Katherine +Vandecar, made ready to step out into the night. + +"Please draw up to the switch," the governor instructed the conductor, +"and I'll hail you as soon as we return. Keep an ear out for my call." + +"Yes, Sir," replied the conductor; "but you'd better take this +lantern--it's sure dark down by that lake, Sir. And you can signal me +with the light." + +Ann and Katherine clasped hands, and, aided by the light which Vandecar +held high, slowly followed him. So stern did the tall man seem in the +deep gloom that neither girl spoke to him as they stumbled down the +hill. They halted with thumping hearts in sight of the dark lake. All +three noticed a small light twinkling through the Cronk window, and, +without knocking, Governor Vandecar flung wide the door of Lon's hut and +stepped in. + +The squatter sat on the floor, whittling a stick; Fledra crouched by the +window. As the door opened, she raised her eyes wonderingly; but when +she saw a tall stranger she dropped them again--someone had lost his way +and needed Pappy Lon. Cronk looked up and, recognizing Vandecar, +suddenly slid like a serpent around the hut wall until he was in +touching distance of the girl. + +"Ye'd better not come any closer, Mister," he said darkly. "I has this, +ye see--and Flea's meat's as soft as a chicken's!" He raised his knife +menacingly; but dropped it slowly at sight of Ann and Katherine. + +"Sister Ann!" breathed Fledra. + +Ann's fingers grasped Vandecar's arm spasmodically; but, without +glancing back at her, he shook them off. His brow had gathered deep +lines at Lon's words, and now his unswerving gray eyes bent low to the +squatter. Under the steady gaze Cronk looked down and began to whittle. + +In after days Ann could always conjure up the picture before her. Fledra +looked so infinitely young and melancholy, as her eyes fixed themselves +in wide terror upon Cronk. Out of the ragged blouse rose the proud, dark +head, and the lovely face was almost overshadowed by two tightly +clenched fists. Instead of falling into her arms, as Ann had imagined +she would, the girl only sank lower to the floor, her face ghastly in a +new horror. Miss Shellington's patience gave way as she stared at +Vandecar--his delay was imperiling Fledra's life; for, if ever a wicked +face expressed hate and murder, the squatter's did now. She turned +appealing eyes to Katherine, and took a step forward; but the latter +held her and whispered: + +"Wait, wait a moment, Ann! Wait until Uncle has spoken!" + +The whisper broke the silence, and Fledra turned her eyes from Lon. She +wondered dazedly who the stranger was, and why he had come with Ann. She +thought of Horace, and a pain shot through her heart. She was aware that +his sister had come for her; but no thought entered her mind to give up +the yoke that would soon be too heavy to bear. Then Governor Vandecar +began to speak, and Fledra looked at him. + +"I have come to take back my own, Lon Cronk," said he, "that of which +you robbed me many years ago." + +"I ain't nothin' that belongs to ye, and ye'd better go back where ye +comed from, Mister--and don't--come no nearer!" + +As the squatter spoke, his lips spread wide over his teeth, and he began +picking up and laying down the bits of white wood. He did it +deliberately, and no one present imagined how the sight of Vandecar tore +at his heartstrings. Cronk could tolerate no robbing him of his revenge, +no taking away his chance of soothing the haunting spirit of his dead +woman. + +Again Ann touched the governor's arm. + +"Don't, Dear!" he said, pushing her back a little. "Lon Cronk--I want to +tell you--a story." + +Cronk made no response; only stooped over and gathered a few slender +whittlings, and stacked them up among the others. There was an intense, +biting silence, until the governor spoke again. + +"Nineteen years ago, when I lived in Syracuse, there came to me an +opportunity to convict a man of theft. Then I was young and happy; I +knew nothing of deep misery, or of--deep love." The hesitation on his +last words brought a shake from the squatter's shoulders. "This man, as +I have said, was a thief, admitted his crime to me; but, at the time of +his conviction, he pleaded with me that he might go home for a little +while to see his wife, who was ill. But of course I had no authority to +do that." + +A dark shade flashed over Cronk's face, followed by one of awful +suffering. + +"Yep, ye had," he repeated parrot-like; "ye might have let him go." + +"But I couldn't," proceeded the governor, "and the man was taken away to +prison without one glance at the woman who was praying to see him. For +she loved him more--than he did her." + +"That's a lie!" burst from Cronk's dry puckered lips. + +"I repeat, she loved him well," insisted Vandecar; "for every breath she +took was one of love for him." + +In the hush that followed his broken sentence, Lon moved one big foot +outward, then drew it back. + +"Afterward--I mean a few hours after the man was taken away--I began to +think of him and his agony--over the woman, and I went out to find her. +She was in a little hut down by the canal,--an ill-furnished, one-room +shanty,--but the woman was so sweet, so little, yet so ill, that I +thought only of her." + +A dripping sweat broke from every pore in Lon's body, and drops of water +rolled down his dark face. He groped about for another stick of wood, as +if blind. + +"She was too young, too small, Lon Cronk, for the cross she had to +bear." + +Lon threw up his head. + +"Jesus! what a blisterin' memory!" he said. + +His throat almost smothered the words. Ann began to sob; but Katherine +stood like a stone image, staring at the squatter. + +The governor's low voice went on again: + +"She was sicker than any woman I'd ever seen before, and when I was +there her little baby was born. I held her hands until she died. I +remember every message she sent you, Cronk. She told me to tell you how +much she loved you, and how the thought of your goodness to her and your +love would go down with her to the grave. If I could have saved her for +you, I should have done so; but she had to go. Then I wrote and asked +you if I should care for her body." + +An evil look overspread the squatter's face. The misty tears cleared, +and he began to scrape again at the wood. He flashed a murderous look +upward. + +"Ye could have left her dead in the hut, as long as yer killed her!" +said he. + +Not heeding the interruption, Vandecar went on: + +"But you sent me no word, and, because I was sorry, and because--" + +The knife slipped from Lon's stiffened fingers, and a long groan fell +from his lips. + +"I didn't get no word from ye!" he burst out. "I didn't know nothin' +till they told me she were dead." The man's head dropped down on his +chest. + +Relentlessly Vandecar spoke again: + +"Because I could not give you to her when she wanted you, and because +she had suffered so, I took her body and placed it in our family plot. I +went to the prison to tell you this, so that you could go to her grave +whenever you wished; but you had escaped the night before I arrived +there, and I never associated you with my great loss." + +The revenge Cronk had planned upon this man suddenly lost its savor +before the vividly drawn picture. He did not remember that Vandecar had +come for his girl; he had in mind only the wee, sweet squatter woman so +long dead. + +"Didn't the warden tell ye that I hit him, Mister," he groaned, "and +that I smashed the keeper when they telled me about her, and--and that +the strait-jacket busted my collarbone when I was tryin' to get out to +her?" + +Vandecar shuddered and shook his head; but before he could speak Cronk +wailed dazedly: + +"Ye might have come and telled me yerself, ye might a knowed how I +wanted ye to!" + +"I told you that I did come and you were gone," Vandecar answered +emphatically. + +"Ye didn't think how I loved her, how I'd a dreamed of huggin' my own +little brat!" + +Vandecar interrupted again: + +"I took the baby with me, Lon Cronk." At the word "baby," Lon dragged +his heavy hand backward across his eyes. "The baby," continued the +governor, "was no bigger than this,--a wee bit of a girl, such as all +big men love to father." + +The squatter stood rigidly up against the wall, until his head almost +reached the ceiling. His fierce eyes centered themselves upon Vandecar. + +"If I'd a knowed, Mister," he mumbled, "that ye'd took my little Midge's +hand in yer'n, that ye soothed her when she was a howlin' fer me, I +wouldn't have cribbed yer kids--I'll be damned if I would 'ave! But I +hated ye--Christ! how I hated ye! I could only think how ye wouldn't +help me." He shuddered, wiped his wet lips, and went on, "After that I +went plumb to hell. There weren't no living with me in prison, lessen I +were strapped in the jacket till my meat were scorched. It seemed as how +it made my hurt less for her to have my own skin blistered. Then, when I +got out of prison, I never once took my eyes offen ye, and when yer +woman gived ye Flea and Flukey--" + +A cry from Fledra brought all eyes upon her save Lon's. + +"When yer woman gived ye the two kids," he went on, "I let 'em stay long +enough for ye to love 'em; then I stole 'em away. But, if I'd a knowed +that ye tooked mine--" He moved forward restlessly and almost whispered, +"Mister, will ye tell me how the little 'un looked? And were it warm and +snuggly? Did ye let it lay ag'in' ye--and sleep?" The miserable, +questioning voice rose in demand, but lowered again. "Did ye let it grab +hold of yer fingers--oh, that were what I wanted more'n anythin' else! +And that's why I stealed yours; so ye'd know what sufferin' was. If ye'd +only telled me, Mister--if ye'd only telled me!" + +Vandecar groaned--groaned for them all, no more for himself and for his +gentle wife than for the great hulk of a man wrestling in agony. Tears +rose slowly to his lids; but he dashed them away. + +"Cronk," he cried, "Cronk, for God's sake, don't--don't! I've borne an +awful burden all these years, and every time I've thought of her I've +thought of you and wondered where you were." + +"I were with my little woman in spirit," the squatter interrupted, "when +I weren't tryin' to get even with you. Mister, will ye swear by God that +ye telled me the truth about the baby?" + +"I swear by God!" repeated Vandecar solemnly. + +"And I believe ye. I could a been good, if I'd a had the little kid +awhile. It were a bit of her, a little, livin' bit. I could a been, but +I wasn't, a good man. I loved to lash Flukey and Flea. I loved to make +the marks stand out on their legs and backs. And I tried to l'arn Flukey +to be a thief, and Flea were a goin' to Lem tomorry. It were the only +way I lived--the only way!" Cronk trailed on as if to himself. "The +woman camed and camed and haunted me, till my mind were almost gone, and +I allers seed the little kid's dead face ag'in' her, and allers she +seemed to tell me to haggle the life outen yer kids; and haggle I did, +till they runned away, and then I went after 'em, and Flea--" + +Vandecar stopped the speaker with a wave of the hand. + +"Then you brought her back here, and I discovered that she was mine, and +I came for her. Lon Cronk, you give me back my girl, and I'll," he +whitened to the very lips, and repeated,--"and I'll give you back +yours!" + +With a sweep of the arm Vandecar pushed Katherine forward. The very air +grew dense with anxiety. Ann clutched Katherine by the arm as if to stay +her movement, as if to keep her from the dazed squatter. His confession +of the kidnapping and his uncouth appearance forced Miss Shellington to +try and protect her gentle friend from his contact. But Katherine +loosened Ann's fingers in stony silence. Only a choking sound from +Fledra broke the quietude. She was staring into Lon's face, and he was +flashing from her to Katherine glances that changed and rechanged like +dark clouds passing over the heaven's blue. He saw Katherine, so like +his dead wife, bow her fair head before him. He noted her trembling +fingers pressed into pink palms, her slender body grow tense again and +again, relaxing only with spontaneous sobs. That he could touch the +fragile young creature, that he might listen to the call of his heart +and take her as his own, had not yet been fully forced upon him. The +meaning of Governor Vandecar's words seemed to leave his mind at +intervals; then his expression showed that he realized the truth of +them. He swayed forward; but crouched back once more against the wall. +Fledra rose silently to her feet, her ready intelligence grasping the +great fact that she was free, that the magnificent stranger had come for +her, that he claimed her as his. She was free from Lem, from Lon, free +to go back to Flukey. Lem's menacing shadow had lifted slowly from her +life, cast away by her own blood. For an instant there rose rampant in +her breast the desire to turn and fly, before another chance should be +given Lon to exert his authority over her. Then something snapped in her +head, and, unconscious, she sank noiselessly to the floor. No one +noticed her. She was like a small prey over which two great forces +ruthlessly fought and tore at human flesh and human hearts. + +Vandecar gently touched Katherine's arm; but her feet were powerless to +move. + +"Katherine," the governor groaned, "don't you remember that you cried +over him and your mother, and that--" + +"Yes, yes!" Katherine breathed. She was trying to still the beating of +her heart, trying to thrust aside a great, revolting fear; yet she knew +intuitively that the squatter was her father, and remembered how the +recounting of her mother's death had touched her. In one flashing +thought, she recalled how she had longed for a mother, and how she had +turned away when other girls were being caressed and loved. But never +had it entered her mind to imagine that her parents were like this. The +picture of the hut in which the wee woman had died rose within her--the +death agony had been so plainly described. The tall, shrinking, sobbing +man against the wall was her father! Even that afternoon, when Governor +Vandecar had told her of her birth and her mother's death, and of her +father in the lake hut, she had not imagined him like this man. Yet +something pleaded for him, some subtle, gentle spirit hovering near +seemed to drag her forward. She shuddered, slipped from Vandecar's arms, +and crouched down before the squatter. She turned a livid, twitching +face up to his, her eyes beseeching his with infinite compassion. All +that was beautiful in the gentle, soulful girl broke over Ann like a +surging sea. This girl, who had been brought up in a beautiful home, +always attended with loving kindness, was casting her lot with a man so +low and vile that another person would have turned away in disgust. Miss +Shellington's mind recalled her girlhood days, in which Katherine had +been an intimate part. She could not bear it. She took an impulsive +forward step; but Vandecar gripped her. + +"Stay," came sternly from his lips, "stay! But--but God pity her!" + +The next seconds were laden with biting agony such as neither the +governor nor Ann had ever experienced. Katherine pleaded silently with +the man above her for paternal recognition. Suddenly he drew away from +the kneeling girl and shrank into the corner, pressing the wall with his +great weight until the rotting boards of the shanty creaked behind him. +Only now and then was his mind equal to the task of owning her. +Gathering strength to speak, Katherine sobbed: + +"Father, Father, I never knew of you until today--I didn't know, I +didn't know!" + +In her agony she did not notice the fierce eyes melt with tenderness; +but Vandecar saw it with a tumultuous heart. He was waiting to claim the +little figure on the floor, that he might take her back to her mother. +In that way he would retrieve his own past errors and in a measure +redeem the misspent life of the thief. He saw Cronk smooth his brow with +a shaking hand, as if to wipe away from his befuddled brain the cobwebs +of indecision and time-gathered shadows. His lips, drawn awry with +intensity, opened only to drone: + +"Pretty little Midge, I thought as how ye were dead! And ye've come back +to yer man, a lovin' him as much as ever! God--God!" He raised streaming +eyes upward, and then finished, "God! And there be a God, no matter how +I said there wasn't! He didn't let ye die when I were pinched!" With a +mighty strength he swept the girl from the floor and turned mad eyes +upon Vandecar. + +"She ain't dead, Mister--I thought she were! Take back yer brat, and +keep yer boy--and God forgive me!" + +So tender was his last petition, that it seemed but a breath whispered +into the infinite listening ear of the God above. Katherine, like +Fledra, had lapsed into unconsciousness. + +"She's fainted!" cried Ann. "Oh, Katherine, poor, pretty little +Katherine!" + +"Help her, Ann!" urged Vandecar. "Do something for her!" + +He did not wait to see Ann comply; but turned to Fledra, who, still +wrapped in unconsciousness, lay crouched on the floor, her dark curls +massed in confusion. Granny Cronk's blouse had fallen away, leaving the +rounded shoulders bare and gleaming in the faint yellow light. + +The father gathered the daughter into his arms with passionate +tenderness. At first he did not try to revive her; but sat down and held +her close, as if he would never let her go. Tears, the product of weary +ages of waiting, fell on her white, upturned face, and again he murmured +thanksgivings into her unheeding ear. For many moments only the words of +Ann could be heard, as she tried to reason with Cronk to release +Katherine for a moment. + +"Lay her down, won't you? She's ill. Please, let me put water on her +face!" + +"Nope," replied Lon; "she won't git away from me ag'in. She's Midge, my +little Midge, my little woman, and she's mine!" + +"Yes, yes," answered Ann, "I know she's yours; but do you want her to +die?" + +With his great hands still locked about Katherine, Cronk looked down on +her lovely face, crushed against his breast. She was a counterpart of +the woman who had lived in another hut with him, and his dazed mind had +lost the intervening years. Midge had come out of the prison shadows, +and the big squatter had turned back two decades to meet her. + +"She's only asleep," he said simply; "she allers slep' on my breast, +Missus. She'd never let me put her off'n my arm a minute. And I didn't +want to, nuther. She were allers afeared of ghosts--allers, allers! And +I kep' her close like this. She ain't dead, Ma'm." + +His voice was free from anger and passion. By dint of persuasion, at +length Ann forced him to release Katherine and to aid her while she +bathed the girl's white face with water. + +Katherine was still limp and bewildered when, ten minutes later, Fledra +opened her eyes and looked up into her father's face. The past hour had +not returned to her memory, and she drew quickly away. Of late she had +become timid, always on the defensive; and when Ann spoke to her she +held out her arms. + +"I'm afraid!" she whimpered. "I want to go to Sister Ann." + +But Vandecar held her fast as Miss Shellington knelt on the hut floor at +his side. + +"Fledra, listen to me! This is your own father, Dear. Don't draw away +from him. He came with me for you. We're going to take you back to your +mother and little Floyd." + +It seemed an eternity to the waiting man before Fledra received him. +There were many things she had to reason away. It was necessary first to +dispense entirely with Lon Cronk, to feel absolutely free from Lem. +Until then, how could she feel secure? The eyes bent upon hers affected +her strangely. They were spotted like Flukey's, and had the same trick +of not moving when they received another's glance. Then Ann's +exclamation seemed to awaken her lethargic soul, and she seized upon the +word "mother." + +"Mother, Mother!" she stumbled, "oh, I want her, Sister Ann! I want her! +Will you take me to her? She's sweet and--and mine!" She made the last +statement in a low voice directly to Vandecar. + +"Yes, and I'm your father, Fledra," he whispered. He longed for her to +be glad in him--longed now as never before. + +Fledra's eyes sought Cronk's. He had forgotten her; Katherine alone held +his attention. Timidly she raised her arms and drew down her father's +face to hers. + +"I'm glad, I'm awful glad that you're mine--and you're Floyd's, too. Oh, +I'm so glad! And you say--my mother--" + +"Yes, Dear," Vandecar murmured, deeply moved; "a beautiful mother, who +is waiting and longing for her girl. Dear God, how thankful I am to be +able to restore you to her!" + +The governor held her close, while he told her of her babyhood and the +story of the kidnapping, refraining from mentioning Cronk's name. It +took sometime to impress upon her that all need of apprehension was +past, that her future cast with her own dear ones was safe, and that Lem +and Lon were but as shadows of other days. + +Katherine, weeping with despair, was sitting close to Lon. She knew +without being told that the father she had just found had lost from his +memory all of the bitterness of the years gone by. He had gone back to +his Midge, and now centered upon his newly found child the identity of +this dead woman. It was better so, even Katherine admitted; for he was +meek and tender, wholly unlike the sullen, ugly man they had seen +earlier in the evening. The squatter's condition made it impossible to +allow Katherine to be with him, and they dared not leave him alone in +the hut. Later, when they were making plans for Cronk's future, Vandecar +said: + +"We can't leave him here, Ann dear. Can't we take him with us, +Katherine?" + +"It's the only thing I can see to do," replied Ann, with catching +breath. + +"You'll come with him and me, Katherine, and we'll take him to the car, +while he is subdued. You, Ann, dress that child, and wait here for +Horace. I'll come back directly. I must place Cronk with the conductor, +for fear--" + +"Don't be long," begged Ann. "I'm so afraid!" + +"No, only long enough to signal the train and get them aboard. You must +be brave, dear girl, and we must all remember what he has suffered. His +heart is as big as the world, and I can't forget that, indirectly, I +brought this upon him." He turned his glance upon the squatter, and +Katherine's eyes followed his. The lines about Lon's mouth had softened +with tenderness, his eyes were filled with adoration. Katherine flashed +him back a sad smile. + +"The little Midge!" murmured Lon. "I'll never steal ag'in--never! And +I'll jest fish and work fer my little woman--my pretty woman!" + +Vandecar rose and went to the squatter. + +"Lon," he said, placing a hand upon the rough jacket, "will you bring +your little--" He was about to say daughter, but changed the word to +"Midge," and continued, "Will you bring Midge to my car and come to +Tarrytown with us?" + +Cronk stared vacantly. + +"Nope," he drawled; "I'll stay here in the hut with Midge. It's dark, +and she's afraid of ghosts. I'll never steal ag'in, Mister, so I can't +get pinched." + +Vandecar still insisted: + +"But won't you let your little girl come back and get her clothes? And +you, too, can come to our home, for--for a visit." His face crimsoned as +he prevaricated. + +But Lon still shook his head. + +"A squatter woman's place be in her home with her man," he said. + +Vandecar turned helplessly upon Katherine. + +"You persuade him," he entreated in an undertone. + +Katherine whispered her desire in her father's ear. + +"We'll go only for a few days," she promised. + +"And ye'll come back here?" he demanded. + +The girl glanced toward Governor Vandecar, and caught the slight +inclination of his head. + +"Yes," she promised; "yes, we'll come back, if you are quite well." + +Cronk stooped down and pressed his lips to hers. + +"I'd a gone with ye, Midge, 'cause I couldn't say no to nothin' ye asked +me." But he halted, as they tried to lead him through the door. + +"I don't like the dark," he muttered, drawing back. + +Fledra eyed him in consternation. Never before had she known him to +express fear of anything, much less of the elements which seemed but a +part of his own stormy nature. Never had she seen the great head bowed +or the shoulders stooped in timidity. Katherine had Cronk's hand in +hers, and she gently drew him forward. + +"Come, come!" she breathed softly. + +"I'm afraid," Lon whined again. "I want to stay here, Midge." He looked +back, and, encountering Vandecar's eyes, made appeal to him. + +"Cronk," the governor said, "do you believe that I am your friend?" + +The squatter flung about, facing the other. + +"Yep," he answered slowly, "I know ye be my friend. If ye'll let me walk +with my hand in yer'n, I'll go." He said it simply, as a child to a +parent. He held out his crooked fingers, and Vandecar seized them. +Katherine took up her position on the other side of her father, and the +three stepped out into the night and began slowly to ascend the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT + + +To Horace Shellington it seemed many hours before the small, jerky train +that ran between Auburn and Ithaca drew into the latter city. In his +eagerness to reach the squatter settlement without loss of time, he +hastened from the car into the station. He knew that it would be far +into the night before he reached Lon Cronk's, and, with his whole soul, +he hoped he would be in time to save Fledra from harm. At the little +window in the station he hurriedly demanded of the agent a mode of +conveyance to take him to the spot nearest the squatter's home. + +"There's no way to get there tonight over this road," said the man; "but +you might see if Middy Burnes could take you down the lake. He's got a +tug, and for a little money he'll run you right there." + +Horace quickly left the station, and, making his way to the street, +found the house to which he had been directed. At his knock Middy Burnes +poked a bald head out of the door and asked his business. In a few words +Shellington made known his wants. The tugman threw the door wider and +scratched his head as he cogitated: + +"Mister, it'll take me a plumb hour to get the fire goin' good in that +tug. If ye can wait that long, till I get steam up, I'll be glad to take +ye." So, presently the two walked together toward the inlet where the +boat was tied. + +"Who do you want to see down the lake this time of the year?" asked +Burnes, with a sidelong look at his tall companion. + +"Lon Cronk." + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Middy. "I jest brought him and Lem Crabbe up from +Tarrytown, with one of Lon's kids. She's a pretty little 'un. I pity +her, 'cause she didn't do nothin' but cry all the way up, and once she +jumped into the lake." + +"Did what?" + +The sharpness of Shellington's voice told Middy that this news was of +moment. + +"Well, ye see, 'tain't none of my business, 'cause the gal belongs to +Lon; but, if she was mine, I wouldn't give her to no Lem Crabbe. Lem +said she jumped in the lake after a pup; but I 'low he was monkeyin' +with her. Her pappy hopped in the water after her like a frog and pulled +her out quicker'n scat." + +With fear in his heart, Horace waited on deck for Burnes to get up +steam, and it seemed an interminable time before the tug at last drew +lazily from the inlet bridge, and, swinging round under Middy's +experienced hand, started slowly down the black stream. + + * * * * * + +Ann closed the shanty door after seeing the governor and his two +companions disappear up the hill, and smiled at Fledra with shining +eyes. The wonderful events of the evening had taken place in such rapid +order that she had no time to express her happiness to the girl. She +opened her arms, and Fledra darted into them. + +"It's all because you prayed, Sister Ann," she sobbed, "and because you +taught me how to pray. Does--does Horace know about my new father and +mother?" + +"No, Dear; he left Tarrytown before we ourselves knew. We received a +telegram from Horace saying he had come on to Ithaca. We must wait here; +for he'll arrive sometime tonight. We couldn't go and allow him to find +this place empty." + +"Of course not," the girl sighed impatiently. "Oh, I hope he comes +soon!" + +Her soul burned for a sight of him. He had been the first to fly to her +rescue, even when he had thought her but a squatter girl. He had not +shrunk from the dangers of the settlement, and, in spite of the peril of +Lem and Lon, he had been willing to drag her away from harm for the love +of her. The thought was infinitely sweet. + +At length Ann brought her to the present. + +"Fledra dear, can you realize that little Mildred is your own sister, +and that Mildred's mother is yours? Oh, Darling, you ought to be the +happiest girl in the world!" + +"I'm happy, all right," said Fledra gravely; "only, I feel sorry for +Katherine. Somehow, we changed Daddies, didn't we?" + +"Yes, Dear, and I feel for her too," lamented Ann. "I can't see how +she's going to bear it." + +"Maybe she's been a praying," said Fledra, "as I did when I thought I +was coming to Lem. It does help a lot." + +"Dear child, dear heart," murmured Ann, "your faith is greater than +mine! Katherine Vandecar is a saint, and--and so are you, Fledra." + +"No, I'm not." The girl dropped her eyes and flushed deeply. + +"Oh, but Fledra, you are!" Then a new thought entered Ann's mind, and +she hesitated before she continued. "Fledra, will you tell me something +about Mr. Brimbecomb? I mean--you know--the trouble you spoke of in your +letter to him?" + +Fledra flashed a startled glance. + +"Did he dare show it to you?" + +"No, no, Fledra; he dropped it, and Horace found it." + +"Is that the way you knew where I'd gone?" + +"Yes, and on account of it Floyd went to the governor's house." + +"Oh, why did you let Floyd go out? He is so ill!" Her eyes were +reproachful. + +Ann, with a smile, kissed the girl. + +"Dear, unselfish child," said she, "don't you understand that, if he +hadn't gone, you wouldn't have your strong, big father, nor would little +Floyd be now with his mother?" + +"Maybe our mother'll make Floyd well," cried Fledra. "Oh, she couldn't +help but love him, could she, Sister Ann?" + +"And it will be impossible for her not to love you, Deary," exclaimed +Ann, wiping her eyes. "But now you must dress. Have you still the +clothes you wore away from home?" + +"Yes, I have them; but they're all mussed. I fell in the lake, and got +them all wet, and they're wrinkled now. They're up in the loft. +Wait--I'll get them." She was scrambling up the ladder as she spoke, and +her last words were uttered in the darkness of the loft. + +Ann could hear the girl moving about overhead, and heard the dragging of +a box across the floor. Then another sound broke upon her ears, and +before she could move toward the door it opened, and a shabby, one-armed +man shuffled in, followed by Everett Brimbecomb. + + * * * * * + +After Everett had disappeared across the little bridge, Scraggy closed +the rickety door of her hut and went fidgeting about in the littered +room. Long she brooded, sniveling in her bewilderment. Something hazy, +something out of the past, knocked incessantly upon her demented brain. +This something touched her heart; for she whimpered as does a hurt child +when the hurt is deep and the child's mother is not near. She still +missed Black Pussy, and when she thought of the loss of her only friend +wilder paroxysms of frenzied grief filled the shanty. + +After one of her raving fits of crying more vehement than those +preceding, Black Pussy again came to her mind, and suddenly she was +taken back to the wintry night she had lost him. Feebly she put the +events of that evening together, one by one, until like a burst of light +the memory of her boy came to her. Not once hitherto had she remembered +him since his blow had sent her into unconsciousness. Now she recalled +how roughly her son had handled her, and she did not forget his threat +to kill her if she ever mentioned to anyone that she was his mother. She +recognized, too, the identity of the stranger who had asked her the way +to the scow but a little while before. + +A sane expression came into her eyes, and she settled herself back to +think. With her pondering came a clear thought--her boy was seeking his +father! Still somewhat dazed, she tottered to one corner of the hut and +fumbled for her shawl. + +"He axed for Lon!" she whispered. "Nope, he axed for Lem, his own daddy. +Now, Lemmy'll take me with 'em--oh, how I love 'em both! And the boy'll +eat all he wants, and his little hand'll smooth my face when my head +aches!" + +Muttering fond words, she opened the door and slid out into the night. +She paused on the rustic bridge, the sound of footsteps in the lane that +led to the tracks bringing her to a standstill. Several persons were +approaching her. They came steadily nearer, passed the footpath that led +to her hut, and she crept out. Two men and a woman were near enough for +Screech Owl to touch them, if she had put out her hand. She remained +perfectly quiet, and Lon Cronk's voice, muttering words she did not +understand, came to her through the underbrush. Then, in her joy, +Scraggy speedily forgot them, and, as she hurried down the hill sent out +cry after cry into the clear night. + + * * * * * + +For a long time Miss Shellington stood staring at Everett, and the man +as fixedly at her. The movements were still going on in the loft. + +"How came you here?" cried Ann sharply, when she had at last gathered +her senses. + +"I might ask you the same thing," replied Everett suavely. "This is +scarcely a place for a girl like you." + +"I came after Fledra," she said slowly. "I didn't know--" + +Everett came forward and crowded back her words with: + +"And I came for the same person!" + +Brimbecomb reasoned quickly that he dared not tell Ann the truth, and +that so long as she thought his actions were for Fledra's welfare she +would stand by him. + +"I found out that these ruffians had taken her, and I came after her. I +thought a good school would be better than this." He swept his hand over +the hut, and did not notice the expression that flitted across Ann's +face. + +Lem uttered an unintelligible grunt, and growled: + +"He's a damned liar, Miss! He wanted to buy the gal from me and Lon." + +Everett laughed sneeringly. + +"Miss Shellington would not believe such a tale as that," said he; "she +knows me too well." + +"I do believe him," said Ann. "I saw the letter you lost, which Fledra +wrote you. You dropped it in our drawing-room. Horace found it." + +Everett saw his fall coming. He would not be worsted by this woman, who +had believed once that he was the soul of truth. To lose her and the +prestige of her family, and to lose also Fledra, was more than he would +endure. He bounded forward and grasped her arm fiercely. + +"Where is that squatter girl? I'll stand nothing from you or that +brother of yours! Where is he, and where is she?" + +Ann stood silently praying for strength. So plainly had Everett shown +his colors that she felt disgust grow in her heart, although her eyes +were directed straight upon him. She hoped that the girl in the loft +upstairs would not come down until Governor Vandecar returned. Again she +sent up a soul-moving petition for help. + +"You can't have her!" she said, trying to speak calmly. "She is going to +marry my brother, Everett." + +Just then Fledra, robed in her own clothes, scrambled to the top rung of +the ladder. She paused halfway down and glanced over the scene below +with unbelieving eyes. + +"Go back up, Fledra," commanded Ann. + +"I don't think she'll go back up," gritted Brimbecomb. "Come down!" He +advanced a step, with his hand upon his hip. "I've something to coax you +with," he declared in an undertone. "It is this!" + +Fledra saw the revolver, noted the expression on the man's face, and +stepped slowly down the ladder. The silence of the moment that followed +was broken by several loud hoots of an owl. The first one seemed in +direct proximity to the hut; the last ones came faintly from the shore +of the lake. + +When she saw the gun, Ann whitened to the ears, and the threat in +Everett's eyes caused Lem to gurgle in his throat, as if he would speak +but could not. + +"I told you," said Everett, with his lips close to Fledra's ear, "that +I would use any means to get you.... Stand aside there--you two!" + +He turned his flashing eyes upon the scowman and Ann, and, placing his +arm about Fledra, drew her forward. The girl was so dazed at the turn of +affairs that she allowed Everett to drag her, unresisting, half the +length of the room. Then her glance moved upward to Ann. Miss +Shellington's face was as pallid as death, and her horrified look at +Everett brought Fledra to her senses. The girl looked appealingly at +Lem. The scowman's squinted eyes and the contortions of his face caused +Fledra to cry out: + +"Lem, Lem, save me! save me!" + +Crabbe drew his heavy body more compactly together, and, with his eyes +glued upon the revolver, advanced along the wall toward Brimbecomb. His +frightful wheezes and choking gulps attracted the lawyer's attention to +him, and the gun was suddenly leveled at his breast. + +"Stand back there, Crabbe!" ordered Everett. "You have nothing to do +with this." + +But, as the lawyer spoke, Lem sprang forward with the fierceness of a +wild beast. Instantly followed the report of a revolver; but the bullet +went wide and sunk into the opposite wall, for, as Everett aimed at Lem, +Fledra twisted and struck his arm so heavily that his fingers loosened +and the weapon clattered across the room. + +The impact of the scowman's body bore the lawyer down, while Fledra was +thrown away from the struggle by a sweep of Lem's left arm. Ann was +petrified with fear; but this did not keep her from picking up the girl +from the floor. In her terror she took in each motion of the fighters. +She saw Lem lift his left hand, and heard the sickening thud as his +great brown fist struck Everett full in the face. She saw the hook flash +in the candlelight, then bury its glittering prong in the other's neck. +Everett screamed once, then was silent; for with his unmaimed hand the +scowman had grasped his enemy's throat and was shaking the body as a dog +does a rat. In his frenzy, Lem threshed and tumbled Brimbecomb about on +the hut floor, the sight of his rival's blood sending him mad; and +always the sound of his gasps and chokes rose above the struggle. Of a +sudden the gurgles in the throat of the scowman ceased, his face became +purple black, and it seemed to Ann that his blood must burst through the +thick skin. With one last movement he again buried his hook in Everett, +then tried to throw the body from him; but, instead, he himself, fell in +a heap on the floor. + +Suddenly the door opened, and Scraggy Peterson staggered into the hut. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE + + +She sent no glance at Ann, nor did she see Fledra shrinking in the +corner. No thought came to her weak brain save of the two men at grips +with death. She staggered forward with a cry. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy, ye wouldn't kill yer own brat?... He's our little 'un!... +Lemmy!... God!... Ye've killed him!" + +Scraggy put her hands on Everett, and saw Lem struggle to sit up, the +lust of killing still blazing in his eyes. He had heard the woman's +words, and as he slowly grasped the import of them he turned over and +raised his head while pulling desperately at his throat. + +"Oh, Lemmy, love," she murmured, "ye've killed him this time! He's +dead!" She leaned farther over, and kissed the white face of her son. +"Yer hook's killed our little 'un, Lemmy--my little 'un, my little 'un!" + +"Oh, no, no, he isn't dead!" cried Ann. "He can't be dead!" She let go +her hold on Fledra, and, with Scraggy, bent over Everett. "Oh, he +breathes! But he isn't your son?" + +"Yep; he be Lemmy's boy and mine," answered Scraggy, lifting her eyes +once more to Ann. "Look! He were hurt here by the hook when he were a +baby." She drew aside Everett's tattered shirt-front and displayed a +long white mark. + +Ann staggered back. Everett had said to her: + +"My mother will know me by the mark on my breast." + +So this was the end of Everett's dream! + +"He didn't love his mammy very much," Scraggy went on, "nor his pappy, +nuther; but it were 'cause he didn't know nuther one of us very well, +and Lem didn't love him nuther. And now they've fit till he's dead! +Lemmy's sick, too. Look at his face! He can't swaller when he's sick +like that." She left Everett and crawled to Lem. + +"Can ye drink, Lemmy?" she asked sorrowfully. + +The grizzled head shook a negative. + +"Be ye dyin?" + +This time Crabbe's head came forward in assent. + +"Then ye dies with yer little boy--poor little feller! He were the +bestest boy in the hull world!" Here she placed an arm under Everett's +neck; throwing the other about Lem, she drew the two men together before +she resumed. "And Lemmy was the bestest man and pappy that anybody ever +see!" + + * * * * * + +Screech Owl's last words were nearly drowned by the shrill whistle of a +steamer. A minute later Ann and Fledra heard running footsteps coming +from the direction of the lake. There was no knock; but a quick jerk of +the latch-string flung wide the door--and Fledra was in Horace's arms. + +"Thank God, my little girl is safe!" he murmured. + +Then he glanced over her head, his horrified attention centered upon the +group on the floor. + +Scraggy looked up at him, still holding Lem and Everett. + +"I'm glad ye comed, Mister. Can't ye help 'em any?" + +For many minutes they worked in silence over the father and son. Once +the brilliant eyes of Brimbecomb opened and flashed bewilderedly about +the room, until he caught sight of Ann. A smile, sweet and winning, +curved his lips. Then he lapsed into unconsciousness again. + +"Oh, I want him to speak to me, Horace," moaned Ann, "only a little +word!" + +"Wait, Dear," said Horace. "We're doing all we can.... I believe that +man over there is dead." + +He made a motion as if to lean over the scowman; but Scraggy pushed him +back. + +"No, my Lemmy ain't dead," she wailed, "course he ain't dead!" She +placed her lips close to the dying man's ear, and called, "Lemmy, Lemmy, +this be Scraggy!" + +The hooked arm moved a trifle, and then was still. The fingers of the +left hand groped weakly about, and Scraggy, with a sob, lifted the arm +and put it about her. Had the others in the room been mindful of the +action, they would have seen the man's muscles tighten about the woman's +thin neck. Then presently his arm loosened and he was dead. + +Everett's eyes were open, and he was trying to speak. + +"Is--Ann--here?" he whispered faintly. + +"Yes, Dear, I am here, right close beside you. Can't you feel my hands?" + +His head turned feebly, and his fingers sought hers. + +"I have been--wretchedly--wicked!" + +His voice was so low that Horace did not catch the words; but Scraggy +heard, and crawled from Lem to Miss Shellington's side. + +"Missus, will ye tell my little boy-brat that his mammy be here? Will ye +say as how I loved him--him and Lemmy, allers?" + +Her haggard face was close to Ann's, and the latter took in every word +of the low-spoken petition. Miss Shellington bent over the dying man. + +"Everett," she said brokenly, "your own mother is here, and she wants +you to speak to her." + +Brimbecomb partly rose, and, in scanning those in the hut, his eyes fell +upon Screech Owl. The tense agony seemed for an instant to leave his +face, and it fell into more boyish lines. + +"Little 'un--pretty little 'un," whispered Scraggy "yer mammy loves ye, +and Lemmy loved ye, too, if he did hit ye!" + +Screech Owl hung over him many minutes in a breathless silence; but when +Vandecar came in Everett, too, was dead. Then, at last, Scraggy moved +toward the door, and, with the same wild cry that had haunted the +settlement for so many years, sprang out into the night. + + * * * * * + +From her hiding place in the gulch, Scraggy saw Vandecar and the rest +mount the hill. When they had disappeared, she slunk down the lane and +made straight for Lon's hut. With dread in her eyes, she stood for +sometime before the dark shanty, and then swayed forward to the window. + +When she reached it, superstition forced her back; but love proved +stronger than fear, and she looked into the room. So dark was it within +that she could see only the white mound on the floor--the mound made by +the dead father and son. They were hers--all that was left of the men +she had loved always! Scraggy tried the door; but found it locked. Then +she attempted to move the window; but it, too, had been fastened. With a +stone she hammered out the glass, making an opening through which she +dragged her body. As she stood there in silent gloom, the very air +seemed to hang heavy with death. In the dark Scraggy broke out into +sobs, and was seized with spasms of shivering; she had no strength to +move forward or backward. + +But again love drove her on, and some seconds passed before she found +matches to light the candle. When the dim flame lighted up the room, she +turned slowly to the middle of the floor. Tremblingly she drew down the +covering and looked upon her dead. They were hers--these men were hers +even in death! Chokingly she stifled her sobs, and then the decision +came to her that she would keep a night vigil until break of day. Of the +two, Screech Owl knew not which she loved better. + +"Ye both be dead," she moaned, looking first at Lem then at Everett; +"dead so ye'll never breathe no more! But Scraggy loves ye.... God! ye +nuther one of ye knows how she loves ye! There weren't no men in the +hull world as good as ye both was.... Lemmy didn't know ye was his, +little 'un, and ye didn't know Lemmy were yer daddy. I'll stay with ye +both till the day." + +Saying this, she crouched low between Crabbe and Brimbecomb, and, +encircling each neck with an arm, thrust her face down close between +them. + +Lon Cronk's old clock on the shelf ticked out the minutes into the +somberness of the hut. The waves of the lake, breaking ceaselessly upon +the shore, softened the harsh, uneven croaks of the marsh-frogs with +their harmony. Through the broken window drifted the night noises, and +the wind fluttered the candle-flame weakly. Suddenly Screech Owl thought +she heard a voice--a voice filled with tender sympathy and pathos. +Without disengaging her arms, she lifted herself and searched with dim +eyes even the corners of the hut. Misty forms shaded to ghost-gray +seemed to steal out and group themselves about her dead. She took her +arm from Everett and brushed back the straggling locks that blurred her +sight. + +The voice spoke again, pronouncing her name in low, even tones. Once +more she wound her arm about Everett, and pressed herself down between +her beloveds. Her eyes, protruding and fearful, saw the candlelight grow +dimmer. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy," she gasped between hard-coming breaths, "I'm comin' +after ye and our pretty boy! Wherever ye both be--I come--" + +A film gathered over Scraggy's eyes, and her words were cut short by the +pain of the intermittent flutterings of her heart. She fell lower, and +with a last weak effort drew the heads closer together. Then Scraggy's +spirit, which had ever sought her lover and her son, took flight out +into the vast expanse of the universe, to find Everett and Lem. + + * * * * * + +Governor Vandecar bent over his wife. + +"Darling," he murmured, "I have brought you back your other baby. Won't +you turn and--look at--her?" + +Fledra was standing at her father's side, and now for an instant she +looked down into the blue eyes through which she saw the yearning heart +of her mother. Then she knelt down with Floyd, and they rested their +heads in tearful silence under the hands of these dear ones, who +trembled with thankfulness. + +The last fifteen years flashed as a panorama across the governor's mind. +That day he had discharged his debt to Lon Cronk by placing the squatter +where his diseased mind could be treated, and he had insisted that his +own name and home should be Katharine's, the same as of yore. It was not +until Mildred opened the door and entered hesitantly that he raised his +head. Silently he held out his arms and drew his baby girl into them. + + * * * * * + +Horace's first duty when he returned to Tarrytown was to make Ann as +comfortable as he could. She had borne up well under the tragedy, and +smiled at him bravely as he left for Vandecar's. The governor met him in +the hall and drew him into his library. + +"I must speak with you, boy, before--" + +"Then I may talk with Fledra?" + +The governor hesitated. + +"She is so young yet, Horace! I beg of you to wait, won't you? There are +many things to be attended to before she can leave her mother and me. +We've only just found her." + +"I must see her, though," replied Horace stubbornly. + +"You shall, if you will promise me--" + +"I won't promise anything," said Horace, slowly raising his eyes. "After +I have spoken to her, we'll decide." + +Vandecar sighed and touched the bell. + +"Say to Miss Fledra that I wish to speak with her," he said to the +servant. + +After a moment they heard her coming through the hall. Vandecar placed +his hand upon Horace's arm; but the young man flung it off as the door +opened and Fledra came in. Her face was still pale and wan. Her eyes +darkened by circles, testified to the misery of the days since she had +left him. Horace spoke her name softly, held out his arms, and she fled +into them. He pressed her head closely to his breast, smoothing the +black curls, while blinding tears coursed down his face. The governor +turned from them to the window. He stood there, until Horace asked +huskily: + +"Fledra, Fledra, do you still love me? Oh, say that you do! I'm +perishing to be forgiven for my lack of faith in you. Can you forgive +me, beloved?" + +"I love you, Horace," she murmured, lifting bright, shy eyes. "And I +love my beautiful mother, too, and--oh, I--worship my splendid father." + +She held out one hand to Governor Vandecar, over which the father closed +his fingers. Then she threw back her head and smiled at them both. + +"I'm going to stay with my mother till she gets well. I'm goin' to help +Floyd till he walks as well as ever. Then I'm goin' to study and read +till my father's satisfied. Then, after that," she turned a radiant +glance on both men, and ended, "when he wants me, I'll go with my +Prince." + + + THE END + + + * * * * * + +JOHN FOX, JR'S. + +STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.= + + +THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +_foot-prints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and +the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder +chase than "the trail of the lonesome pine." + + +THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It +is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization. + +"Chad," the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he +came--he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, +seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and +mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery--a charming waif, +by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in the +mountains. + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the +heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two +impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of "The Blight's" +charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the +love making of the mountaineers. + +Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives. + + +_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_ + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL + + +THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles. + +The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a +middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his +theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could +desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening +follows and in the end he works out a solution. + + +A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As The _Inside of +the Cup_ gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so +_A Far Country_ deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with +other vital issues confronting the twentieth century. + + +A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper. + +This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine, +is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It +is frankly a modern love story. + + +MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys. + +A New England state is under the political domination of a railway and +Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people +is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own +interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays +no small part in the situation. + + +THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis. + +Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky +wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in +Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi, +and the treasonable schemes against Washington. + + +CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn. + +A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a +crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then +surrendered all for the love of a woman. + + +THE CELEBRITY. An episode. + +An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities +between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest, +keenest fun--and is American to the core. + + +THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play. + +A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid +power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are +inspiring. + + +RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer. + +An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial +times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and +interesting throughout. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +ZANE GREY'S NOVELS + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.= + + +THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS +Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton. + +Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent Mexican +border of the present day. A New York society girl buys a ranch which +becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal cowboys defend her +property from bandits, and her superintendent rescues her when she is +captured by them. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful +close. + + +DESERT GOLD +Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, lost in the +desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they can go no +farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising along the +border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the two prospectors +had willed to the girl who is the story's heroine. + + +RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE +Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon +authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a rich ranch +owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by the invisible +hand of the Mormon Church to break her will. + + +THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN +Illustrated with photograph reproductions. + +This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, +known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert +and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of yellow crags, deep canons +and giant pines." It is a fascinating story. + + +THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT +Jacket in color. Frontispiece. + +This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A lovely girl, who +has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young New Englander. The +Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall become the second +wife of one of the Mormons-- + +Well, that's the problem of this sensational, big selling story. + + +BETTY ZANE +Illustrated by Louis F. Grant. + +This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful +young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. Life +along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty's heroic defense of the +beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, and Betty's +final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.= + + +LADDIE. +Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story +is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it +is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs +of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie, the +older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess, an English +girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about whose family +there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the book and a +double wedding at the close. + + +THE HARVESTER. +Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. + +"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who +draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the +book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be +notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," and the +Harvester's whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life +which has come to him--there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic +quality. + + +FRECKLES. +Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford. + +Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great +Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to +the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The +Angel" are full of real sentiment. + + +A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. +Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda. + +The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of +the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness +towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of +her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and +unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage. + + +AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. +Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. + +The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The +story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. +The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and +its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + * * * * * + + + Transcriber's note: Punctuation has been made regular and consistent + with contemporary standards. + + Page 67, "forword" changed to "forward" (boy went forward). + + Page 320, "wip" changed to "wipe" (to wipe away). + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Valley of the Missing, by +Grace Miller White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + +***** This file should be named 18093-8.txt or 18093-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/0/9/18093/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From the Valley of the Missing + +Author: Grace Miller White + +Release Date: April 1, 2006 [EBook #18093] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div style="text-align: center; margin-bottom: 4.00em; margin-top: 4.00em;"> + <span style="font-size: 250%;">FROM THE VALLEY<br/>OF THE MISSING</span><br /><br /><br /> + BY<br /><br /> + <span style="font-size: 140%;">GRACE MILLER WHITE<br /> + </span> + <br /><br /><br /> + <span style="font-size: smaller">AUTHOR OF<br />TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY</span> + <br /><br /> + <span style="font-size: smaller">ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY<br /> + PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTED BY THE FOX FILM CORPORATION</span> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + <div class="figcenter"> + <img src="images/illus-emblem.png" width="80" alt="Illustration: Decorative Mark" title="" /> + </div> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + <span style="text-align:center; font-size: 120%"> + GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> + PUBLISHERS : + New York<br /> + </span> + <br /><br /> + <hr class="full" /> + <p class="center">Copyright, 1911, by <br /> + W. J. WYATT & COMPANY</p> + <hr class="minor" /> + <p class="center">Published, August, 1911</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus-001th.jpg" +alt="ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL." +title="ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL" /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-001.jpg"> +ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL.<br/> +</a> +<i>Frontispiece</i> (<i>Page</i> 276.)</p> +</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h2>Table of Contents</h2> + +<table width="60%" border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER ONE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWO</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THREE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER FOUR</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER FIVE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER SIX</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER SEVEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER EIGHT</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">59</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER NINE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER ELEVEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">88</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWELVE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">105</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER SIXTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">136</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN">152</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER NINETEEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINETEEN">162</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY">173</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE">180</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO">185</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-FIVE">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-SIX">226</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-SEVEN">234</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-EIGHT">241</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-NINE">256</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY">263</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-ONE">271</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-TWO">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-THREE">282</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-FOUR">289</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-FIVE">300</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-SIX">307</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-SEVEN">311</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-EIGHT">326</a></td></tr> +<tr><td><b>CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE</b></td><td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTY-NINE">335</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span> +<h2>“FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING”</h2> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h3> +</div> + +<p>One afternoon in late October four lean mules, with stringy muscles +dragging over their bones, stretched long legs at the whirring of their +master's whip. The canalman was a short, ill-favored brute, with coarse +red hair and freckled skin. His nose, thickened by drink, threatened the +short upper lip with obliteration. Straight from ear to ear, deep under +his chin, was a zigzag scar made by a razor in his boyhood days, and +under emotion the injured throat became convulsed at times, causing his +words to be unintelligible. The red flannel shirt, patched with colors +of lighter shades, lay open to the shoulders, showing the dark, rough +skin.</p> + +<p>"Git—git up!" he stuttered; and for some minutes the boat moved +silently, save for the swish of the water and the patter of the mules' +feet on the narrow path by the river.</p> + +<p>From the small living-room at one end of the boat came the crooning of a +woman's voice, a girlish voice, which rose and fell without tune or +rhythm. Suddenly the mules came to a standstill with a "Whoa thar!"</p> + +<p>"Pole me out a drink, Scraggy," bawled the man, "and put a big snack of +whisky in it—see?"</p> + +<p>The boulder-shaped head shot forward in command as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> he spoke. And he +held the reins in his left hand, turning squarely toward the scow. +Pushing out a dark, rusty, steel hook over which swung a ragged +coat-sleeve, he displayed the stump of a short arm.</p> + +<p>As the woman appeared at the bow of the boat with a long stick on the +end of which hung a bucket, Lem Crabbe wound the reins about the steel +hook and took the proffered pail in the fingers of his left hand.</p> + +<p>"Ye drink too much whisky, Lem," called the woman. "Ye've had as many as +twenty swigs today. Ye'll get no more till we reaches the dock—see?"</p> + +<p>To this Lem did not reply. His shrewd eyes traveled up and down the +girlish figure in evil meaning. His thick lips opened, and the swarthy +cheeks went awry in a grimace. Before the hideous spasm of his silent +merriment the woman who loved him paled, and turned away with a shudder. +She slouched down the short flight of steps, and the man, with a grin, +malicious and cunning, lifted the tin pail to his lips.</p> + +<p>"It's time for her to go," he muttered as he wiped his mouth, "it's time +for her to go! Git back here, Scraggy, and take this 'ere drink cup!"</p> + +<p>This time the woman appeared with a fat baby in her arms. Mechanically +she unloosened the pail from the bent nail on the end of the pole and +put it down, watching the man as he unwound the reins from the hook. +Again the long-eared animals stretched their muscles at his hoarse +command. He paid no more attention to the woman, who, seated on a pile +of planks, was eying the square end of the boat. She drew a plaid shawl +close up under the baby's chin and threaded her listless fingers through +his dark curls. Scraggy's thin hair was drawn back from her wan face, +and her narrow shoulders were bowed with burdens too heavy for her +years; but she hugged the little creature sleeping on her breast, and +still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> kept her eyes upon the scene. Beyond she could see the smoke +rising from the buildings in the city of Albany, where they were to draw +the boat up for the night. On each side of the river bank, behind clumps +of trees, stood the mansions of those men for whom, according to Scraggy +Peterson's belief, the world had been made. Finally her gaze dropped to +the scow, where little rivers of water made crooked paths across the +deck. Piles of planks reared high at her back, and edged the scow with +the squareness of a room. Scraggy knew that hauling lumber was but the +cover for a darker trade. Yet as she glanced at the stolid, indifferent +man trudging behind the mules a lovelight sprang into her eyes.</p> + +<p>Later, by an hour, the mules came to a halt at Lem's order.</p> + +<p>"Throw down that gangplank, Scraggy," stammered Crabbe, "and put the +brat below! I want to get these here mules in. The storm'll be here in +any minute."</p> + +<p>Obediently the woman hastened to comply, and soon the tired mules +munched their suppers, their long faces filling the window-gaps of the +stable.</p> + +<p>Lem Crabbe followed the woman down the scow-steps amid gusty howls of +the wind, and the night fell over the city and the black, winding river. +The man ate his supper in silence, furtively casting his eyes now and +then upon the slender figure of the woman. He chewed fast, uttering no +word, and the creaking of the heavy jaws and the smacking of the coarse +lips were the only sounds to be heard after the woman had taken her +place at the table. Scraggy dared not yet begin to eat; for something +new in her master's manner filled her with sudden fear. By sitting very +quietly, she hoped to keep his attention upon his plate, and after he +had eaten he would go to bed. She was aroused from this thought by the +feeble whimper of her child in the tiny room of the scow's bow. +Although<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> the woman heard, she made no move to answer the weak summons.</p> + +<p>She rose languidly as the child began to cry more loudly; but a command +from Lem stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Set down!" he said.</p> + +<p>"The brat's a wailin'," replied Scraggy hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"Set down, and let him wail!" shouted Lem.</p> + +<p>Scraggy sank unnerved into the chair, gazing at him with terrified eyes. +"Why, Lem, he's too little to cry overmuch."</p> + +<p>"Keep a settin', I say! Let him yap!"</p> + +<p>For the second time that day Scraggy's face shaded to the color of +ashes, and her gaze dropped before the fierce eyes directed upon her.</p> + +<p>"Ye said more'n once, Scraggy," began Lem, "that I wasn't to drink no +more whisky. Whose money pays for what I drink? That's what I want ye to +tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Yer money, Lem dear."</p> + +<p>"And ye say as how I couldn't drink what I pay for?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I has said it," was the timid answer. "Ye drink too much—that's +what ye do! Ye ain't no mind left, ye ain't! And it makes ye ugly, so it +does!"</p> + +<p>"Be it any of yer business?" demanded Lem insultingly, as he filled his +mouth with a piece of brown bread. After washing it down with a drink of +whisky, he finished, "Ye ain't no relation to me, be ye?"</p> + +<p>The thin face hung over the tin plate.</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't married to me, be ye?"</p> + +<p>And, while a giant pain gnawed at her heart, she shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Then what right has ye got to tell me what to do? Shut up or get +out—ye see?"</p> + +<p>He closed his jaw with a vicious snap, resting his half-dazed head on +his mutilated arm. Louder came the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> baby's cries from the back room. +Thinking Lem had ended his tirade, Scraggy made a motion to rise.</p> + +<p>"Set still!" growled Crabbe.</p> + +<p>"Can't I get the brat, Lemmy?" she pleaded. "He's likely to fall offen +the bed."</p> + +<p>"Let him fall. What do I care? I want to tell ye somethin'. I didn't +bring ye here to this boat to boss me, ye see? Ye keep yer mouth shet +'bout things what ye don't like. Ye're in my way, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Ye mean, Lemmy, as how I has to leave ye?"</p> + +<p>Crabbe regarded the appealing face soddenly before answering. "Yep, +that's what I mean. I'm tired of a woman allers a snoopin' around, and a +hundred times more tired of the brat."</p> + +<p>"But he's yer own," cried the woman, "and ye did say as how ye'd marry +me for his sake! Didn't ye say it, Lem? He ain't nothin' but a baby, an' +he don't cry much. Will ye let me an' him stay, Deary?"</p> + +<p>"Ye can stay tonight; but tomorry ye go, and I don't give a hell where, +so long as ye leave this here scow, an' I'm a tellin' ye this—" He +halted with an exasperated gesture. "Go an' get that kid an' shet his +everlastin' clack!"</p> + +<p>Scraggy bounded into the inner room, and, once out of sight of the +watchful eyes of Lem, snatched up the infant and pressed her lips +passionately to the rosy skin.</p> + +<p>"Yer mammy'll allers love ye, little 'un, allers, allers, no matter what +yer pappy does!"</p> + +<p>She whispered this under her breath; then, dragging the red shawl about +her shoulders, appeared in the living-room with the child hidden from +view.</p> + +<p>"An' I'll tell ye somethin' else, too," burst in Lem, pulling out a +corncob pipe: "that it ain't none of yer business if I steal or if I +don't. I was born a thief, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> I told ye many a time, and last night ye +made Lon Cronk and Eli mad as hell by chippin' in."</p> + +<p>"They be bad men," broke in the woman, "and ye know—"</p> + +<p>"I know ye're a damn blat-heels, and I know more'n that: that yer own +pappy ain't no angel, and ye needn't be a sayin' my friends ain't no +right here—ye see? They be—"</p> + +<p>"They be thieves and liars, too," interrupted Scraggy, allowing the +sleeping babe to sink to her knees, "and the prison's allers a yawnin' +for 'em!"</p> + +<p>"Wall, I ain't a runnin' this boat for fun," drawled Lem, "nor for to +draw lumber for any ole guy in Albany. Ye know that I draw it jest to +hide my trade, and if, after ye leave here, ye open yer head to tell +what ye've seen, ye'll get this—ye see?" He held up the hooked arm +menacingly. "Ye've seen me rip up many a man with it, ain't ye, +Scraggy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"And I ain't got nothin' ag'in' rippin' up a woman, nuther. So, when ye +go back to yer pa in Ithacy, keep yer mouth shet.... Will ye let up that +there cryin'?"</p> + +<p>Suppressing her tears, Scraggy shoved back a little from the table. "I +love ye, Lem," she choked, "and, if ye let me stay, I'll do whatever ye +say. I won't talk nothin' 'bout drink nor stealin'. If I go ye'll get +another woman! I know ye can't live on this here scow without no woman."</p> + +<p>"And that ain't none of yer business, nuther—ye hear?" Lem grunted, +settling deep into his chair, with an oath. "I'll get all the women in +Albany, if I want 'em! I don't never want none of yer lovin' any more!"</p> + +<p>During this bitter insult a storm-cloud broke overhead, sending sheets +of water into the river. The wind howled above Crabbe's words, and he +brought out the last of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> sentence in a higher key. Suddenly the +shrill whistle of a yacht brought the drunken man to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's some 'un alone in trouble," he muttered. But his tones were not so +low as to escape the woman.</p> + +<p>"Ye won't do no robbin' tonight, Deary—not tonight, will ye, Lem? +'Cause it's the baby's birthday."</p> + +<p>Crabbe flung his squat body about toward the girl. "Shet up about that +brat!" he growled. "I don't care 'bout no birthdays. I'll steal, if the +man has anything and he's alone. I'll kill him like this, if he don't +give up. Do ye want to see how I'd kill him?"</p> + +<p>His eyes blazing with fire, he lifted the steel hook, brandished it in +the air, and brought it down close to the thin, drawn face.</p> + +<p>Scraggy, uttering a cry, sprang to her feet. "Lemmy, Lemmy, I love ye, +and the brat loves ye, too! He'll grin at ye any ole day when ye cluck +at him. And I teached him to say 'Daddy,' to surprise ye on his +birthday. Will ye list to him—will ye?"</p> + +<p>In her eagerness to take his attention from the shrieking yacht, now +close to the scow, Scraggy advanced toward the swaying man. She tried to +lift brave eyes to his face; but they were filled with tears as they met +his drunken, shifting look.</p> + +<p>"Lem, Lemmy dear," she pleaded, "we love ye, both the brat an' me! He +can say 'Daddy'—"</p> + +<p>"Git out of my way, git out! Some'n' be a callin'. Git out, I say!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, not yet—don't go yet, Deary.... Deary! Wait till the kid says +'Daddy.'" She held out the rosy babe, pushing him almost under Lem's +chin. "Look at him, Lemmy! Ain't—he—sweet? He's yer own pretty +boy-brat, and—"</p> + +<p>Her loving plea was cut short; for the man, with a vicious growl, raised +his stumped arm, and the sharp part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> of the hook scraped the skin from +her hollow cheek. It paused an instant on the level of her chin, then +descended into the upturned chest of the child. With a scream, Scraggy +dragged the boy back, and a wail rose from the tiny lips. Crabbe turned, +cursing audibly, and stumbled up the steps to the stern of the boat. The +woman heard him fall in his drunken stupor, and listened again and again +for him to rise. Her face was white and rigid as she stopped the flow of +blood that drenched the infant's coarse frock. Then, realizing the +danger both she and the child were in, since in all likelihood Lem would +sleep but a few minutes, she slid open the window and looked out upon +the dark river in search of help. Splashes of rain pelted her face, +while a gust of wind caused the scow to creak dismally. Scraggy could +see no human being, only the lights of Albany blinking dimly through the +raging storm. Another shrieking whistle warned her that the yacht was +still near. Sailors' voices shouted orders, followed by the chug, chug, +chug of an engine reversed.</p> + +<p>But, in spite of the efforts of the engineer, the wind swung the small +craft sidewise against the scow, and, stupefied, Scraggy found herself +gazing into the face of another woman who was peering from the launch's +window. It was a small, beautiful face shrouded with golden hair, the +large blue eyes widened with terror. For a brief instant the two women +eyed each other. Just then the drunken man above rose and called +Scraggy's name with an oath. She heard him stumbling about, trying to +find the stairs, muttering invectives against herself and her child.</p> + +<p>Scraggy looked down upon the little boy's face, twisted with pain. She +placed her fingers under his chin, closed the tiny jaws, and wrapped the +shawl about the dark head. Without a moment's indecision, she thrust him +through the window-space and said:</p> + +<p>"Be ye a good woman, lady, a good woman?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>The owner of the golden head drew back as if afraid.</p> + +<p>"Ye wouldn't hurt a little 'un—a sick brat? He—he's been hooked. And +it's his birthday. Take him, 'cause he'll die if ye don't!"</p> + +<p>Moved to a sense of pity, the light-haired woman extended two slender +white hands to receive the human bundle, struggling in pain under the +muffling shawl.</p> + +<p>"He's a dyin'!" gasped Scraggy. "His pappy's a hatin' him! Give him warm +milk—"</p> + +<p>Again the yacht's whistle shrieked hoarsely, drowning her last words. As +the stern of the little boat swung round, Scraggy read, stamped in black +letters upon it:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Harold Brimbecomb,<br /> +Tarrytown-on-the-Hudson,<br /> +New York.</span> +</p> + +<p>The yacht shot away up the river, and was lost to the dull eyes that +continued peering for a last glimpse of the phantom-like boat that had +snatched her dying treasure from her. Then, at last, the stricken woman +turned, alone, to meet Lem Crabbe.</p> + +<p>"Where's that brat?" he demanded in a thick voice.</p> + +<p>"I throwed him in the river," declared the mother. "He were dead. Yer +hook killed him, Lem. He's gone!"</p> + +<p>"I'll kill his mammy, too!" muttered Crabbe. "Git ye here—here—down +here—on the floor!"</p> + +<p>His throat worked painfully as he threw the threatening words at her; +they mingled harshly with the snarling of the wind and the sonorous +rumble of the river. So great was Scraggy's fright that she sped round +the wooden table to escape the frenzied man. Taking the steps in two +bounds, she sprang to the deck like a cat, thence to the bank, and sped +away into the rain, with Lem's cries and curses ringing in her ears.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h3> +</div> + +<p>Five years later the <i>Monarch</i> was drawn up to the east bank of the Erie +Canal at Syracuse. It was past midnight, and with the exception of those +on Lem Crabbe's scow the occupants of all the long line of boats were +sleeping. Three men sat silently working in the living-room of the boat. +Lem Crabbe, Silent Lon Cronk, and his brother Eli, Cayuga Lake +squatters, were the workers. At one end of the room hung a broken iron +kettle. Into this Eli Cronk was dropping bits of gold which he cut from +baubles taken from a basket. Crabbe, his short legs drawn up under his +body, held a pair of pliers in his left hand, while caught firmly in the +hook was a child's tiny pin. From this he tore the small jewels, threw +them into a tin cup, and passed the setting on to Eli. The other man, +taciturn and fierce, was flattening out by means of strong pressers +several gold rings and bracelets. The three had worked for many hours +with scarcely a word spoken, with scarcely a recognition of one another.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden Eli Cronk raised his head and said, "Lem, Scraggy was to +Mammy's t'other day."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know ye'd been to Ithacy?" Lem made the statement a question.</p> + +<p>"Yep, I went to see Mammy, and she says as how Scraggy's pappy were +dead, and as how the gal's teched in here." His words were low, and he +raised his forefinger to his head significantly.</p> + +<p>"She ain't allers a stayin' in the squatter country nuther," he pursued. +"She takes that damn ugly cat of her'n and scoots away for a time. And +none of 'em up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> there don't know where she goes. Hones' Injun, don't she +never come about this here scow, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Hones' Injun," replied Lem laconically, without looking up from his +work.</p> + +<p>Presently Eli continued:</p> + +<p>"Mammy says as how the winter's comin', and some 'un ought to look out +for Scraggy. She goes 'bout the lake doin' nothin' but hollerin' like a +hoot-owl, and she don't have enough to eat. But she's been gone now +goin' on two weeks, disappearin' like she's been doin' for a few years +back. Scraggy allers says she has bats in her head."</p> + +<p>"So she has bats," muttered Lem, "and she allers had 'em, and that's why +I made her beat it. I didn't want no woman 'bout me for good and all."</p> + +<p>Lem Crabbe lifted his head and glanced toward the small window +overlooking the dark canal. He had always feared the crazy +squatter-woman whom he had wrecked by his brutality.</p> + +<p>"I says that I don't want no woman round me for all time," he repeated.</p> + +<p>The third man raised his right shoulder at that; but sank into a heap +again, working more assiduously. The slight trembling of his body was +the only evidence he gave that he had heard Crabbe's words. Snip, snip, +snip! went the bits of gold into the kettle, until Eli spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Ye can't tell me that ye ain't goin' never to get married, Lem?"</p> + +<p>Crabbe lifted his hooked arm viciously. "I ain't said nothin' like that. +I says as how Scraggy can keep away from my scow."</p> + +<p>"Don't she never come here no more?" asked Eli in disbelief.</p> + +<p>"Nope, not after them three beatin's I give her. She kept a comin', and +I had to wallop her. I'd do it again if she snoops 'bout here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ye beat her up well, didn't ye, Lem? And she telled Mammy that yer brat +were drowned one night in the river. Were it, Lem?"</p> + +<p>There was an expectant pause between his first and last questions, and +Lem waited almost as long before he grunted:</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Did ye throw it in when ye was drunk?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, he jest fell in—that's all."</p> + +<p>"I guess that last beatin' ye give Scraggy made her batty. Mam says that +she ain't no more sense than her cat."</p> + +<p>"Let her keep to hum then, and she won't get beat. I don't do no runnin' +after her!"</p> + +<p>Again there came a space of time during which Eli and Lem worked in +silence. From far away in the city there came the sound of the fire +whistle, followed by the ringing of bells. But not one of the men ceased +his clipping to satisfy any curiosity he might have had.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Lem Crabbe spoke louder than he had before that evening.</p> + +<p>"Women ain't no good, nohow! They don't love no men, and men don't love +them. What's the good of havin' 'em round to feed and to bother a feller +'bout drinkin' an' things? Less a man sees of 'em the better!"</p> + +<p>The third man, Silent Lon Cronk, sunk lower at his work, even more +fiercely flattening the gemless rings under the pressers. After a few +moments he laid down his tools and began to stretch his long legs, +scraping into a cup the bits of gold from his lap.</p> + +<p>"I've been goin' to ask ye fellers somethin' for a long time. Might as +well now as any other night, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," replied Eli eagerly.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't nothin' that will take any money out yer pockets; 'twill put it +in, more likely. We've been stealin'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> together for how long, Lem? How +long we been pals?"</p> + +<p>"Nigh onto ten years, I'm thinkin'. It were that year that Tilly +Jacobson got burned, weren't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, for ten years," replied Lon, ignoring Lem's last query, "and we've +allers been hones' with each other. I've been hones' with both of ye, +and ye've been hones' with me. Eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Lem, do ye want all the swag in this here room, only a sharin' up with +Eli, without havin' to share and share alike with me?"</p> + +<p>A small jewel bounded from the steel hook, and the pliers fell from +Lem's fingers. Eli dropped back upon his bare feet.</p> + +<p>"What's in the wind?" demanded Lem.</p> + +<p>"Only want ye to help me with a job some night that won't be nothin' to +nuther of ye. But it's all to me. Will ye?"</p> + +<p>Lem wriggled nearer on the floor. "Ye mean stealin', Lon?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"And we ain't to share up with it?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; but ye're to have all that's in this here room. If I tell ye, +will ye help?"</p> + +<p>Crabbe looked at Eli, and a furtive look was shot back. Each was afraid +of the other; but for the big, gloomy man before them they had vast +respect.</p> + +<p>"What be ye goin' to steal, Lon? Tell us before we say we'll help."</p> + +<p>"Kids," muttered Lon moodily.</p> + +<p>"Live kids?" asked Eli, in great surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yep, live ones. What do I want with dead ones? Will ye help?"</p> + +<p>"Can't see no good a swipin' kids. What do ye want with 'em?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll tell ye if ye sit up and listen to me."</p> + +<p>Crabbe dropped his hooked arm and leaned against the wall. Eli lighted a +pipe. A mysterious change had passed over Silent Lon's face. The blue +eyes glowed out from under a massive brow, and a mouth cruel and +vindictive set firm-jawed over decayed teeth.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell ye this much for all time, Lem Crabbe: that ye lied when ye +said that no woman could love no man—ye lied, I say!"</p> + +<p>So fierce had he become that the man with the hook drew back into the +corner and sat staring sullenly. Eli puffed more vigorously on his pipe.</p> + +<p>Lon went on:</p> + +<p>"I had a woman oncet," said he, "and she were every bit mine. And she +were little—like this."</p> + +<p>The big fellow measured off a space with his hand and, straightening +again, stood against the wall of the scow, his head reaching almost to +the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"She were mine, I say, and any man what says she weren't—"</p> + +<p>"Where be she?" interrupted Lem curiously.</p> + +<p>"Dead," replied Lon, "as dead as if she'd never been alive, as dead as +if she'd never laid ag'in' my heart when I wanted her! God! how I wanted +her!"</p> + +<p>"But were she a woman?" asked Lem meditatively.</p> + +<p>"Yep, she were a woman, and I married her square, I did!"</p> + +<p>Lon stirred his dank black hair ferociously, standing it on end with +horny fingers. "I loved her, Lem Crabbe," he continued hoarsely. "I +loved her, that I know! And ye can let that devilish grin ride on yer +lips when I say it and I don't give a hell; but—but if ye say that she +didn't love me, if ye so much as smile when I say that she died a +callin' me, that she went away lovin' me every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> minute, I—I'll rip +offen yer hooked arm and tear out yer in'ards with it!"</p> + +<p>He was leaning against the wall no longer. As he spoke, he came closer +to the crouching canalman, his eyes straining from their sockets in +livid hate. But he halted, and presently began to speak in a voice more +subdued.</p> + +<p>"But she's dead, and I'm goin' to get even. He killed her, he did, +'cause he wouldn't let me see her, and he's got to go the same way I +went! He's got to tear his hair and call God to curse some 'un he won't +know who! He's got to want his kids like as how I've been wantin' +mine—"</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't had no kids, Lon," his brother broke in scoffingly.</p> + +<p>"I would a had if he'd a kept his hands to hum and let me see her. But +she were so little an' young-like an' afeard, and I telled her that +night—I telled her when she whispered that she were a goin' to have a +baby, and said as how she couldn't stand bein' hurt—I says, 'Midge +darlin', do it hurt the grass to grow jest 'cause the winds bend it +double? Do it hurt the little birds to bust out of their shells in the +springtime?' And she knowed what I meant, that not even what she were a +thinkin' of could hurt her if I was there close by."</p> + +<p>His deep voice sank almost to a whisper, a hard, heavy sob closing his +throat. He shook himself fiercely and continued:</p> + +<p>"I took her up close—God! how close I tooked her up! And I telled her +that there wasn't no pain big 'nough to hurt her when I were there—that +even God's finger couldn't tech her afore it went through me. And she +fell to sleep like a bird, a trustin' me, 'cause I said as how there +wasn't goin' to be no hurt. And all the time I knowed I were a lyin'—I +knowed that she'd suffer—"</p> + +<p>His voice trailed into silence, the muscles of his dark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> face twitching +under the gnawing heart-pain; but after a time he conquered his feelings +and went on:</p> + +<p>"Then they comed and took me away for stealin' jest that there week and +sent me up to Auburn prison, and they wouldn't let me stay with her. And +I telled the state's lawyer, Floyd Vandecar, this; I says, 'Vandecar, ye +be a good man, I be a thief, and ye caught me square, ye did. My little +Midge be sick like women is sick sometimes, and she wants me, like every +woman wants her man jest then, an' if ye'll let me see her, to stay a +bit, I'll go up for twice my time.' But he jest laughed till—"</p> + +<p>Lon stopped speaking, and neither listener moved. For a moment he +lowered his head to the small boat window and gazed out into the vapors +hanging low over the opposite bank.</p> + +<p>Turning again, he backed up to the scow's side and proceeded in a lower +voice:</p> + +<p>"When they telled me she were dead, they had to set me in the jacket, +buckled so tight ye could hear my bones crack. The warden ain't got no +blame comin' from me, 'cause I smashed his face afore he'd done tellin' +me. And I felled the keeper like that!" He raised a knotty fist and +thrust it forth. "But it were all 'cause I wanted to be with her so, +'cause I couldn't stand the knowin' that she'd gone a callin' and a +callin' me!"</p> + +<p>He was quiet so long that Eli Cronk drew his sleeve across his face to +break the oppressive stillness. Here, in the dead of night, his somber +brother had been transformed into another creature,—a passionate +creature, responding to the call of a dead woman, a man whose hatred +would carry him to fearful lengths.</p> + +<p>The hoarse voice broke forth again:</p> + +<p>"Midge darlin', dead baby, and all that ye had belongin' to me, I do it +for you! I'll steal his'n, and they'll suffer and suffer—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>He tossed up his great head with a jerk, crushing the sentiment from his +voice.</p> + +<p>"But that don't make no matter now," he muttered. "I'm goin' to take his +kids! He's got two, an' he's prouder'n a turkey cock of 'em. I'll take +'em and I'll make of 'em what I be—I'll make 'em so damn bad that he +won't want 'em no more after I get done with 'em! I'll see what his +woman does when she finds 'em gone! Will ye help, Lem—Eli?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, by God, you bet!" burst from both men at once.</p> + +<p>"I'll take 'em to the squatter country, up to Mammy's," Lon proceeded, +"and, Eli, if ye'll take one of 'em on the train up to McKinneys Point, +I'll take t'other one up the west side of the lake. I'll pay all the +way, Eli; it won't be nothin' out o' yer pocket. We'll tell Mammy the +kids be mine—see? And ye can have all there be in this here room. Be it +a bargain?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," assured Eli, and Lena's consent followed only an instant later. +After that there were no sounds save the snip, snip, snip of the pliers +and the occasional low grating from a jeweled trinket as the steel hook +gouged into the metal.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h3> +</div> + +<p>As Eli Cronk said, Scraggy Peterson left her lonely squatter home two +weeks before with no companion but her vicious black cat. The woman had +intervals of sanity, and during those periods her thoughts turned to a +dark-haired boy, growing up in a luxurious home. In these rare days she +donned her rude clothing, and with the cat perched close to her thin +face walked across the state to Tarrytown. Several times during the five +years after leaving Lem's scow she walked to Tarrytown, returning only +when she had seen the little boy, to take up her squatter life in her +father's hut. So secretive was she that no one had been taken into her +confidence; neither had she interfered with her child in any way. Never +once, hitherto, had her senses left her on those long country marches +toward the east; but often when she turned backward she would utter +forlorn cries, characteristic of her malady.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>At eight o'clock, four hours before Lon Cronk opened his heart to his +companions, Scraggy, footsore and weary, entered Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and seated herself on the damp earth to gather strength. By begging and +stealing she had managed to reach her destination; but now for the first +time on this journey the bats were in her head, sounding the walls of +her poor brain with the ceaseless clatter of their wings. Still the +mother heart called for its own, through the madness—called for one +sight of Lem's child and hers. At length after a long rest she turned +into a broad path which she knew well, and did not halt until she was +staring eager-eyed into the window of Harold Brimbecomb's house which +stood close to the cemetery.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +<img src="images/illus-023th.jpg" +alt="FOR MIDGE'S SAKE" +title="FOR MIDGE'S SAKE" /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-023.jpg">FOR MIDGE'S SAKE</a> +</p> +</div> + +<p>To the left of the Brimbecomb's was the mansion, belonging to the +orphans of Horace Shellington. The young Horace and his sister Ann were +the favorite companions of Everett Brimbecomb, now six years old. He was +a strong, proud, handsome lad. Many conjectures had been made concerning +him by the Tarrytown people, because one day five years before the +delicate, light-haired wife of Mr. Brimbecomb had appeared with a +dark-haired baby boy, announcing that from that day on he would take the +place of her own child who had died a few months before. No person had +told Everett that the millionaire was not his father, nor was he made to +understand that the mother and the home were not his by right of birth. +His bright mind and handsome appearance were the pride of his adopted +mother's life, and his rich father smiled only the more leniently when +the lad showed a rebellious spirit. In the child's dark, limpid eyes +slumbered primeval passions, needing but the dawn of manhood to break +forth, perhaps to destroy the soul beneath their reckless domination.</p> + +<p>Everett was entertaining Ann and Horace Shellington at dinner, and after +the repast the youngsters betook themselves to the large square room +given to the young host's own use. Here were multitudinous playthings +and mechanical toys of all descriptions. For many minutes the children +had been too interested to note that the shadows were grown long and +that a somber gloom had settled down over the cemetery that lay just +beyond the windows.</p> + +<p>Ann Shellington, a delicate little creature of eight, looked up +nervously. "Everett, draw down the curtain," she said. "It looks so +ghostly out there!"</p> + +<p>Ann made a motion toward the window; but the boy did not obey her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Isn't that just like a girl, Horace?" he asked. "I'm not afraid of +ghosts. Dead people can't walk, can they, Horace?"</p> + +<p>The other boy answered "No" thoughtfully, as he started a miniature +train across the length of the room.</p> + +<p>"Then who is it that walks in the night out there?" insisted the girl. +"Lots of town people have seen it. It's a woman with shaggy hair, and +sometimes her eyes turn green."</p> + +<p>"Pouf!" scoffed Everett. "My father says there aren't any such things as +ghosts. I wouldn't be a fraidy cat, Ann."</p> + +<p>"I'm not a fraidy cat," pouted the girl. "I always go upstairs alone, +don't I, Horace?"</p> + +<p>Another answer in the affirmative, and Horace proceeded to roll the +train back over the carpet.</p> + +<p>"If you had any mother," said Everett, "she'd tell you there weren't any +ghosts. My mother tells me that."</p> + +<p>"I haven't any mother," sighed the little girl, listlessly folding her +hands in her lap.</p> + +<p>"Nor any father, either," supplemented Horace, with seemingly no thought +of the magnitude of his statement. "I don't believe in ghosts, anyhow!"</p> + +<p>He glanced up as he spoke, and the train fell with a bang to the floor. +Everett Brimbecomb dropped the toy he held in his hand, and Ann bounded +from her chair. A white face with wide eyes, staring through scraggly +gray hair, appeared at the window. For only an instant it pressed +against the pane, then vanished as if it had never been.</p> + +<p>"It was a woman," gasped Horace, "or was it a—"</p> + +<p>"It wasn't a ghost," interrupted Everett stoutly. "I dare follow it out +there. Look at me!"</p> + +<p>He straightened his shoulders, threw up his dark head, and opened the +door leading to the narrow walk at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> side of the house. In another +moment the watching boy and girl at the window saw him dart into the +hedge and a minute later emerge through it, picking his way among the +ancient graves. Suddenly from behind a tall monument stole a figure, and +as it approached the solemn eyes of the apparition smiled in dull wonder +on Everett Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>Scraggy held out her hands. "Don't run away, little 'un," she whispered. +"There be bats flyin' about in my head; but my cat won't hurt ye."</p> + +<p>She passed one arm about the snarling creature perched on her shoulder; +but the cat with a hiss only raised himself higher.</p> + +<p>"Don't spit at the pretty boy, Kitty—pretty pussy, black pussy!" +wheedled the woman. "He won't hurt ye, childy. Come nearer, will ye? +This be a good cat."</p> + +<p>"Are you a ghost?" demanded Everett, edging into the light.</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't no ghost. I love ye, pretty boy. Ye won't tell no one +that I speak to ye, will ye? I ain't doin' no hurt."</p> + +<p>"What do you carry that cat for, and what's your name?" demanded Everett +insolently; for the proud young eyes had noticed the disheveled figure. +"If any one of our men see you about here, they'll shoot you. I'd shoot +you and your cat, too, if I had my father's gun!"</p> + +<p>Scraggy smiled wanly. "Screech Owl's my name," said she. "They call me +that 'cause I'm batty. But ye wouldn't hurt me, little 'un, 'cause I +love ye. How old be ye?"</p> + +<p>"Six years old; but it isn't any of your business. Crazy people ought to +be locked up. You'd better go away from here. My father owns that house, +and—don't you follow me through the hedge. Get back, I say! If I call +Malcolm—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everett drew back through the box-hedge, and the boy and the girl at the +window saw the woman squeeze in after him. In another moment the young +heir to the Brimbecomb fortune bounded through the doorway. His face was +white; his eyes were filled with fear.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that old woman?" he gasped. "She tried to kiss me, and I +punched her in the face, and her cat did this to my arm."</p> + +<p>He pulled up his sleeve, and displayed a long scratch from wrist to +elbow.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure it wasn't a ghost, Everett?" asked Ann, shivering.</p> + +<p>"Of course, it wasn't," boasted Everett. "It was only a horrid woman +with a cat—that's all."</p> + +<p>As he closed the door vehemently, there drifted to the children from the +marble monument and waving trees the faint wail of a night-owl.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h3> +</div> + +<p>On a fashionable street in Syracuse, Floyd Vandecar, district attorney +of the city, lived in a new house, built to please the delicate fancies +of his pretty wife. His career had been comet-like. Graduated from +Cornell University and starting in law with his father, he had succeeded +to a large practice when but a very young man. Then came the call for +his force and strength to be used for the state, and, with a gratified +smile, he accepted the votes of his constituents to act as district +attorney. Then, as Lon Cronk had told, it came within the duty of the +young lawyer to convict the thief of grand larceny committed three years +before. After that Floyd married the lovely Fledra Martindale, and a +year later his twin children were born—a sturdy boy and a tiny girl. +The children were nearly a year old when Fledra Vandecar whispered +another secret to her husband, and Vandecar, lover-like, had gathered +his darling into his arms, as if to hold her against any harm that might +come to her. This happened on the morning following the night when +Silent Lon Cronk told the dark tale of suffering to his pals.</p> + +<p>Just how Lon Cronk came to know the inner workings of the Vandecar +household he never confided; but, biding his time, waited for the hour +to come when the blow would be harder to bear. At last it fell, fell not +only upon the brilliant district attorney, but upon his lovely wife and +his hapless children.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>One blustering night in March, Lem Crabbe's scow was tied at the locks +near Syracuse. The day for the fulfil<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>ment of Lon Cronk's revenge had +arrived. That afternoon Lon had come from Ithaca with his brother Eli to +meet Lem.</p> + +<p>"Be ye goin' to steal the kids tonight, Lon?" asked Lem.</p> + +<p>"Yep, tonight."</p> + +<p>"Why don't ye take just one? It'd make 'em sit up and note a bit to +crib, say, the boy."</p> + +<p>"We'll take 'em both," replied Lon decisively.</p> + +<p>"And if we get caught?" stammered Crabbe.</p> + +<p>"We don't get caught," assured Lon darkly, "'cause tonight's the time +for 'em all to be busy 'bout the Vandecar house. I know, I do—no matter +how!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Wee Mildred Vandecar was ushered into the world during one of the worst +March storms ever known in the western part of New York. As she lay +snuggled in laces in her father's home, a tall man walked down a lane, +four miles from Ithaca, with her sleeping sister in his arms. The dark +baby head was covered by a ragged shawl; two tender, naked feet +protruded from under a coarse skirt. Lon Cronk struggled on against the +wind to a hut in the rocks, opened the door, and stepped inside.</p> + +<p>A woman, not unlike him, in spite of added years, rose as he entered.</p> + +<p>"So ye comed, Lon," she said.</p> + +<p>"Course! Did Eli get here with the other brat?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, there 'tis. And he's been squalling for the whole night and day. +He wanted the other little 'un, I'm a thinkin'."</p> + +<p>"Yep," answered Lon somberly, "and he wants his mammy, too. But, as I +telled ye before, she's dead."</p> + +<p>"Be ye reely goin' to live to hum, Lon?" queried the old woman eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yep. And ye'll get all ye want to eat if ye'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> take care of the kids. +Be ye glad to have me stay to hum?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I'm glad," replied the mother, with a pathetic droop to her +shriveled lips.</p> + +<p>Just then the child on the cot turned over and sat up. The small, +tear-stained face was creased with dirt and molasses. Bits of bread +stuck between fingers that gouged into a pair of gray eyes flecked with +brown. Noting strangers, he opened his lips and emitted a forlorn wail. +The other baby, in the man's arms, lifted a bonny dark head with a jerk.</p> + +<p>For several seconds the babies eyed each other. Two pairs of brown-shot +eyes, alike in color and size, brightened, and a wide smile spread the +four rosy lips.</p> + +<p>"Flea! Flea!" murmured the baby on the bed; and "Flukey!" gurgled the +infant in Lon's arms.</p> + +<p>"There!" cried the old woman. "That's what he's been a cryin' for. Set +him on the bed, Lon, for God's sake, so he'll keep his clack shet for a +minute!"</p> + +<p>The baby called "Flea" leaned over and rubbed the face of the baby +called "Flukey," who touched the dimpled little hand with his. Then they +both lay down on a rough, low cot in the squatter's home and forgot +their baby troubles in sleep.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The kidnapping of the twins was discovered just after Fledra Vandecar +had presented her husband with another daughter, a tiny human flower +which the strong man took in his hands with tender thanksgiving. The +three days that followed the disappearance of his children were eternal +for Floyd Vandecar. The entire police force of the country had been +called upon to help bring to him his lost treasures. So necessary was it +for him to find them that he neither slept nor worked. He had had to +tell the mother falsehood after falsehood to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> keep her content. The +children had suddenly become infected with a contagious disease, and the +doctor had said that the new baby must not be exposed in any +circumstances. After three long weeks of torture it devolved upon him to +tell his wife that her children were gone.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart," he whispered, sitting beside her and taking her hands in +his, "do you love and trust me very much indeed?"</p> + +<p>The wondering blue eyes smiled upon him, and small fingers threaded his +black hair.</p> + +<p>"I not only love you, Dear, but trust you always. I don't want to seem +obstinate and impatient, Floyd, but if I could see my babies just from +the door I should be happy. And it won't hurt me. I haven't seen them in +three whole weeks."</p> + +<p>During the long, agonizing silence the young mother gathered something +of his distress.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, look at me!"</p> + +<p>Slowly he lifted his white face and looked straight at her.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, Floyd, you've tears in your eyes! I didn't mean to hurt you—"</p> + +<p>She stopped speaking, and the pain in his heart reached hers.</p> + +<p>"Floyd," she cried again, "is there anything the matter with—with—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Fledra darling, little wife, will you be brave for my sake and +for the sake of—her?"</p> + +<p>His eyes were still full of tears as he touched the bundle on the bed.</p> + +<p>"But my babies!" moaned Mrs. Vandecar. "If there isn't anything the +matter with my babies—"</p> + +<p>"I want to speak to you about our children, Dear."</p> + +<p>"They are dead?" Mrs. Vandecar asked dully. "My babies are dead?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>At first Vandecar could scarcely trust himself to speak; but, curbing +his emotion with an effort, he answered, "No, no; but gone for a little +while."</p> + +<p>His arms were tightly about her, and time and again he pressed his lips +to hers.</p> + +<p>"Gone where?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, you must not look that way! Listen to me, and I will tell you +about it. I promise, Fledra. Don't, don't! You must not shake so! +Please! Then you do not trust me to bring them back to you?"</p> + +<p>His last appeal brought the tense arms more limply about his neck. She +had believed him absolutely when he said they were not dead.</p> + +<p>"Am I to have them tonight?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear love."</p> + +<p>"Where are they gone?"</p> + +<p>"The cradles were empty after little Mildred—"</p> + +<p>"They have been gone for—for three weeks!" she wailed. "Floyd, who took +them? Were they kidnapped? Have you had any letters asking for money?"</p> + +<p>Vandecar shook his head.</p> + +<p>"And no one has come to the house? Tell me, Floyd! I can't bear it! +Someone has taken my babies!"</p> + +<p>She raised herself on her arm wildly, fever brightening the anguished +eyes. The husband with bowed head remained praying for them and +especially for her. Another cry from the wounded mother aroused him.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, they have been taken for something besides money. Tell me, +Dearest! Don't you know?"</p> + +<p>Faithfully he told her that he could think of no human being who would +deal him a blow like this; that he had thought his life over from +beginning to end, but no new truth came out of his mental search.</p> + +<p>"Then they want money! Oh, you will pay anything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> they demand! Floyd, +will they torture my baby boy and girl? Will they?"</p> + +<p>"Fledra, beloved heart," groaned Vandecar, "please don't struggle like +that! You'll be very ill. I promised you that you should have them back +some day soon, very soon. Fledra, sweet wife, you still have the baby +and me—and Katherine."</p> + +<p>"I want my little children! I want my boy and girl!" gasped Mrs. +Vandecar. "I will have them, I will! No, I sha'n't lie down till I have +them! I'm going to find them if you won't! I will not listen to you, +Floyd, I won't ... I won't—"</p> + +<p>Each time the words came forth they were followed by a moan which tore +the man's heart as it had never been torn before. For a single instant +he drew himself together, forced down the terrible emotion in his +breast, and leaned over his wife.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, Fledra, I command you to obey me! Lie down! I am going to bring +you back your babies."</p> + +<p>He had never spoken to her in such a tone of authority. She sank under +it with parted lips and swift-coming breath.</p> + +<p>"But I want my babies, Floyd!" she whispered. "How can I think of them +out in the cold and the storm, perhaps being tortured—"</p> + +<p>"Fledra, sweet love, precious little mother, am I not their father, and +don't you trust me? Wait—wait a moment!"</p> + +<p>He moved the babe from her mother's side, called the nurse, and in a low +tone told her to keep the child until he should send for her. Then he +slipped his arms about the wailing mother, lay down beside her, and drew +her to his breast.</p> + +<p>During the next few hours of darkness he watched her—watched her until +the night gave way to a shadowy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> dawn. And as she slept he still held +her, praying tensely that he might be given power to keep his promise to +her. When she started up he gathered her closer and hushed her to sleep +as a mother does a suffering child. How gladly he would have borne her +larger share, yet more gladly would he have convinced himself that by +morning the children would be again under his roof!</p> + +<p>At last Mrs. Vandecar awoke, calmer and with ready faith to acknowledge +that she believed he would accomplish his task. At her own request, he +brought their tiny baby.</p> + +<p>"Will you see Katherine, too, Fledra," ventured Vandecar. "The poor +child hasn't slept much, and she can't be persuaded to eat."</p> + +<p>Misery, deep and pathetic, flashed in the blue eyes Mrs. Vandecar raised +to his. At length she faltered:</p> + +<p>"Floyd, I've never loved Katherine as I should. I'm sorry.... Yes, yes, +I will see her—and you will bring me my babies!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar stooped and kissed her; then, with a tightening of his throat, +went out.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later a small girl followed Mr. Vandecar in and stood +beside the bed. Fledra Vandecar took the little girl-face in her hands +and kissed it.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The years went on, with the gap still left wide in the Vandecar +household. As month after month passed and nothing was heard of her +children, Mrs. Vandecar gradually gave up hope. Her despair left a +shadow of pathetic pleading in her blue eyes. This constant silent +appeal whitened Floyd Vandecar's hair and caused him to apply himself to +business more assiduously than ever. Never once in all those bitter +years did he connect Lon Cronk with the disappearance of his babies.</p> + +<p>Meantime two sturdy children were growing to girlhood and boyhood in the +Cronk hut on Cayuga Lake. So safely had the secret of the kidnapping +been kept from Granny Cronk and the other squatters in the settlement +that the twins were regarded by all as the son and daughter of the +squatter.</p> + +<p>The year following Flea's and Flukey's fourteenth birthday the boy was +taken into his foster-father's trade of thieving. At first he was +allowed only to enter the houses and deftly unbar the door for an easier +egress for Eli Cronk and Lem Crabbe. Later he was commanded to snatch up +anything of value he could. Many were the times he wept in boyish +bitterness against the commands of Lon, revealing his sorrows to Flea, +who listened moodily.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't steal nothin' if I was you," she said again and again. But +Flukey one day silenced this reiteration by confiding to her that Pappy +Lon had threatened to turn her to his trade if he rebelled.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>One afternoon in late September, Flea left the hut and went out to the +lake. Flukey, Lon Cronk, and Lem Crabbe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> had gone to Ithaca to buy +groceries, and it was time for them to return. A chill wind swung the +girl's skirt about her knees, and for some minutes she squatted on the +beach, keeping her eyes upon the lighthouse in the distance.</p> + +<p>For the last year Flea had been rapidly growing into a woman. Granny +Cronk had proudly noted that the fair face had grown lovelier, that the +ebony curls fell about her shoulders. The one dream the girl had had was +a dream of long hair, ankle dresses, and girl's shoes. Until that year +Lon had insisted that her hair be kept short, and had himself trimmed +the ebony curls every month. Now, in the damp air, they twisted and +turned in the wildest profusion. The coming of womanhood had thrown new +light into the clear-gray, brown-flecked eyes. At this moment she was +wondering what she and her brother would do if Granny Cronk died. She +shivered as she thought of life in the hut without the protecting old +woman.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, from above the Lehigh Valley tracks, she heard the sound of +horses' hoofs. Her attention taken from her meditations, she lifted her +pensive gaze from the lake, wheeled about, and looked for the horseman. +Flea knew that it was not a summer cottager; for many days before the +last of them had taken his family to Ithaca. Perhaps some chance +wayfarer had followed the wrong road. Just below the tracks she caught a +glimpse of a black horse, and as it came nearer Flea noted the rider, a +young man whose kindly dark eyes and white teeth dazzled her. His +straight legs were incased in yellow boots, his fine form in a tightly +fitting riding-coat. Flea had never seen just such a man, not even in +the infrequent visits she made to Ithaca. Something in his smile, as he +drew up his steed and looked down upon her, affected her with a curious +thrill.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Little girl, will you tell me if I am on the right road to Glenwood?"</p> + +<p>Flea's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. His voice, cultivated and +deep, made her forget for a moment the question he had asked her. Then +she remembered; but instinctively she did not reply in her usual high +squatter tones.</p> + +<p>"Nope, ye got to go back, and turn to the right at the top of the hill. +Ye can't go round the shore from here; the water's too high."</p> + +<p>This impulsive desire to choose her words and to modulate her voice came +from a sudden realization that there lived another class of people +outside the squatter settlement of whom she knew little.</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," replied the questioner. "Now I understand that if +I ride to the top of the hill and turn to the right, I'll reach +Glenwood?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," answered Flea.</p> + +<p>Her embarrassment caused her lips to close over the one word. +Wonderingly she watched the man ride away until the sight of his dark +horse was lost in the trees above the tracks.</p> + +<p>"It were a prince," she stammered in a low tone, "a real live prince!"</p> + +<p>Flea contemplated the darkening hills with moody eyes. She counted +slowly one by one the towers of the university buildings. This she did +merely from habit; for the expression remained unchanged on her +melancholy face. At length the gray eyes dropped to the water and fixed +their gaze upon a fishing boat turning toward the shore. A few moments +before it had been but a black speck near the lighthouse; but as it came +nearer Flea distinctly saw the two men and the boy in it. Upon the bow +of the boat was perched Snatchet, a yellow terrier, his short ears +perked up with happiness at the prospect of sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>per. When the craft +touched shore the girl rose and ran toward it. Almost in fear, she +searched the face of the youth at the rudder with eyes so like his own +that they seemed rather a reflection than another pair. She said no word +until she took her position beside the boy on the shore, slipping her +hand into his as she walked by his side toward the hut.</p> + +<p>"Be ye back for the night, Flukey?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"Where ye goin' after supper?"</p> + +<p>"To Ithaca."</p> + +<p>"Air ye leg a hurtin' ye much?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Granny Cronk says as how yer pains be rheumatiz. If ye stay in out of +the night air, ye'll get well."</p> + +<p>"Pappy Lon won't let me," sighed Flukey.</p> + +<p>He sank down on the cabin threshold, and as he spoke drew a blue trouser +leg slowly up.</p> + +<p>"Damn knee!" he groaned. "It gets so twisted! And sometimes I can't +walk."</p> + +<p>"Be ye goin' to steal again tonight?" asked the girl, bending toward +him.</p> + +<p>"Yep, with Pappy Lon and Lem. I hate it all, I do!" he cried +impetuously.</p> + +<p>"What makes ye go? Take a lickin', an' I bet ye'll stay to hum. I +would!"</p> + +<p>With a spiteful shake of the black curls, she rubbed a bare toe over +Snatchet's yellow back.</p> + +<p>"I wish I was a boy," she went on. "While I hate stealin', I'd do it to +have ye stay to hum, Flukey; then ye'd get well. And—"</p> + +<p>She broke off abruptly and lowered her eyes to the shore, where Lem and +Lon were in earnest conversation. At the same moment Lon looked up and +shouted a command:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Flea gal, Flea gal, come down here to me!"</p> + +<p>Flea dropped the hand of her brother, moved directly to the water's +edge, and stood quietly until Lon chose to speak.</p> + +<p>Lem Crabbe's eyes devoured the slight young figure, his smile contorting +the corners of his whiskered mouth. One hand rested on the bow of the +boat, while the long, rusty hook, sharp at the point and thick ironed at +the top, protruded from the other coat-sleeve.</p> + +<p>At last Lon Cronk began to speak deliberately, and the girl gave him her +attention.</p> + +<p>"Flea, ye be a woman now, ain't ye?" he said "Ye be fifteen this comin' +Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Yep, Pappy Lon."</p> + +<p>"And yer brother be fifteen on the same day, you bein' twins."</p> + +<p>"Yep, Pappy Lon."</p> + +<p>"Yer brother's been taken into my trade," proceeded the squatter, "and +it ain't the wust in the world—that of takin' what ye want from them +that have plenty. It's time for ye to be doin' somethin', too. Ye'll go +to Lem's Scow, Flea."</p> + +<p>"To Lem's scow?" exclaimed Flea. "That ain't no place for a kid, and +nobody ain't a wantin' me, nuther! I know there ain't!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't there nobody a wantin' her in yer scow, Lem Crabbe?" grinned Lon.</p> + +<p>"Ye bet there be!" answered Lem, with an evil leer.</p> + +<p>Flukey, who had approached the group, placed himself closer to his +sister. "Who—who be wantin' Flea, Lem Crabbe?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"It's me, it's me!" replied Lem, wheeling savagely about.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +<img src="images/illus-040th.jpg" +alt="LET ME—STAY A BIT—I'LL GO UP FOR TWICE MY TIME." +title="LET ME—STAY A BIT—I'LL GO UP FOR TWICE MY TIME." /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-040.jpg"> +LET ME—STAY A BIT—I'LL GO UP FOR TWICE MY TIME.</a> +</p> +</div> + +<p>For a short space of time nothing but the splash of the waves could be +heard as they rolled white on the shore. A change passed over Flea, and +she clutched fiercely at her brother's fingers. It was as if she had +said, "Help me, Flukey, if ye can!" But she did not speak the words; +only stared at the hook-armed man with strained eyes.</p> + +<p>"Flea ain't no notion of goin' away right yet, Pappy Lon," burst out +Flukey, catching his breath after the shock. "She's perferrin' to stay +with us; and I'll work for her keep, if ye let her stay."</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't no notion o' marryin'," repeated Flea, encouraged by her +brother's insistence.</p> + +<p>"Who said as how Lem wanted ye to marry him?" sneered Lon, eying her +from head to foot. "Yer notions one way or nother ain't nothin' to me, +my gal. Ye'll go with the man I choose for ye, and that's all there be +to it!"</p> + +<p>Dazed by his first words, she whispered, "I hate Lem Crabbe!"</p> + +<p>As if by its own volition, the hook rose threateningly to within a short +distance of the fair, appealing face. But it dropped again, as Lon +repeated:</p> + +<p>"That ain't nothin' to do with the thing, nuther, Flea. A man ain't a +seekin' for a lovin' woman. He wants her to take care of his shanty and +what he gets by hard work, he does, and he gives her victuals and drink +for the doin' of it. That's enough for you, or for any gal what's a +squatter."</p> + +<p>So well did Flea realize the powerlessness of the rigid boy at her side +to help her, that she dropped his hand and alone went nearer to the +thief.</p> + +<p>"Can't I stay with you and with Granny Cronk for another year? Can't I +stay? Can't I, Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, I wouldn't keep ye in the shanty if ye had money for yer keeps. +Ye go on a Saturday to Lem's boat to be his woman, ye see?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>The iron hook by this time was hanging loosely by Lem's side; but a +cruel expression had gathered on the sullen face. A frown drew the +crafty eyes together, bespeaking wrath at the girl's words.</p> + +<p>That he would have her at the bidding of her father, Lem never doubted. +During the last three years he had been resolved to take her home in due +time to be his woman. To subdue the proud young spirit, to make her the +mother of children like himself,—the boys destined to be thieves, and +the girls squatter women,—was his one ambition. That he was old enough +to be her father made no difference to him.</p> + +<p>He was watching her as she stood in the darkening twilight, gloating +over the thought that his vicious dreams were so near their fulfilment.</p> + +<p>Flea was looking into the eyes of her father, and he looked back at her +with an impudent smile.</p> + +<p>"Ye don't like the thought of this comin' Saturday, Flea—eh?" he asked +slowly. "But, as I said before, a gal hain't nothin' to do with the +notions of her daddy. And Granny Cronk'll give ye a pork cake to take to +Lem's, and he'll let ye eat it all to yerself. Eh, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," grunted Lem. "She eats the pork cake if she will; but after +that—"</p> + +<p>Suddenly Lon silenced Lem's words with a wag of his head toward the +girl. "Flea," he said, "I telled Lem as how ye'd kiss him tonight."</p> + +<p>The words stunned the girl, they were so unexpected, so terrible. She +turned her eyes upon Lem and fearfully studied his face. He was gazing +back, his open lips showing his discolored, broken teeth. The coarse, +red hair sprinkled with gray gave a fierce aspect to his whole +appearance, and from the emotion through which he was passing the +muscles under his chin worked to and fro. With a grin he advanced toward +her. Flea fell back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> against Flukey. The boy steadied the trembling, +slender body.</p> + +<p>"I ain't a goin' to kiss ye," she muttered. "I hate yer kisses! I hate +'em!"</p> + +<p>"Ye'll kiss him, jest the same!" ordered Lon.</p> + +<p>Closer and closer Lem came toward the girl; then suddenly he sprang at +her like a tiger, crushing the slim figure against his breast. For a +moment Flea was encircled by his left arm. Then she turned fiercely to +the ugly face so close to hers, and in another instant had bitten it +through the cheek. He dropped her with a yelling oath, and Flea sprang +back, turning flashing eyes upon Lon.</p> + +<p>"That's how I kiss him afore I go to him," she screamed, "and worser and +worser after he takes me!"</p> + +<p>Lon laughed wickedly. He had not expected such a display of spirit. "I +guess ye'll have to wait, Lem," he said; "fer—"</p> + +<p>Flea did not hear the rest of the sentence; for she and Flukey were +hurrying toward the hut.</p> + +<p>Lem stood wiping the blood from his face. "The cussed spit-cat!" he +hissed. "When I take her in hand—"</p> + +<p>"When ye take her in hand, Lem," interrupted Lon darkly, "ye can do what +ye like. Break her spirit! Break her neck, if ye want to! I don't care."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The children found Granny Cronk with bent shoulders and palsied hands +toiling over the supper. About the withered neck hung a red +handkerchief, and on top of the few gray whisps of hair rested a +spotless cap. She grunted as the children entered the room like a +whirlwind and climbed the long ladder to the loft, where for some time +the low voice of Flukey and the sobs of Flea could be heard in the +kitchen below.</p> + +<p>It was not until her son had entered and hung his cap upon the peg that +the old woman ventured to speak.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Be Flea in a tantrum, Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, ye bet she be!"</p> + +<p>"Have ye been a beatin' her?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, I never teched her," replied the squatter; "but I will beat her, +if she don't do what I tell her. No matter how she kicks ag'in' my +notions, she has to do 'em, Granny!"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I know that; but I asked ye what she was a blubberin' about."</p> + +<p>"'Cause I says as how on Saturday she's got to go and be Lem's +woman—that's what I says."</p> + +<p>"Lem's woman! Do ye mean that she's got to go away?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, with Lem Crabbe," replied Cronk; "he's to be her man on her next +birthday. I bet he brings the kid to his likin'!"</p> + +<p>"Lem's a bad man, Lon," replied Mrs. Cronk, "and ye be one, too, if ye +be my own son, and Flea's your own flesh and blood, and I like her. It +would be a good thing if ye let her stay to hum while I be a livin'; and +I mean what I say, and I'm yer mammy, and that's the truth!"</p> + +<p>"Mammy or no mammy," answered Cronk sullenly, "Flea goes to Lem, and ye +makes her a pork cake, which she can hog down at one gulp, for all I +care—the damn brat! I say it, and Lem says it. He'll dry her tears +after she's left hum, I'm a guessin'!"</p> + +<p>Seeing the futility of arguing the question, Mrs. Cronk placed the fish +and beans on his plate and, with a shrill cry to Flea and Flukey, sat +down to eat.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>As he stumbled along the rocks to the scow, Lem Crabbe uttered dark +threats against the girl who had bitten him. Her temper and the +spontaneous deed that had marked his face did not lessen his longing to +call her his woman, nor did it take the fever of desire from his veins. +It had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> strengthened his passion to such a degree that he now determined +to permit nothing to interfere with his plans. For at least three years +he had lived on the promise of Lon Cronk that he should have the girl +for weal or woe. Six months before he had offered Lon anything within +his power to set the day of Flea's coming to him nearer; but the thief +had shaken his head with the thought that Flea as a girl would not +suffer through indignities as she would as a woman. He felt no remorse +for the other girl that he had ruined so many years back; but he kept +out of the way of the crazy woman who sometimes crossed his path.</p> + +<p>Tonight Lem entered the living-room of his boat, muttering an oath that +ended in a groan, dropped the basket on the table, and struck a match. +He was touching it to the candle, when a sound in the corner startled +him. He turned as he finished his task and saw the brilliant eyes of +Scraggy's cat as the animal sat perched on the woman's shoulder. The +presence of Screech Owl surprised him so that he did not move for a +moment, and she spoke first:</p> + +<p>"I hain't seed ye in such a long time, Lem, that I thought I'd come and +let ye see my new kitty. He ain't but two years old."</p> + +<p>Lem took a long breath. At first he thought that this must be Scraggy's +wraith come to haunt him after some horrible lonely death. He had far +rather deal with a living Scraggy than a dead one, and at once recovered +his composure.</p> + +<p>"I hain't sent for ye, have I?" he asked, hanging up his coat. "And if I +ain't sent for ye, then ye needn't be sneakin' round."</p> + +<p>"I've a lot to say to ye," sighed Scraggy mournfully, "and I thought as +how the night was better than the day. It's dark now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then ye'd better trot hum," put in Lem, "if ye don't want another +beatin'."</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' to get no beatin' tonight," assured the woman, throwing +one arm over the bristling cat, "'cause I comed to tell ye somethin'."</p> + +<p>Lem turned on her sharply; for Scraggy seemed to speak sanely.</p> + +<p>"The bats be gone from my brain, Lem, and I want to tell ye somethin' +'bout Flea—Flea Cronk—and to tell ye that I be hungry."</p> + +<p>"What about Flea?" snapped Lem. "Ye're bein' hungry ain't nothin' to do +with me. If ye got somethin' to tell me that I want to hear, lip it out, +and then scoot; for I ain't no time to bother with ye. My time's +precious, Scraggy—see?"</p> + +<p>"Yep; but I ain't goin' to tell ye nothin' till ye give me somethin' to +eat."</p> + +<p>She cast ravenous eyes on the small bundles Lem was placing on the +table.</p> + +<p>"I'll give ye a piece of bread an' 'lasses," was the grudging answer. +"And mind ye, I wouldn't do that but I want to hear what ye say 'bout +Flea."</p> + +<p>Avidly the woman ate the thick slice of bread and treacle, offering a +bit now and then to the cat. When she had devoured it Lem spoke:</p> + +<p>"Now wash it down with this here water and tell me yer tale—and if ye +lie to me I'll kill ye!"</p> + +<p>"I ain't a goin' to lie to ye—I'll tell ye the truth, I will!"</p> + +<p>They both drank, the man from the bottle, the woman from a tin cup. +Presently she asked:</p> + +<p>"Be ye goin' to marry Flea Cronk?"</p> + +<p>"Who's been carryin' tales to ye?" shouted Lem, bounding from his chair. +"Ye better be a mindin' yer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> own affairs, or ye'll be havin' nothin' but +bats in yer head till ye die. Scoot for hum! Ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yep; but I ain't goin' jest yet. Ye want to hear 'bout Flea, don't ye?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Then set down an' I'll tell ye."</p> + +<p>Lem, growling impatience, seated himself.</p> + +<p>"Flea Cronk ain't for you, Lem!"</p> + +<p>"Who said as how she ain't?" demanded Lem, starting up. The cat spat +viciously, startled by the sudden movement. "I wish ye'd left that damn +cat to hum! I hain't no notion to be bit by no cat."</p> + +<p>"Kitty won't bite ye if ye let me alone—will ye, Kitty? I ain't never +afeard of nothin' when I got him with me—be I, Kitty, pretty pussy?"</p> + +<p>"Stop a cooin', ye bughouse woman," snarled Crabbe, "and tell me what ye +got to!"</p> + +<p>"I said Flea wasn't for you."</p> + +<p>"Ye lie!"</p> + +<p>He made a desperate move toward her; but the cat rose threateningly, its +hair standing on end in a mound upon the humped back. Lem fell away with +an oath, and Scraggy, smiling wanly, petted the vicious brute.</p> + +<p>"I said ye was to keep away, Lem. Wait till I get done. Flea's got to be +some 'un else's, not yers."</p> + +<p>"Who's?" Lem's voice rose; but he did not advance toward her.</p> + +<p>"I dunno; but I seed him. He rides a black horse, and has a fine, big +body and wears yeller boots. This afternoon when the day was darkenin' I +saw him from the railroad bed, and I saw Flea's spirit a travelin' with +him. I know that ye cared for her this long time back; but ye can't have +her."</p> + +<p>"Who be the feller?" demanded Lem, frowning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I said I didn't know, and I don't."</p> + +<p>"Were Flea with him?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; not in her body, but jest in her spirit."</p> + +<p>"Rats! Scoot along with ye, and take yer cat and get out!"</p> + +<p>Scraggy had not noticed the blood oozing from Lem's, cheek until she had +received her dismissal. She passed a long, red, bare arm about the +animal and asked:</p> + +<p>"Who bit yer cheek, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Who says it were bit?"</p> + +<p>"I say it. I see white teeth a goin' in it. And I see red lips ag'in' it +with deadly hate."</p> + +<p>Lem glanced forbiddingly at the woman. "The bats be a comin' again," he +muttered, "and there ain't no tellin' what she'll do. If it wasn't for +that blasted cat, I'd chuck her in the lake!"</p> + +<p>But he dared not carry out his threat; for Scraggy was muttering to +herself, the cat rebuffing her rough handling.</p> + +<p>In another minute she rose and made toward the steps. Her eyes fell upon +Lem, and sanity flashed back into them.</p> + +<p>"I gived the boy to the woman—with golden hair," she stammered, as if +some power were forcing the words from her. "Ye would have killed him. +Yer kid be a livin', Lem!"</p> + +<p>Truth rang in her statement, and the man got to his feet abruptly. He +had almost forgotten the black-haired little boy. Only when Scraggy's +name was mentioned to him did he remember. But the woman's words awoke a +new feeling in his heart, and mentally he counted back the years to the +date of his son's birth. Scraggy was still looking at him in +bewilderment, scarcely realizing that her story had been told to the +enemy of her child. She bat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>tled with a desire to blurt out the whole +truth; but the man's next words silenced her.</p> + +<p>"Who be the golden-haired woman, Scraggy?" he wheedled.</p> + +<p>"What woman—what golden-haired woman?"</p> + +<p>"The woman who has our brat."</p> + +<p>Like lightning a sudden joy filled Scraggy's heart. Her benumbed love +for Lem Crabbe grew mighty in a moment and rushed over her. His words +were softly spoken with an old-time inflection. She sank down with a +cry. She was so near him that the cat rose and spat venomously. Lem's +curses brought Scraggy out of her dreams.</p> + +<p>"Chuck that damn cat to the bank," ordered Lem, "if ye want to stay with +me! Do ye hear? Chuck him out!"</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't a goin' to! I'm goin' hum."</p> + +<p>"Not till ye tell me where the boy is. Didn't ye throw him in the +river?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"What did ye do with him?"</p> + +<p>"Gived him away."</p> + +<p>"Ye lie! That winder was open, and the river was dark as hell. Ye +throwed him in, I tell ye!"</p> + +<p>"Nope; I gived him to a woman—"</p> + +<p>She stopped and edged toward the stairs, all her old fear of him +returning. Reaching the short flight, she bounded up, the cat clinging +to her sleeve. Lem did not follow; for the crazy woman had frightened +him. He stood with hushed breath, holding grimly to the wooden table. A +voice from the deck of the scow came down to him.</p> + +<p>"I gived him to a rich woman on a yacht. He's rich with mints of money. +Yer kid's a gentleman, Lem Crabbe!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>He sprang after her to the deck; but nothing greeted him save the cry of +an owl from the ragged rocks and the glistening green of the cat's eyes +as Scraggy hurried away.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h3> +</div> + +<p>After eating his supper, Lon, sullen and moody, looked out upon the +lake, reviewing in his mind the terrible revenge he was soon to +complete. He took his pipe slowly from his pocket and filled it with +coarse tobacco. Soon gray rings lifted themselves to the ceiling and +faded into the rafters. As the smoke curled upward, his mind became busy +with the past, and so vivid was his imagination that outlined in the +smoke rings that floated about him was a girlish face—a face pale and +wan, but a loving, sweet one to him. He could see the fair curls which +clung close to the head; the eyes, serious but kind, seemed to strike +his memory in unforgotten glances. To another than himself the +smoke-formed face would have been plain, perhaps ugly, the weakness of +her race showing in every feature; but not to him. So intent was he with +these thoughts that the present dissolved completely into the past, and +beside him stood a small, fond woman. In his imagination she had risen +from that grave which he had never been able to find in the Potter's +Field. The personality of his dead wife called upon his senses and made +itself as necessary to him then as in the moment of his first rapture +when she had placed her womanly might upon his soul.</p> + +<p>His revenge upon Floyd Vandecar would be finished when the gray-eyed +Flea, so like her own father, went away with the one-armed man, to eke +out her destiny amid the squalor of the thief's home.</p> + +<p>For months he had been enthralled with the satisfaction of the last act +in the one terrible drama of his life; for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> it had played with his rude +fancy as a tigress does with her prey, inflaming his hatred and keeping +alive his desire for retaliation. Flukey was a good thief, although +obeying him at the end of the lash, and Flea would receive her portion +of hate's penalty on her fifteenth birthday.</p> + +<p>Cronk did not heed the pitter-patter of his mother's feet as she cleared +the table, nor did he hear the droning of the twin's voices in the loft +above. He was thinking of how the dead woman with her child—his child, +the one small atom he would have loved better than himself—would be +well avenged when Flea went away with Lem.</p> + +<p>Lon had kept track of the doings of the young district attorney. He knew +that he had gone to the gubernatorial chair but the year before. The +squatter smiled gloomily as he remembered the words of a newspaper +friendly to Vandecar, in which he had read that Syracuse was full of +painful memories for the new governor, and that Floyd Vandecar had taken +his family down the Hudson, to make another home at Tarrytown, where +Harold Brimbecomb, a youthful friend, resided. Another expression of +dark gratification flitted over Lon's heavy features as he reviewed +again the purport of the article. It had plainly said that in the new +home there would be fewer visions of a lost boy and girl to haunt the +afflicted parents. Lon realized in his savage heart that the change of +scene would not lessen the grief of the stricken family. It was his one +satisfaction to brood over the bereaved father and mother, delighting in +his part of the tragedy and enjoying every evidence of it. Never for a +moment did he think gently of the children, but only of the woman +sacrificed. On this night she stood so close that, with a groan, he put +out his hand. His flesh tingled; for he felt that he could almost touch +her, and his heart clamored for the warmth of the tender body he had +never forgotten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + +<p>"God!" he moaned between his teeth, "if I could tech her once, jest for +once, I'd let Flea stay to hum!"</p> + +<p>"Did ye speak, Lon?" asked Granny Cronk.</p> + +<p>"Nope; I were only a thinkin'."</p> + +<p>"Have ye changed yer mind 'bout Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, Mammy, and ye keep yer mouth shet if ye want me to stay to hum! +See?"</p> + +<p>Granny Cronk grunted a reply, and passed into the back room. Five +minutes later the rope cot creaked under her weight.</p> + +<p>Wrapped in his somber musings, Lon did not hear Flea approach him until +she was at his elbow. With her coming, the sweet phantom, to which he +grimly held in his moments of solitude, fled back to its unknown grave. +Never had his loved one been so near, so real; never before had she +touched his writhing nature in all its primeval strength. The girl +before him was so like the man who had withstood his agony that he +clenched his fist and rose from his chair. Flea was looking at him in +mute appeal; but before she could speak he had lifted his fist and +brought it down upon the lovely, beseeching face. The blow stunned her; +but only a smothered moan fell from her lips.</p> + +<p>"I hate ye!" growled Lon. "Get back to the loft afore I kill ye!"</p> + +<p>Slowly Flea was regaining her senses, and the squatter's curses struck +her ears like a whiplash. Bitter, scalding tears blinded her as, holding +her thin skirt to her bleeding nose, she stumbled up the ladder. With +anger unappeased, Lon, staggering like one drunken, took his cap from +the peg and went out.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>When Lon called Flukey, Flea followed her brother into the night, while +he arranged the thief's tools in the boat. There was a dull roar and +rush of the wind, as it tossed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> the lake into gigantic whitecaps, which +added to the girl's suffering. Her young soul was smarting beneath the +scathing injustice. As she watched Lem and Lon pull away, with Flukey at +the rudder, Flea squatted on the beach, bent her head, and wept long and +wildly.</p> + +<p>A gentle, sympathetic touch of a warm tongue made her put out her arms +and draw Snatchet into them. It comforted her to feel the faithful heart +beating against her own. That Lon disliked to have her and Flukey about +him, she knew; but she had not known until today that he hated her. He +had never before told her so. Flea caught her breath in a gasp, and +turned her eyes to a rift in a rock where the scow lay. Only a dark line +distinguished it in the shadows. At the thought that it was to be forced +upon her for a home, she cried again, and Snatchet, from his haven of +rest, lifted his pointed yellow nose and wailed dismally, striving with +all his dog's soul to assuage her unusual grief.</p> + +<p>The distant sound of a hoot-owl startled Flea from her tears. It was a +familiar sound to her and came as a call from a friend.</p> + +<p>Creeping into the low woodshed, Flea took up a bundle of fagots from the +corner, and, closing the door on Snatchet that he might not follow her, +mounted the hill with the wood under her arm. Once at the top of the +lane, she opened her lips and echoed the hoot. She passed through a +thicket of sumac into a clearing where a number of sheep were huddled +together in the cold night air. An answer came back almost instantly +from the ragged rocks, and, squatting in a hollow, Flea sat patiently +until the branches broke below her. A woman with tangled hair came +creeping cautiously forward.</p> + +<p>"Who be there?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"It's Flea, Screech Owl. Be the bats a runnin' in yer head?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yep, child," the woman answered mournfully. "The fagots be given out, +too, and I'm a huntin' of 'em. The night's cold."</p> + +<p>"I was lookin' for ye this afternoon, Screechy," said Flea. "Set down."</p> + +<p>The lean, half-starved woman dropped beside the girl. Flea put out her +hand and smoothed down the rough hair on Scraggy's black cat. The +animal, usually so vicious, purred in delight, rubbing his nose against +the girl's hand.</p> + +<p>"Air the little Flea wantin' the owl to tell her somethin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," replied Flea doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"And ye brought yer old Screechy a little present?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Some fagots to keep ye warm, Screechy."</p> + +<p>"Where be they?"</p> + +<p>"Here by my side."</p> + +<p>"Ye be a good Flea," cackled Screechy. "Be ye in trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. So be Flukey. Can ye tell me anything 'bout Flukey?"</p> + +<p>The woman frowned. "Flukey, Flukey, yer brother," she repeated. "I ain't +a likin' boys, 'cause they throw stones at me."</p> + +<p>"Flukey never throwed no stones at ye, Screechy, an' he's unhappy now. +He'll bring ye a lot more fagots sometime to heat yer bones by."</p> + +<p>"Aye, I'm a needin' heat. My bones be stiff, and my blood's nothin' but +water, and my eyes ain't seein' nothin'."</p> + +<p>"Don't they see things in the dark," asked the girl, superstitiously, +"ghosts and things?"</p> + +<p>"Aye, Flea; and the things I see now I'll tell ye if they be good or +bad—mind ye, good or bad!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good or bad," repeated Flea.</p> + +<p>At length, after a silence, the girl broke forth. "Air Flukey in yer +eyes, Screechy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, Flea, and so be you; but there ain't much for ye, savin' that ye +go a long journey lookin' for a good land."</p> + +<p>Bending her head nearer, Flea coaxed, "What good land, Screechy dear?"</p> + +<p>"Yer's and Flukey's, Flea."</p> + +<p>"Where air it?"</p> + +<p>"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch for yer short legs from +the squatter's settlement, and many a day when bread's short and water's +plenty, many a night when the cold'll bite yer legs, and many a tear—"</p> + +<p>"Be we leavin' Pappy Lon?" demanded the girl.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Forever and forever?"</p> + +<p>"For Flukey, yep; but for yerself—"</p> + +<p>Flea stared in speechless wonder and fright. "I don't want to stay +without Flukey!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"I ain't a tellin' ye what ye want to do; only how the shadders run. But +that's a weary day off. The good land be yers and Flukey's for the +seekin' of it."</p> + +<p>"Air Flukey goin' to be catched a thievin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, some day."</p> + +<p>"With Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, with yerself, Flea."</p> + +<p>"I ain't no thief," replied Flea sulkily. "I ain't never took nothin', +not so much as a chicken! And Flukey wouldn't nuther if Pappy Lon didn't +make him."</p> + +<p>From behind Screech Owl's shrouding gray hair two black eyes glittered.</p> + +<p>"The good land, the good land!" whispered the madwoman. "It be all +comin' for yerself and Flukey."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +<img src="images/illus-057th.jpg" +alt="AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?" +title="AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?" /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-057.jpg"> +AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?</a></p> +</div> + +<p>"Be I goin' to—" Flea sat back on her bare toes, her face suddenly +darkening with rage. "I won't go with him! I won't, Screechy, if he was +in every old eye in yer head! I won't, so there!"</p> + +<p>The darkness hid from Screech Owl the glint in Flea's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Who be it Lon said you was goin' with, Flea?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy must have forgotten her conversation with Lem but an hour or two +before; for she evinced no knowledge of any man interested in Flea.</p> + +<p>"A one-armed man. Pappy says I'm to be his woman. Be I, Screechy?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; but I see a hook a whirlin' in the air into the good land, a +whirlin' and a whirlin' after ye. I see it a stealin' on ye in the night +when ye think ye're safe. I see the sharp p'int of it a stickin' into +yer soft flesh—"</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't!" pleaded Flea in a smothered voice. "Ye said as how I +were goin' with Flukey to a good land down behind the college hill."</p> + +<p>"So ye be," assented the Owl; "but after ye get to the good land the +sharp p'int of the hook'll come and rip at ye. I see it a haulin' ye +back away from them what ye loves—"</p> + +<p>Flea grasped the woman's arm between her fingers and pressed nearer +Scraggy with a startled cry. The cat, hissing, lashed a bushy tail from +side to side. His eyes flashed green, and a cry came from Flea's lips. +In another instant she was speeding away down the rocks.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>At three o'clock the next morning a boat left the lighthouse at the head +of Cayuga Lake and was rowed toward the western shores. As before, two +men and a boy were in it. The lad was still at the rudder, while the men +swiftly cut the water stroke by stroke. For three miles down the lake no +one spoke; but when the boat scraped the shore in front of his hut Lon +broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"It weren't a bad haul tonight, were it, Lem?" he said almost jovially. +"And tomorry ye come up to the shanty for the dividin'. Ye know I +wouldn't cheat a hair o' yer head, don't ye, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, ye bet I know it! And I'm that happy 'cause I'm to take yer gal a +Saturday that I could give ye the hull haul tonight, Lon."</p> + +<p>"Ye needn't do that, Lem. I give ye Flea 'cause I want ye to have her, +and I know that you'll make her stand round and mind ye, and if she +don't—"</p> + +<p>"Then I'll make her!" put in Lem darkly. "She'll give back no more bites +for my kisses when I get her! I had a woman a long time ago, and when +she didn't mind me I beat her, and beat her and beat her hard! That's +the way to do with women folks!"</p> + +<p>"Ye had Scraggy, didn't ye, Lem?" asked Lon, heaping his arm with his +clothing.</p> + +<p>Flukey stood silently by, his pale face ghastly in the thin, yellow +moonlight.</p> + +<p>"Yep; but Scraggy wasn't no good. I didn't like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> her. I do like Flea, +and I'd stick to her, too. I'd marry her if ye'd say the word."</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't a askin' ye to marry her. Yer jest make her stand around, +and break her spirit if ye can. Flea ain't like Flukey; she's hard to +beat a thing out of."</p> + +<p>"I know how to handle her!" answered Lem. The silent laughter in his +throat ended in a grunt. He slung a small basket over the hook and went +off up the rocks to his scow.</p> + +<p>"Ye can go to bed, Flukey," said Lon. "Ye've done a good night's +work—and mind ye it ain't wicked to take what ye want from them havin' +plenty."</p> + +<p>Lon hesitated before proceeding. "And, Flukey, if ye know what's good +for Flea, don't be settin' her up ag'in' my wishes, 'cause if she don't +do what I tell her it'll be the worse for her!... Scoot to bed!"</p> + +<p>The boy stood for a moment, opened his lips to plead with the big, +sullen squatter for his sister; but, changing his mind, limped off to +the cabin.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>When the shanty was quiet a girl's figure shrouded in black curls +crawled across the hut floor to the loft ladder. Flea ascended quickly; +but halted at the top to catch her breath. She could hear from the other +side of the partition the sound of Lon's heavy snores, and from the +corner came the lighter breathing of her brother. Through the small loft +window the moonbeams shone, and by them Flea could see the boy's dark +head and strong young arm under the masses of thick hair.</p> + +<p>She began to crawl toward the cot, wriggling like a huge worm across the +bare boards. Several times she paused, trying to suppress her frightened +heartbeats. Then, lifting her hand, she placed it over Flukey's mouth +and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Fluke, Fluke, wake up! It's Flea!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flukey made no movement to dislodge his tightly pressed lips from the +trembling fingers. The gray eyes flashed open; but the lad lay perfectly +still.</p> + +<p>"Fluke," breathed Flea, "I'm goin' to the cave. Slip on yer pants, and +don't wake Granny Cronk nor Pappy Lon!"</p> + +<p>If it had not been that the boy pressed his fingers on the blanket, Flea +would have wondered if her brother had heard.</p> + +<p>The lithe form had crept back to the ladder and had disappeared before +Flukey slipped quietly from his bed and drew on the blue-jeans overalls. +As he stole through the kitchen, he could hear the snorts of Granny +Cronk coming from the back room. The outside door stood partly open, and +without hesitation he passed through and closed it after him that the +wind might not slam it. Then he limped along under the shore trees, up a +little hill, and dropped out of sight into an open cavern, where Flea, a +candle in her hand, sat in semidarkness.</p> + +<p>The cave had been the children's playground ever since they could +remember. Here they had come to weep over indignities heaped upon them +in childhood; here they had come in joy and in sorrow, and now, in +secret conclave in the early hours of the morning, they had come again.</p> + +<p>"Ye're here!" said Flea in feverish haste. "I feared ye'd go to sleep +again."</p> + +<p>"Nope; I allers come when ye want me, Flea."</p> + +<p>"Did ye steal tonight?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"What did ye get?"</p> + +<p>The boy shuddered, and a strange, hunted expression came into his eyes. +"Spoons, knives, clothes, and things," said he; "and I'd ruther be tore +to pieces by wild bulls than ever steal again!"</p> + +<p>His voice was toned with an unnatural ring. Wonder<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>ingly, Flea drew +closer to him, the candle dripping white, round drops hot on the brown +hand.</p> + +<p>"But Pappy Lon says as how ye must steal, don't he?" she asked +presently.</p> + +<p>"Yep, and as how you must go with Lem."</p> + +<p>"I won't, I won't! Pappy Lon can kill me first!"</p> + +<p>She said this in passionate anger; but, upon holding the candle close to +Flukey's face, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Fluke, don't look like that—it scares me!"</p> + +<p>He was piercing the dark ends of the cave, his eyes colored like steel. +They were softened only by shots of brown, which ran like chain +lightning through them. The girl's gaze followed her brother's timidly; +for he looked ahead, as if he saw something that threatened her and him. +In spite of her soft touch, the boy looked on and on in his unyielding +fierceness at the fast approaching inevitable, which he had not been +able to stem. That day a change had been ordered in their lives, and it +had come upon him in the shape of a mental blow that hurt him far worse +than if Pappy Lon had flogged him throughout the night.</p> + +<p>"If Pappy Lon sends me next Saturday to Lem," Flea ventured in an +undertone, "then ye can't help me much, can ye, Fluke?"</p> + +<p>The muscles of the boy's face relaxed, and he drew his knee up to his +chest. "When my leg ain't lame I'm strong enough to lick Lem, if—if—"</p> + +<p>"Nope; I ain't no notion for ye to lick him yet, Fluke. Do ye believe in +the sayin's of Screech Owl?"</p> + +<p>"Ye mean—"</p> + +<p>"Do ye believe what she says when the bats be a flyin' round in her +head, and when she sees the good land for you and myself, Flukey?"</p> + +<p>"Did she say somethin' 'bout a good land for us, Flea?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Where's the good land?"</p> + +<p>"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch from here—and, Flukey, I +ain't a goin' to Lena's, and ye ain't likin' to be a thief. Will ye come +and find the good land with me?"</p> + +<p>"Girls can't run away like boys can. They ain't able to bear hurt."</p> + +<p>Flea dropped her head with a blush of shame. She knew well that Flukey +could perform wonderful feats which she had been unable to do. Grandma'm +Cronk had told her that her dresses made the difference between her +ability and Flukey's. With this impediment removed, she could turn her +face toward the shining land predicted by Scraggy for Flukey and +herself; she could follow her brother over hills and into valleys, until +at last—</p> + +<p>"I could wear a pair of yer pants and be a boy, too, and you could chop +off my hair," she exclaimed. "All I want ye to do is to grow to be a man +quick, and to lick Lem Crabbe if he comes after me. Will ye? Screechy +says he's goin' to follow me."</p> + +<p>"I'll lick him anywhere," cried the boy, his tears rising; "and if ye +has to go to him, and he as much as lays a finger on ye, I'll kill him!"</p> + +<p>His face was so rigidly drawn during his last threat that he hissed the +words out through his teeth.</p> + +<p>"Then ye'd get yer neck stretched," argued Flea, "and I ain't a goin' to +him. We be goin' away to the good land down behind the college hill."</p> + +<p>"When?" demanded Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Tonight," replied Flea. "Ye go and get some duds for me,—a shirt and +the other pair of yer jeans. Crib Granny's shears to cut my hair off. +Then we'll start. See? And we ain't never comin' back. Pappy Lon hates<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +me, and he's licked ye all he's goin' to. Git along and crib the duds!"</p> + +<p>She rose to her feet, nervously breaking away the little rivers of +grease that had hardened upon her hand and wrist.</p> + +<p>"Ye've got to get into the hut in the dark," she said, "and then ye +stand at the mouth of the cave while I put on the things."</p> + +<p>"How be we goin' to live when we go?" asked Flukey dully, making no move +to obey her.</p> + +<p>"We'll live in the good land where there be lots of bread and 'lasses," +she soothed; "the two dips in the dish at one time—jest think of that, +ole skate!"</p> + +<p>He tried to smile at her forced jocularity; but the hunted expression +saddened his eyes again. To these children, brought up animal-like in +the midst of misery and hate, their world revolved round their stomachs, +too often empty. But this new trouble—the terror of Flea's going with +Lem—had made a man of Flukey, and bread and molasses sank into +oblivion. He was ready to shield her from the thief with his life.</p> + +<p>"Get along!" ordered Flea.</p> + +<p>Instead of obeying, the boy sat down on a rounded stone. "I'd a runned +away along ago, if it hadn't been, for you, Flea."</p> + +<p>"I know that you love me," said the girl brokenly; "I know that, all +right!"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't have stood Pappy Lon nor Lem nor none of the rest," groaned +Flukey, "and I was to tell ye tonight to let me go, and I would come +back for ye; but if ye be made to go with Lem—"</p> + +<p>"That makes ye take me with you," gasped Flea eagerly. "Huh?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, that makes me take ye with me, Flea; but if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> we go mebbe sometimes +we have to go without no bread."</p> + +<p>There was warning in his tones; for he had heard stories of other lads +who had left the settlement and had returned home lank, pale, and +hungry.</p> + +<p>"I've been out o' bread here," encouraged Flea. "Granny's put me to bed +many a time, and no supper. Get along, will ye?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I'm goin'; but I can't leave Snatchet. We can take my dorg, Flea. +Where's he gone?"</p> + +<p>"We'll take him," promised Flea. "He's in the wood-house. Scoot and get +the duds and him!"</p> + +<p>The boy toiled up the rocks to the top of the cave, and Flea heard his +departing steps for a moment, then seated herself in tremulous fear.</p> + +<p>Flukey pushed open the cabin door, listened a moment, and stepped in. No +sound save of loud breathing came from the back room where the old woman +slept. At the top of the ladder he could hear Lon snoring loudly. Flukey +crawled upon his knees to a small box against the wall. He pulled out a +pair of brown overalls and a blue shirt, and with great caution crept +back. Almost before Flea realized that he had gone, he was in the cave +again with Snatchet in his arms, displaying his plunder.</p> + +<p>"Put 'em on quick!" ordered Flukey. "Here, hold still!" As he spoke, he +gathered Flea's black curls into his fingers and cut them off boylike to +her head. " If Pappy Lon catches us," he went on, "he'll knock hell out +of us both."</p> + +<p>The girl, having surrendered her spirit of command, crawled into the +trousers and donned the blue shirt. After extinguishing the candle, +which Flukey slipped into his pocket, they clambered out of the cave, +leaving the rocky floor strewn with locks of hair, and stole softly +along the shore toward the college hill.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>Horace Shellington, newly fledged attorney and counsellor-at-law, sat in +his luxurious library, his feet cocked upon the desk in true bachelor +fashion. He was apparently deep in thought, his handsome head resting +against the back of the chair, when his meditations were broken by a +knock at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in. Is it you, Sis?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dear," was the answer as the girl entered. "Everett wants us to go +in his party to the Dryden fair. Would you like to?"</p> + +<p>Horace glanced up quizzically and smiled as the blush mounted to her +fair hair. "The question, Ann dear, rests with you."</p> + +<p>"I never tire being with Everett," Ann said slowly.</p> + +<p>"That's because you're in love with him, Sis. When a girl is in love she +always wants to be with the lucky chap."</p> + +<p>"And doesn't he want to be with her?" demanded Ann eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Of course. And, Ann, I shouldn't ask for a better fellow than Everett +is, only that I don't want you to leave me right away. Without you, +Dear, I think I should die of the blue devils!"</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to stay at home until you, too, get ready to marry?" Ann +asked laughingly. "I'm afraid I should never have a chance to help +Everett make a home if you did; for you simply won't like any of the +girls I know."</p> + +<p>"I want to get well started in my profession before I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> think of +marrying. I am happy over the fact that I have been able to enter +Vandecar's law office. He's the strongest man in the state in his line, +and it means New York for me some day. Vandecar is even more powerful +than Brimbecomb."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad for you, Horace, because it seems to me that you have an +opportunity that few men have. Nothing can ever keep you back! And you +are so very young, Dear!"</p> + +<p>"No, nothing can keep me back now, Ann. Sit down, do."</p> + +<p>"Not now, Dear; I'll run away from you, and tell Everett that you will +go to Dryden with us—and I do hope that the weather will be fine!"</p> + +<p>Ann tripped out, her heart light with contentment. Her star of happiness +had reached its zenith when Everett Brimbecomb had asked her to be his +wife. Rich in her own right, of the bluest blood in the state, soon to +marry the man who had been her ideal since their childhood days, why +should she not be happy?</p> + +<p>After leaving Horace, Ann went to the side window and tapped upon it. +Receiving no response, she lifted the sash and called softly to her +fiancé. Hearing her voice, Everett Brimbecomb appeared at the opposite +window. The girl's heart thrilled with happiness as he smiled upon her.</p> + +<p>"Run over a minute, Everett," she called.</p> + +<p>"All right, dear heart."</p> + +<p>His voice was so vibrantly low and rich that the girl experienced a +feeling of thanksgiving as she stood waiting for him at the door. When +he came, the lovers went into the drawing-room, where a grate fire +burned dim.</p> + +<p>"Horace says he'll go to Dryden, Everett," Ann announced, "and I'm so +glad! I thought he might say that he was too busy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everett smiled, slipped his arm about the girl's waist, and for a moment +she leaned against him like a frail, sweet flower.</p> + +<p>Presently Ann noticed that a shadow had settled on her lover's face. +Womanlike, she questioned him.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything the matter, Dear?" she asked, drawing him to the +divan.</p> + +<p>"Nothing serious. I've been talking with Father."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>She waited for him to continue; but he sat silent, wrapped in thought +for a long minute. At last, however, he spoke gloomily:</p> + +<p>"Ann, I wish I knew who my own people were."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you satisfied with those you have, Everett?" There was sweet +reproof in the girl's tones.</p> + +<p>"More than satisfied," he said; "but somehow I feel—no I won't say it, +Ann. It would seem caddish to you."</p> + +<p>"Nothing you could say to me would seem that," she answered.</p> + +<p>Everett rose and walked up and down the room. "Well, it seems to me +that, although the blood of the Brimbecomb's is blue, mine is bluer +still; that, while they have many famous ancestors, I have still more +illustrious ones. I feel sometimes a longing to run wild and do +unheard-of things, and to make men know my strength, to—well, to +virtually turn the world upside down."</p> + +<p>A frightened look leaped into the girl's eyes. He was so vehement, so +passionate, so powerful, that at times she felt how inferior in +temperment she was to him. Her heart swelled with gratitude when she +realized that he belonged to her and to her alone. How good God had +been! And every day in the solitude of her chamber she had thanked the +Giver of every gift for this perfect man—since he was perfect to her. +In a few moments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> she rose and walked beside him, longing to enter into +the hidden ambitions of his heart, to read his innermost thoughts. +Everett appreciated her feeling. Again he passed his arm around her, and +for a time they paced to and fro, each thankful for the love that had +become the chief thing in life.</p> + +<p>"I have an idea, Ann," began Everett presently, "that my mother will +know me by the scar on me here." He raised his fingers to his shoulder +and drew them slowly downward as he continued. "And I know that she is +some wild, beautiful thing different from any other woman living. And +I've pictured my father in my mind's eyes a million times, since I have +found out I am not really Everett Brimbecomb."</p> + +<p>"But Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb have done everything for you—"</p> + +<p>"So they have," broke in Everett; "but a chap wants to know his own +flesh and blood, and, since Mother told me that I was not her own son, +I've looked into the face of every woman I've seen and wondered if my +own mother was like her. I don't want to seem ungrateful; but if they +would only tell me more I could rest easier." A painful pucker settled +between his brows.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here, Everett," Ann urged, "and tell me if you have ever tried +to find them."</p> + +<p>"I asked my fath—Mr. Brimbecomb today." His faltering words and the +change of appellation shocked Ann; but she did not chide him, for he was +speaking again. "I told him that, now I was through college and had been +admitted to the bar, I insisted upon knowing who my own people were. But +he said that I must ask his wife; that she knew, and would tell me, if +she desired me to know. I promised him long ago that I would register in +his law office at the same time that Horace went to Vandecar's. Confound +it, Ann!—I beg your pardon, but I feel as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> I had been created for +something more than to drone over petty cases in a law office."</p> + +<p>"But, Everett, it has been understood ever since you went to Cornell +that you should enter Mr. Brimbecomb's office. You would not fail him +now that he is so dependent upon you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not; I intend to work with him. But I tell you this, Ann, +that I am determined to find my own people at whatever cost!"</p> + +<p>"Did you ask Mrs. Brimbecomb about them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but she cried so that I stopped—and so it goes! Well, Dear, I +don't want to worry you. It only makes a little more work for me, that's +all. But, when I do find them, I shall be the proudest man in all the +world."</p> + +<p>Ann rose to her feet hastily. "Here comes Horace! Let's talk over the +fair—and now, Dear, I must kiss away those naughty lines between your +eyes this moment. I don't want my boy to feel sad."</p> + +<p>She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother.</p> + +<p>"I was tired of staying in there alone," said Horace. "Hello, Everett! +It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one +failing in the fall—I always go. Let me see—you didn't go last year, +did you, Everett?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party +would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an +invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Vandecar is ill," said Ann. "I called there yesterday, and she is +the frailest looking woman I ever saw."</p> + +<p>"She's never got over the loss of her children," rejoined Everett. "It's +hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he +is."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> both!" +interjected Ann. "They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only +natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children +could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from +them in all these years?"</p> + +<p>"They're probably dead," replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon +them.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Flea and Flukey Cronk, followed by the yellow dog, made their way +farther and farther from Ithaca. They had left the university in the +distance, when a dim streak of light warned them that day was +approaching. It was here that Flea lagged behind her brother.</p> + +<p>"Ye're tired, Flea," said Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Will ye crawl into a haystack if we come to one?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>They spoke no more until, farther on, a farmhouse, with dark barns in +the rear, loomed up before them.</p> + +<p>"Ye wait here, Flea," said Flukey, "till I see where we can sleep."</p> + +<p>After an absence of a few minutes he returned and in silence conducted +the girl by a roundabout way to a newly piled stack of hay.</p> + +<p>"I burried a place for us both," he whispered. "Ye crawl in first, Flea, +and I'll bring in Snatchet. Lift yer leg up high and ye'll find the +hole."</p> + +<p>A minute later they were tucked away from the cold morning, their small +faces overshadowed by the new-mown hay, and here, through the morning +hours, they slept soundly. Then again they set forth, and it was late in +the afternoon when they drew up before the high fence encircling the +fair-grounds at Dryden. The fall fair was in full blast. Crowds were +passing in and out of the several gates. With longing heart, first Flea, +then Flukey, placed an eye to a knothole, to watch the pro<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>ceedings +inside. Rows of sleek cattle waved their blue and red ribbons jauntily +in the breeze; fat pigs, with the owners' names pasted on the cards in +front, grunted in small pens. For a time the twins stood side by side, +wishing with all their might that they were possessed of the necessary +entrance-fee.</p> + +<p>"If I could get a job," said Flukey, "we could get in."</p> + +<p>"I could work, too," said Flea, her hands dug deep in her trousers +pockets.</p> + +<p>Just then a man hailed them. "Want to get in, Kids?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yep!" bawled Flea and Flukey in unison, their hunger forgotten in this +new delight.</p> + +<p>"Then help me carry in those boards, and then you can stay in."</p> + +<p>Flukey looked apprehensively at Flea.</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't a boy—"</p> + +<p>"Shet up!" snapped Flea. "My pants're as long as your'n, and I be a boy +till we get to the good land. Heave a board on my shoulder, Fluke."</p> + +<p>They slid through the opening in the fence made to pass in the lumber, +and for ten minutes aided their new friend by carrying plank after plank +into the fair-grounds. When the work was done they stood awe-stricken, +looking at the gorgeous surroundings. Flags waved aloft on each +building; yards of bunting roped in exhibits of all kinds. Everywhere +persons were walking to and fro. But still the squatter children stood +motionless and stared with wide-open eyes at such an array of good +things as had never before gladdened their sight. Then, after the +strangeness had somewhat worn off, they wandered on, bewildered. +Snatchet was hugged tight in Flukey's arms; for other dogs laid back +their ears and growled at the yellow cur.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +<img src="images/illus-074th.jpg" +alt="THEN THEY COMED AN' TOOK ME AWAY FOR STEALIN'." +title="THEN THEY COMED AN' TOOK ME AWAY FOR STEALIN'." /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-074.jpg"> +THEN THEY COMED AN' TOOK ME AWAY FOR STEALIN'.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>Suddenly they came upon the athletic field. Here, reared high in the +air, was a slender greased pole, on the top of which fluttered a +five-dollar bill. Several youngsters, dressed in bathing suits, awaited +the hour when they should be allowed to try and win the money. One after +another they took their turn, and when an extra spurt up the pole was +made by some lucky boy the crowd evinced its delight by loud cheers. +Time and again the breeze fluttered the coveted money, and yet no boy +had won the prize.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to try it," said Flukey.</p> + +<p>"If we couldn't get it with bathing suits, you couldn't climb that pole +with them long pants," retorted one of the contestants who stood near. +"Look! that kid's goin' to get it, after all!" There was disappointment +in the tones; but the words had no sooner died away than the climber +slipped to the ground.</p> + +<p>Flea pinched Flukey's arm. "Be yer knee so twisted that ye can't try, +Flukey?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, my rheumatiz ain't hurtin' me now."</p> + +<p>"Then shinny up it, Fluke—ye can climb it! Get along there!"</p> + +<p>She took the dog from his arms, and the boy went +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'forword'">forward</ins> +when the call came for another aspirant.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to get that there bill!" said Flukey, shutting his teeth +firmly.</p> + +<p>He advanced and spoke in an undertone to a man, who, with a grin, +shouted out the name, "Mr. F. Cronk."</p> + +<p>The dignity of the prefix made Flukey spit upon his hands before he +started to climb the pole. Flea came closer and stood almost breathless. +Her parted lips showed small, even, white teeth, her eyes glistened, and +flashes of red blood crimsoned her face. One suspender slipping from her +shoulder, the vicious dog in her arms, the beautiful upturned face, was +as interesting a spec<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>tacle as the onlookers had ever seen. It was with +breathless interest that she watched her brother laboriously ascend the +pole.</p> + +<p>Flukey was indeed making a masterful climb. But at last he halted; and +then, a moment later, he climbed desperately. The girl on the ground saw +him falter, and knew that he was becoming faint-hearted. To encourage +him, she lifted a voice broken by emotion and shouted:</p> + +<p>"Go it, Fluke, go it!... Aw! damn it, he slid!... Go it, ole feller! Git +there, git there! Ye're almost there, Fluke—git it! It's a dinner—it's +a bone for Snatchet, and we'll eat!... Damn it! he slid again!... Aw! +hell!"</p> + +<p>Flukey gained the space he had lost in his last slide. Halfway up, he +began again, the men cheering and the women waving handkerchiefs. But +the boy had heard only the words from the little figure under the pole. +The five dollars did mean a good dinner, and a bone for lean Snatchet. +Up, up, and still up, until his fingers grasped the pole very near the +top.</p> + +<p>There he rested for breath. For a few seconds his head drooped on his +shoulders, and absolute quiet reigned below. His slender legs encircled +the pole, and finally, with a painful effort, he lifted out the pin +stuck in the bill, grasped the money in his fingers, and instantly slid +to the ground. Laughs and cheers roared into the air. Flea had backed +away from the pole, still holding the small dog; but, before she could +get to Flukey, other boys were surrounding him, asking how he had done +it.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>A sudden shouting came from hundreds of throats. One voice raised above +the clamor:</p> + +<p>"Anyone catching the greased pig, Squeaky, can have him. He's a fine +roaster! After him, Boys!"</p> + +<p>Over a knoll, his tiny nose swaying in the air, and four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> short legs +kicking the dust into clouds, skurried a small pig, coated from head to +tail with lard. Deftly he slipped for his life through many youthful +hands stretched out to grasp him, and time and again he wriggled from +under a small boy crouched to stop his progress. He passed the +danger-mark, and in the new stretch of ground, where the spectators were +standing, discerned a chance to escape.</p> + +<p>Flea saw him coming and could detect the terror in the flying little +beast. Her heart leaped up in answer to the call from something in +distress—something she loved, loved because it lived and suffered +through terrible fear. She dropped Snatchet and caught the greased pig +in her arms. She hugged him up to her breast and, turning flashing eyes +upon the people staring at her, said:</p> + +<p>"Poor little baby piggy! He's scared almost to death."</p> + +<p>"You've caught the greased pig!" somebody shouted. "You can have +him—he's yours!"</p> + +<p>"Ye mean mine to keep?" Flea demanded of the man who had cheered on the +boys.</p> + +<p>"Yes, to keep," was the reply, "and this five-dollar gold-piece because +you caught him."</p> + +<p>"I didn't try to catch him," she said simply. "He jest comed to me +'cause he were so afeard. His little heart's a beatin' like as if he's +goin' to die. I'll keep him, and I thank ye for the money.... Golly! but +ain't me and Flukey two rich kids? Where's Fluke?"</p> + +<p>Just then somebody stepped up behind the girl and touched her on the +arm. Flea turned her head and found herself gazing into the kindly eyes +and earnest face of her prince.</p> + +<p>Instantly she lost all thought of her brother and Snatchet. The voice +she had dreamed of was speaking.</p> + +<p>"Little boy," it said, "I've purchased every year the greased pig of the +youngster who caught him. May I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> buy him of you? I'll give you another +gold-piece for him."</p> + +<p>Words stuck in Flea's throat, and she only clung closer to the suckling. +At last she murmured, "What do ye want with him?"</p> + +<p>The man threw back his head and laughed. "Why, to eat him, of course. We +always have roast pig for dinner the day after the fair."</p> + +<p>Flea dug her toe into the dust and flung up a cloud of it, as her face +drew into a sulky frown. "Well," she drawled, "ye don't hog down this +'un! He's mine!"</p> + +<p>"But the money, Boy! Don't you want the money?"</p> + +<p>Her heart was beating so fast that she dared not lift her eyes again to +his. Then a lady spoke in a soft voice, and Flea glanced at her.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Horace Shellington," she said, "and if he did not have the +pig he would be disappointed. You'll let him buy it, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Flea looked into the questioning face of her prince, the face of her +dreams, looked again into his smiling eyes, and stood hesitant. Her +thoughts flew fast. She remembered the terrified pig, how she had pitied +him, and how much he wanted to live, to frisk in the sunshine. She +thought of the cruel knife that would reach the tiny heart tapping +against her own, and threw back her head in defiance.</p> + +<p>"Ye may have e't all the greased pigs in this here country," she said to +Shellington; "but ye don't eat this 'un! Ye see, this 'un's mine, and +he's goin' to live, eat, and be happy, that's all!" Although she had +spoken emphatically, her eyes dropped again before the keen gaze bent +upon her. To relieve her embarrassment, she turned and shouted, "Flukey, +Flukey, come along! Where's Snatchet?"</p> + +<p>So great had been Flea's excitement at the catching of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> the pig that she +had given no heed to the dog. Flukey had handed the little fellow to +her, and she had let him go.</p> + +<p>Suddenly an appalling spectacle rose before her. On an elevated spot, a +few feet from the greased pole, Snatchet stood poised in view of +hundreds of curious eyes. His short stubby tail had straightened out +like a stick. His nose was lowered almost to the ground. Each yellow +hair on his scarred back had risen separate and apart from one another, +while his beady eyes glistened greedily. Directly in front of him, +staring back with feathers ruffled and drooping wings, was a little +brown hen, escaped from her coop. She was eying Snatchet impudently, +daring him to approach her by perking her wee head saucily first on one +side and then on the other. Snatchet, pressed on by hunger beating at +his lean sides, slid rigidly a pace nearer. A cry went up from a +childish voice.</p> + +<p>"He'll kill my Queen Bess! Father—Oh! Father!"</p> + +<p>Flukey's voice, calling to his dog, rose high above the clamor. Suddenly +the little hen turned tail and flew across over the soft earth, uttering +frightened cackles; but her flight was slow compared to Snatchet's. He +came scurrying behind her, snapping a tail feather loose with each +onward bound, utterly oblivious of the two strong voices calling his +name.</p> + +<p>The little hen wove a precarious path through coops of chattering +chickens, and Snatchet, bent upon his prey, added to the din. He had no +way of knowing the twists and turns to be taken by his small brown +victim, and it was only by making sharp corners that Queen Bess kept +clear of the snapping teeth. Men were running to and fro for something +to beat off the yellow invader. The girl's voice had settled to a cry, +and, just as Flukey, panting and tired, reached the dog, Snatchet +snapped up the hen, shook her fiercely, and settled down to his meal. In +an instant Flukey had dragged the beating body from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> his teeth, kicked +him soundly with his bare foot, and held out the dead hen to a man whose +face was darkened by anger. The young mistress of the feathered queen +was clinging, sobbing, to his hand.</p> + +<p>"Is that your dog?" Flea heard the man ask, pointing to Snatchet under +the squatter boy's arm.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Do you understand that he killed my little girl's prize hen?"</p> + +<p>"The dog ought to die, too!" cried a voice from the people.</p> + +<p>Her brother's sorrowful attitude made Flea press Flukey's arm +soothingly.</p> + +<p>"So he ought to die!" said another.</p> + +<p>"He were hungry," explained Flukey, turning on Snatchet's accuser. +"Mister, if ye'll let my dorg live—"</p> + +<p>Before he could finish the child had interrupted him. "That dog ought to +die for killing my Bess!"</p> + +<p>Flea pushed past Flukey and stood before the little girl. "Kid, I don't +blame ye for cryin' for yer hen," she began; "but my brother ain't got +no dog but Snatchet, an' if ye'll let him live I'll give ye this bit of +gold I got for catchin' the pig."</p> + +<p>A murmur followed her words, and the tears dried in the blue eyes +looking up at her.</p> + +<p>"Here little 'un, chuck it in yer pocket," said Flea, straightening her +shoulders, "and it'll buy another hen."</p> + +<p>So the jury which had sat for a moment upon the precious life of +Snatchet brought in a verdict of "not guilty," and the squatter children +turned to find something to eat for the quartet of empty stomachs. Out +of sight of Dryden, they sat down beside the road, and Flea looked the +pig over.</p> + +<p>"Ye has to tie a piece of cord to his leg, Kid," cau<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>tioned Flukey; +"'cause he'll get away if ye don't. Ain't he fine?"</p> + +<p>"The finest pig in this here world," responded Flea. "Ye ain't got no +rag what'll wipe off some of this grease, have ye, Fluke?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; but ye can scrape it off with a stick or a rock. Here, ye hold +him tight while I dig at him."</p> + +<p>For about twenty minutes they busied themselves with cleaning the +suckling, laughing at his wriggles and squeaks.</p> + +<p>"What'll we call him?" asked Flea.</p> + +<p>"Squeaky," said Flukey, "that's what the man called out."</p> + +<p>"Aw, that ain't nice enough for me! I'll call him Prince, and ye call +him Squeaky—Prince Squeaky," she ended, knotting the cord Flukey had +given her about the short hind leg of the animal.</p> + +<p>"And we be rich," she declared later, "'most five dollars, a pig, and +Snatchet, and yer leg's well. It don't hurt a bit, do it?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, not now; but when I were at the top of that pole I got a damn +good twist. It's better now."</p> + +<p>"Then let's mog along," said Flea, "'cause we can eat all we want, now +we got money."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>For two weeks Flea and Flukey lived on the fat of the land. The country +afforded them haystacks, and the brooks, clear water. The children were +never happier than when Squeaky's nose was hidden in a tin can of +buttermilk, and the precious five dollars bought countless numbers of +currant buns, sugar cakes, and penny bones for Snatchet. Now Flukey +lifted his head proudly and walked with the air of a boy on the road to +fortune, and Flea kept at his side with the prince hugged close in her +arms. Through the long stretch of houseless roads Snatchet was allowed +to rove at will, and Flukey relieved his sister of her burden. By the +third day out toward the promised land the two little animals had become +firm friends, and the queer quartet walked on and on, as straight as the +crow flies, through the valleys and over the hills, wading the creeks +and ferrying the rivers, until they awoke one morning without money or +breakfast. The warm hay at night, much sunshine, and the absence of rain +had reduced the swollen joint in Flukey's knee to normal size; but that +day, as they trudged along, Flea noticed that he limped more than at any +time during their journey from Tompkins County. Even now, with hunger +staring wolf-eyed at them, there was no desire to return to Ithaca, no +thought of renewing their life in the squatter's settlement; for, +unknown to themselves, they were being swept on by a common destiny.</p> + +<p>"Ye're gettin' lame again," said Flea after awhile, the mother-feeling +in her making her watch Flukey with con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>cern. "Last night a-laying' in +the field didn't do ye any good. Let me lug Prince Squeaky."</p> + +<p>Without remonstrance, the boy surrendered the wriggling burden, and they +started out once more.</p> + +<p>"I wish we could find a nice, warm haystack," Flea commented; "it'd warm +up yer bones. Will we get to one, Fluke, after awhile?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, 'cause we're comin' to a big city."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he motioned to where Tarrytown lay on the banks of the +Hudson River, several miles distant. Then they were silent a time; for +each young life was busy with the tragedy of living. Just what they +would do for a place to sleep Flea could not tell, since under the +compact made in the rock-cavern they would steal no more.</p> + +<p>In the gathering twilight the two came upon the cemetery of Sleepy +Hollow, and here, tired, hungry, and despondent, they sat down to rest.</p> + +<p>"It's gettin' night," said Flukey drearily. "I wonder where we'll +sleep?"</p> + +<p>"Can't we squirm in this dead man's yard 'thout nobody seein' us?" asked +Flea, casting her eyes over the graves. "Ye can't walk no more tonight. +I ain't hungry, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Ye lie, Flea!" moaned Flukey. "Yer belly's as empty as Squeaky's or +Snatchet's. I've got to get ye somethin' to eat."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, without resistance, he allowed her to help him through the +large gate, and they struck off into the older part of the cemetery. All +through the night they lay dozing in the presence of the dead, Squeaky +tied by the leg to a tree, and Snatchet snuggled warmly between the two +children. The dawning of day brought Flukey new anguish; for both knees +were swollen, and he groaned as he turned over.</p> + +<p>Flea was up instantly. "Be ye sick?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Only the twist in my legs. I wish it wasn't so cold. If the sun would +only get warm!"</p> + +<p>"We'll get to the good land today, Fluke," soothed Flea, "and ye can eat +all ye want, and sleep with a pile of covers on—as big—as big as that +there vault yonder."</p> + +<p>"But we ain't in the good land yet, Flea," groaned Flukey, "and we're +all hungry. I wish I could 'arn a nickel. If ye didn't love the pig so +much, Flea, we could sell him. He's a growin' thinner and thinner every +minute, and Snatchet be that starvin' he could eat another mut bigger'n +himself."</p> + +<p>The girl made no answer to this, but tucked Squeaky's pink nose under +the blue-shirted arm and sat mute.</p> + +<p>Flukey, encouraged, went on. "Nobody'd buy Snatchet—he's only a poor, +damn, shiverin' cuss."</p> + +<p>"If we selled Prince Squeaky, some'un'd eat him," mourned Flea. "He +ain't goin' to be e't, I says!"</p> + +<p>So forceful were her tones that Flukey offered no more suggestions; but +stared miserably at the sun as it rose up from the east, dispersing the +cold, gray morning fog. Presently Flea stood up and said decisively:</p> + +<p>"We've got to eat. Ye stay here while I hunt for somethin'."</p> + +<p>She darted away before Flukey could remonstrate. For a long time the boy +lay on the damp ground, his face drawn awry with pain, watching the +wagons going back and forth on the road below. The pangs of hunger and +the night of rheumatism had told upon his young strength. His mind went +back to the hut on Cayuga Lake, and he thought of how when their absence +had been discovered Granny Cronk had cried a little, and how Pappy Lon +had cursed and grown more silent than ever. The tender heart of the sick +boy yearned toward the old squatter woman, who had been the only mother +he and Flea had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> ever known. In his loneliness he stroked Squeaky on the +snout and muttered tender words to the lean dog lying under his lame +leg. After a short time he saw Flea, with a small bundle in her hand, +picking her way among the graves. Flukey lay perfectly quiet until his +sister offered him a bun.</p> + +<p>"I could only buy four, 'cause I only had a nickel."</p> + +<p>"Give Squeaky and Snatchet one, will ye, Flea?" ventured Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Yep. I said, when I buyed 'em, there'd be one apiece."</p> + +<p>"Somethin' has made ye pale, Flea," said Flukey after each of the four +had devoured breakfast. "Ye didn't—"</p> + +<p>"I see Lem Crabbe's scow down by the river."</p> + +<p>Flukey uttered an exclamation and sat up with a groan. "He's comin' +after ye, Kid," he breathed desperately.</p> + +<p>"Nope, he ain't," assured Flea; "he's takin' lumber down to New York. +And he didn't see me. And we'll stay in this here graveyard till he's +gone. He's waitin' for the steam tug to come. I guess he poled from +Albany down when he couldn't use his mules."</p> + +<p>"Were Pappy Lon with him?" asked Flukey, drawing up his knees.</p> + +<p>"I dunno; I didn't wait to see. I had to 'arn this nickel."</p> + +<p>"Ye didn't steal it, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; I had it give to me for holdin' a horse. Ye believe me, Fluke?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I believe ye. And ye say as how we can't go on now to the good +land? We has to stay here?"</p> + +<p>"For awhile," replied Flea. "When Lem Crabbe goes to New York, then we +go, too."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>While hundreds of birds made ready for a long night in the elm trees, +the twins turned silent. Flukey lay with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> his eyes closed in pain. The +girl broke the quietude now and then by muttering softly the names on +the gravestones over which her eyes roved:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">"everett brimbecomb<br /> +one year old<br /> +beloved son of agnes and harold brimbecomb.</span><br /> +RESTING IN JESUS" +</p> + +<p>Flea read this over several times, and turned to Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Who's Jesus, Fluke?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The boy raised his head and opened his eyes languidly. "What? What'd ye +say, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Who's Jesus?" she asked again, pointing to the inscription on the +stone.</p> + +<p>"I dunno. I guess he's some old feller layin' down in there with that +kid."</p> + +<p>Thus the day had passed and the night fell. Flukey dropped into a deep +sleep, and Flea, huddling to the cold earth, settled closer to her +brother in the sheltering darkness. Suddenly the girl aroused as if from +a bad dream. She sat up, feeling for the pig and Snatchet, and placed +her hand on Flukey's quiet body and lay down. Once more came the sound. +It was the faint, distant hoot of an owl, stealing out through the tall +trees. Nearer and nearer it came, until Flea sat bolt upright. Instantly +into her mind shot the picture of a shriveled woman from the squatter +country. A cold perspiration broke over her.</p> + +<p>She turned her head slowly and looked off into the dark end of the +cemetery, over which hung a mist. Through this veil the pale moon +watched the earth with steady gaze. From among the monuments and +time-scarred headstones, looming darkly in the forbidding silence, an +apparition arose, and to Flea's vivid imagination it seemed as if +voiceless gray ghosts were peopling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> God's Acre on all sides. She +recoiled in horror as the strange, wild cry drew nearer.</p> + +<p>A hysterical sensation burning in her throat tightened it so she could +not speak to Flukey, nor could she drag her eyes from the thing moving +toward her. Snatchet growled; but Flea pressed his jaws together with a +snap, and the sound died in his throat. Squeaky moved slightly among the +dead leaves, then became quiet again. The phantom-like figure passed +almost near enough to touch the rigid girl. Its lips opened, and a +hoarse, owl-like cry aroused the sleepy birds above.</p> + +<p>"It's Screechy!" murmured Flea, dropping back in fear. "She's come +seekin' Flukey and me! The bats be flyin' in her head!"</p> + +<p>Screech Owl, ignorant of the children's proximity, went straight on, +gliding over the graves until she stopped before the stone mansion at +the edge of the graveyard. A light shone from the room, and the woman +stole directly under it. A tall, handsome young man, his gaze centered +thoughtfully upon the dark aspect, stood in the window. Flea saw +Screechy hold out her arms toward him with an appealing gesture. He +lifted his hand suddenly and drew down the shade, and his broad +shoulders were silhouetted against it in sharp, black lines. After that +the breathless girl saw the woman turn and stumble past her without a +sound.</p> + +<p>"The bats left her head the minute that there winder got dark!" gasped +the watcher. Tremblingly she drew closer to Flukey, until sleep +overpowered her.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The next day passed slowly, the cold rain lasting until almost +nightfall, and yet the children dared not venture into the town. Flea +fumed and fretted; for the earning of the nickel had whetted her +ambition to earn more. Now she dared not go near the river where work +could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> be found; but she knew that as soon as the tug appeared Lem +Crabbe would go to New York. Probably by this time the scow was far on +its way down the river. This was the decision at which the squatter +twins arrived after weary hours of waiting. So, when the twilight again +fell over the dead, they rose stiffly from their hiding place and limped +to the road.</p> + +<p>"We'll go back to the graveyard tonight, if this ain't the good land," +murmured Flea. "We'll be safe there from Lem, Fluke."</p> + +<p>"Wish we was rich like we was that fair-day, Flea," replied the boy, +scarcely able to walk.</p> + +<p>"I wish so, too. If we had that yeller gold-piece we coughed up for that +damn brown hen, we'd eat. But I'd ruther have Snatchet, Fluke."</p> + +<p>"I'd ruther have him, too; but we need money—"</p> + +<p>"And when we get it," interrupted Flea, "Snatchet'll have a hunk of +meat, and Prince Squeaky a bucket of buttermilk, and ye'll have liniment +for yer legs, Fluke."</p> + +<p>"Ye'll eat yerself first, Flea," said Flukey. "I saw ye when ye give the +pig a bit of yer biscuit yesterday mornin'."</p> + +<p>"We'll all eat in the good land," replied Flea hopefully.</p> + +<p>By this time they had come to the gateway and turned into the street. +Harold Brimbecomb's beautiful home was brilliantly lighted. It appeared +the same to Flea as on the night before, when she had seen Scraggy make +her melancholy play before it.</p> + +<p>Flea had refrained from speaking of her midnight fright to Flukey; for +he would but tell her that, like all girls, she was afraid, and a slur +from her brother was more than she could bear.</p> + +<p>Flea and Flukey had never been taught to pray, "Lead us not into +temptation." Now, with aching hearts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> and empty stomachs, they turned in +silence to the richly lighted houses. Flukey dragged himself resolutely +past Brimbecomb's as if he would avoid the desire that suddenly pressed +upon him to ply the trade in which he had been darkly instructed. But he +halted abruptly before the next house, the curtains of which were pulled +up halfway. The long windows reached to the porch floor. Through the +clear glass the children saw a table dressed in all the gorgeousness of +silver and crystal. At the spectacle a clamor for food set up in both +aching stomachs, and the two passed as if by one accord to the porch. As +they peered into the window with longing eyes, Squeaky was held tightly +under Flea's arm; but Snatchet, resting wearily on Flukey's, suddenly +sat up. He, too, had scented something to eat, and thrust in and out a +lean red tongue over pointed, tusky teeth.</p> + +<p>"It's time for me to steal, Flea," whispered Flukey, turning feverish +eyes toward his sister.</p> + +<p>"If you do it, Flukey, I'll do it with ye."</p> + +<p>With no more ado, Flukey's practiced fingers silently slid up the sash. +Two youthful bodies stepped through: the opening. In absolute quiet, +they stood raggedly forlorn, savagely hungry, before the tempting table. +There, was plenty to eat; so without a word the squatter girl placed +Squeaky before a glass dish of salad. His small pink nose buried its tip +from sight, and the food disappeared into the suckling's empty stomach. +Snatchet, squatting on his haunches, snapped up a stuffed bird. Flea +began to eat; but Flukey, now too ill, leaned against the red-papered +wall.</p> + +<p>Just at this critical moment the door opened, and Flea, greatly +frightened, started back to the window. She blinked, brushed a dark curl +from her eyes, and saw her Prince advancing toward her. He saw her, too; +but did not connect her with the bare-footed girl on Cayuga Lake,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> but +only with the boy who had kept from him the greased pig at the Dryden +fair. He glanced at Squeaky calmly eating the salad and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Bless my soul, Ann!" he said, turning to a lady who had followed him +in, "we have company to dinner, or my name isn't Horace Shellington! Why +didn't you young gentlemen wait, and we should all have been seated +together?"</p> + +<p>There was a whirling in Flukey's head, such as he had never felt before; +but Flea's ashen face brought back his scattered senses. He tried to +lift his arm to throw it about her; but dropped it with a groan. +Realizing the agony that had swept over her dear one, Flea gathered in a +deep breath and took his fevered hand in hers.</p> + +<p>"It weren't him," she cried, lifting her eyes to her questioner and +sullenly moving her head toward the shivering boy at her side. "I e't +yer victuals—he didn't. If one of us goes to jail, I do—see?"</p> + +<p>"Let me think," ruminated Horace, eying her gravely. "Six months is +about the shortest sentence given to a fellow for breaking into a house. +And what about the pig? I see him in the act of theft. Shall he go with +you?"</p> + +<p>"He were hungry, that's why Prince Squeaky stealed," exclaimed Flea, +dropping Flukey's fingers. There was something in the kindly eyes of the +man that forced her forward a step. She thrust out her hand in appealing +anxiety. "We was all hungry," she continued, a dry sob strangling her. +"Flukey nor me nor the pig nor Snatchet ain't e't in a long time. We did +steal; but if I knowed it were yer house—"</p> + +<p>A quizzical expression flashing into Shellington's eyes stopped her +words.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't have come in?" he queried.</p> + +<p>Flea nodded just as Snatchet jumped to the floor with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> another plump +bird between his teeth. Flukey staggered to his sister's side.</p> + +<p>"Let me tell ye how it was, Mister," he begged, his eyes bloodshot and +restless. "We be lookin' for a good land where boys don't have to steal, +and when they get sick they get well again."</p> + +<p>Here Flea burst forth impetuously.</p> + +<p>"He has such hellish rheumatiz that he can't set in no dark prison. I +can set weeks among rats and bugs what be in all prisons! I ain't afraid +of nothing what lives!"</p> + +<p>Flukey interrupted her by taking her arm and pushing her back a little.</p> + +<p>"I'm a thief by trade," he said; "but my sister ain't. She ain't never +stole nothin' in all her life, she ain't. Take me, will ye, Mister?"</p> + +<p>"Sister!" murmured the gentleman, turning to Flea.</p> + +<p>If nothing else had been said, the question would have been answered in +the affirmative by the vivid blush that dyed Flea's dark skin. Her +embarrassment brought another exclamation from Flukey.</p> + +<p>"She's a girl, all right! She's only tryin' to save me. She put on my +pants jest to get away from Pappy Lon. I'll go to jail; but don't send +her!"</p> + +<p>He swayed blindly, closing his eyes with a moan.</p> + +<p>"The child is sick, Horace," said Ann. "I think he is very sick."</p> + +<p>"Where did you sleep last night?" Shellington asked this of Flea.</p> + +<p>"Out there," answered the girl, pointing over her shoulder, "down by a +big monument."</p> + +<p>"Horace Shellington," gasped Ann, "they slept in the cemetery!"</p> + +<p>The sharp tone of the girl's voice brought Flukey back to the present.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We run away 'cause Pappy Lon were a makin' me steal when I didn't want +to," he explained, clearing his throat, "and he was goin' to make Flea +be Lem's woman. And that's the truth, Mister, and Lem wasn't goin' to +marry her, nuther!"</p> + +<p>He rambled on in a monotone as if too sick for inflection. Flea placed +one arm about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I'm a girl! I'm Flea Cronk!" she confessed brokenly. "And Flukey's +doin' all this for me! And he's so sick! I stealed from yer table—he +didn't! Will ye let him lay in yer barn tonight, if I go up for the +stealin'?"</p> + +<p>Never had Horace Shellington felt so keenly the sorrows of other human +beings as when this girl, in her crude boy clothes, lifted her agonized, +tearless eyes to his. His throat filled. Somehow, his whole soul went +out to her, his being stirred to its depths. He put out one hand to +touch Flea—when voices from the inner room stopped further speech. A +light step, accompanied by a heavier one, approaching the dining-hall, +brought his thoughts together.</p> + +<p>"Ann," he appealed, stepping to his sister's side, "you're always +wanting to do something for me—do it now. Let me settle this!"</p> + +<p>Speaking to Flukey, he said, "Pick up your dog, Boy!"</p> + +<p>"And the pig from the table!" groaned Ann distractedly.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Flukey mechanically stooped to obey, while Flea captured Squeaky and +tucked the suckling under her arm just as Shellington opened the door to +admit his guests. When Flea lifted her embarrassed gaze to the +strangers, she saw the same face that had peered at her over Horace's +shoulder at the Dryden fair, the face to which Screech Owl had made her +silent appeal. A graceful girl followed, whose eyes expressed +astonishment as Horace spoke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"These are my young friends, you will remember, Everett, from the fair, +Flea and Flukey Cronk." Turning his misty eyes upon the children he +continued, "This is Mr. Brimbecomb, and Miss Katherine Vandecar, +Governor Vandecar's niece."</p> + +<p>He went through this introduction to gain control of his feelings.</p> + +<p>"They have changed their minds, Everett, and have brought me the pig," +he exclaimed. "It was kind of you, child!"</p> + +<p>He had almost said "boy"; but, remembering the admission Flea had made, +he gazed straight at her, watching with growing interest the changes +that passed over the young face.</p> + +<p>"You see," he hurried on nervously, "they found out where I lived, and +thought I might still want the pig—"</p> + +<p>Ann Shellington admonishingly touched her brother's arm. "Horace!" she +urged; but he stopped her with a gesture.</p> + +<p>"I think it mighty nice of them to come all the way from Dryden with a +pig—on my soul, I do, Ann!"</p> + +<p>Taking a silver case from his pocket, he extracted a cigarette from it, +while directing his attention to Flea.</p> + +<p>"I want it now as much as I did then; but I don't believe that I shall +ever roast and eat him."</p> + +<p>Flea searched the speaker's face fearfully, her eyes lustrous with +melting tenderness. He had promised her that Squeaky should live; but +was he going to send Flukey away? It was slow torture, this waiting for +his verdict, each second measured full to the brim, each minute more +agonizing than the last.</p> + +<p>Horace Shellington was speaking again. "You see, Katherine," he said, +turning to the younger girl, "I know this puzzles you; but these two +youngsters won the pig at the fair, and I tried to buy it of them for a +roast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> Just at that time this little—chap—" he motioned toward Flea, +"didn't want to part with it. He's changed his mind. You see the pig is +here."</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington did not supplement her brother's statement; but the +tall stranger with the brilliant eyes gazed dubiously at the table and +then down into Flea's face.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet my hat," he said in a tone deep and rich, "that you boys have +been thieving!"</p> + +<p>Before the frightened girl could respond, the master of the house +stepped between them; but not before Flea had caught an expression that +took her back to Screech Owl's hut.</p> + +<p>"For shame, Everett!" chided Horace. "I have just told you that they +were trying to do me a favor. The pig has come a long way, and I gave +him some—salad. There's plenty more in the larder."</p> + +<p>It was hard for Horace Shellington to lie flagrantly, and his +explanation sounded forced. The music in his voice pierced the childish +lethargy of Flea's soul, awakening it to womanhood. Intuition told her +that he had lied for her sake.</p> + +<p>"And you gave him the birds, too?" Everett asked sneeringly, glancing at +the scattered bones.</p> + +<p>"No, I gave the dog the birds," replied Horace simply. "It seemed," he +proceeded slowly, "that just at that moment I felt for the hungry dog +and pig more than I did for my guests."</p> + +<p>He had backed to his sister's side with an imploring glance, and allowed +his hand to rest lightly on hers. She understood his message, and met +his appeal.</p> + +<p>"And now these young people have been so good to us," she said, "we +ought to repay them with a good supper. If you will come with me, Boys, +you shall have what you need.... Oh! Yes, you can bring both the dog and +the pig."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>A tranquil smile, sweet and pathetic, erased the pain-wrinkles from +Flukey's face. Supper at last for his dear ones!</p> + +<p>Ann held out her hand to him, and dazedly the sick lad took it in his +hot fingers. Then, remembering Everett's disapprobation of the boys, she +glanced into his face; but, meeting a studiously indifferent, slightly +bored look, she led Flukey away.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Flukey was too ill, as he stumbled along, to dread the outcome of their +act of theft. He realized only that a beautiful lady was leading Flea to +a place where her hunger could be satisfied, and, as he felt the warmth +of Ann's fingers permeate his own famished body, a great courage urged +him forward. He would never again steal at Lon's command, and Flea would +have to dread Lem no more! Something infinitely sweet, like new-coming +life, entered his soul. It was the first exquisite joy that had come to +Flukey Cronk. He stopped and disengaged his hand, to press it to his +side as a pain made him gasp for breath. Then of a sudden he sank to the +polished floor, still clinging to Snatchet.</p> + +<p>"Missus," he muttered, "I can't walk no more. Jest ye leave me here and +git the grub for Flea."</p> + +<p>Flea turned sharply. "I don't eat when ye're sick, Fluke. The Prince +says as how ye can sleep in the barn, and mebbe—mebbe he'll let me work +for the victuals Snatchet and Squeaky stole."</p> + +<p>Flea added this hopefully.</p> + +<p>"Children," said Ann in a smothered voice, "listen to me! You're both +welcome to all you've had, and more. The little dog and pig were welcome +too."</p> + +<p>Tears rose under her lids, and she turned her head away, that the twins +might not see them. Ann Shellington, like her brother, had never before +seen human misery depicted in small lives. At the mention of his dog, +Flukey opened his eyes and turned his gaze upward.</p> + +<p>"Thank ye, Lady," said he, "thank ye for what ye said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> about Snatchet. +Ain't he a pink peach of a dorg, Ma'm?"</p> + +<p>Ann inclined her head gently, glancing dubiously over the yellow pup. +She could not openly admit that Snatchet resembled anything beautiful +she had ever seen, when the boy, his lips twitching with agony, held his +pet up toward her.</p> + +<p>"Ye can take him, Ma'm," groaned Flukey. "He only bites bad 'uns like +Lem Crabbe."</p> + +<p>Snatchet, feeling the importance of the moment, lifted his head and shot +forth a slavering tongue. As it came in contact with her fingers, Miss +Shellington drew back a little. She had been used to slender-limbed, +soft-coated dogs; this small, shivering mongrel, touching her flesh with +a tongue roughly beaded, sent a tremor of disgust over her. Flea stepped +forward, took Snatchet from her brother, and tucked him away under the +arm opposite the one Squeaky occupied.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll go to the barn, Fluke," she said, "and ye'll go damn quick! The +lady'll let ye, and Snatchet'll go with ye. Squeaky sleeps with me."</p> + +<p>Ann coughed embarrassedly. "Children," she began, "we couldn't let the +dog and pig sleep in the house; neither could we allow you to sleep in +the barn. So, if you will let the coachman take your pets, I'll see that +you, Boy, go into a warm bed, and you," Ann turned to Flea, "must have +some supper and other clothes. Your brother is very ill, I believe, and +I think we ought to have a doctor."</p> + +<p>Flea pricked up her ears, and a sad smile crossed her lips. "Ye mean, +Ma'm," said she, "that Flukey can sleep in a real bed and have doctor's +liniments for his bones?"</p> + +<p>Ann nodded. "Yes. Now then hurry!... Look at that poor little boy!"</p> + +<p>Flukey was on his knees, leaning against the wall, his feverish fingers +clutching his curls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Horace! Horace!" called Ann.</p> + +<p>Shellington opened the dining-room door and went out hurriedly, leaving +Everett Brimbecomb and Katherine Vandecar still surveying the +disarranged table.</p> + +<p>"It all seems strange to me, Katherine; I mean—this," said Everett, +waving his hand. "I scarcely believed Horace when he said he had allowed +it."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, he approached the table and lifted the soiled cloth between +his fingers.</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself," he said, "the marks of the pig's feet on the +linen."</p> + +<p>Katherine examined the spots. "But it really doesn't matter, does it?" +she said. "The poor little animals were hungry, and Horace has such a +big heart!" and she sighed.</p> + +<p>Everett made an angry gesture. "But I object to Ann having anything to +do with such—" he hesitated and finished, "such youngsters. There's no +need of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Everett—but those two children must be cared for! Horace will come +back in a few minutes, and then we'll know all about it."</p> + +<p>"In the meantime I'm hungry," grumbled Everett, "and if we're going to +the theater—"</p> + +<p>He had no time to finish his sentence before Horace, with a grave +countenance, opened the door.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Katherine," he apologized, and then stopped; for he noticed +Everett's face dark with anger. Shellington did not forget that his +friends had come to dinner; but he had just witnessed a scene that had +touched his heart, and he determined to make both of his guests +understand it also.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<img src="images/illus-099th.jpg" +alt="I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS—AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I BE." +title="I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS—AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I BE." /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-099.jpg"> +I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS—AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I BE.</a></p> +</div> + +<p>"The evening has turned out differently from what Ann and I expected," +he explained. "The fact is that sister can't go to the theater, and I +feel that I ought to stay with her. So, we'll order another dinner, and +then, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>Everett, if you and Katherine don't—" His fingers had touched +the bell as he was speaking; but Everett stopped him.</p> + +<p>"If the boy is too ill to be taken to a hospital," he said coldly, "Ann +might be persuaded to leave him with the servants."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suggested that," answered Horace; "but she refused. The boy has +somehow won her heart, and the doctor will be here at any moment."</p> + +<p>A servant appeared, and in a half-hour the table was spread with another +dinner. Ann's coming to the dining-room did not raise the spirits of the +party; for her eyes were red from weeping, and she refused to eat.</p> + +<p>"I've never known before, Everett," she said, "that children could +suffer as that little boy does."</p> + +<p>"And you shouldn't know it now, Ann, if I had my way," objected +Brimbecomb. "There's a strong line drawn between their kind and ours, +and places have been provided for such people. I really want you to come +with us tonight."</p> + +<p>In sharp astonishment, Ann turned on him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I really couldn't, Everett!" she said, beginning to sob. "I +shouldn't enjoy one moment of the time, while thinking of that poor +child. You take Katherine, and say to Governor and Mrs. Vandecar that we +couldn't come tonight. Tell them about it or not as you please. They are +both good and kind, and will understand."</p> + +<p>Her tears had ceased during the latter part of her speech; for the frown +had deepened on Everett's brow, bringing determination to her own. Never +before had she been forced to exercise her wish above his, and +Brimbecomb was not prepared for it. Something new had been born in the +large, sad eyes turned to his, something he did not comprehend, and he +inwardly cursed the squatter children.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>At eight o'clock Everett handed Katherine into the carriage and gloomily +took his place beside her. They were late at the theater by several +minutes, when he brushed aside the curtain and ushered Miss Vandecar +into the Governor's box. Mrs. Vandecar was seated in the far corner, her +attention directed upon the play. Vandecar rose quietly, and before +resuming his seat waited until his niece had taken her place. Then they +were silent until the curtain fell after the first act.</p> + +<p>"Where are Horace and Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar of Everett. "Ann +telephoned me at dinner-time that she would be here."</p> + +<p>Everett inclined his head toward Katherine, and the girl explained the +situation. When she had added pathos to the story by telling of Flukey's +illness, Mrs. Vandecar broke in.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad Ann stayed, dear girl! It's like her to nurse that sick +child." She said no more; but turned away with misty eyes.</p> + +<p>During the next act the Governor drew near her, and amid the shadows of +the darkened box, took up the slender fingers and held them until the +lights flashed upon the falling curtain. Both had gone back in memory to +those dreadful days when tragedy had cast its somber shadows over them.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The doctor had predicted a serious illness for Flukey. Ann and Horace +held an earnest conversation about it. Miss Shellington's maid had been +instructed to relieve Flea of her boy's attire and clothe her in some of +Ann's garments. Horace led his sister to the room where Flukey lay, and +suggested that Flea be called.</p> + +<p>A servant appeared at the touch of the bell.</p> + +<p>"Tell the boy's sister to come here," said Horace.</p> + +<p>When Flea knocked at the door a few minutes later, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> bade her enter. +Suppressing her pleasure and surprise at the girl's loveliness, Ann +walked forward to meet her; but the little stranger backed timidly +against the door and flashed a blushing glance at the man.</p> + +<p>The mauve dressing-gown, reaching to the floor, displayed to advantage +the girl's lithe figure, accentuating its long, graceful lines. The +bodice, opened at the neck, exposed the slender white throat, around +which the summer's sun had tanned a ruddy ring. Her hair had been parted +in the center and twined in adorable curls about the young head.</p> + +<p>The transformation drew an untactful ejaculation from Horace, and he +stared intently at the sensitive face. Flea's gray eyes, after the first +hasty glance at him, sought Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Flukey ain't so awful sick, be he?" she questioned fearfully.</p> + +<p>Ann passed an arm tenderly around her. "Yes, child, he is very ill. My +brother and I want to speak to you about him."</p> + +<p>"But he ain't goin' dead?"</p> + +<p>Her tone brought Horace nearer. In spite of Flea's somberness, the +bouyancy of her youth obliterated the memory of every other girl he +knew. He was confounded by the thought that a short time before she had +stood as a ragged boy before him. She had been transformed into +womanhood by Ann's clothing.</p> + +<p>Flea bent over Flukey and hid her face. Even when Horace had discovered +the pig in the salad, her embarrassment had been of small moment to +this. After an instant, she lifted her eyes from her muttering brother +and allowed them to fall upon her Prince. There was an unmistakable +smile upon his lips; nevertheless, a great fear possessed her. If Flukey +were allowed to stay there because of his illness, she at least would be +taken away;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> for she had never heard of a theft being entirely +overlooked, and she believed that her imprisonment must be the penalty.</p> + +<p>She stooped a little and lovingly touched Flukey's shoulder, looking +first at Ann, then at Horace. Straightening up, she burst out:</p> + +<p>"Mister, if ye're goin' to have me pinched for stealin', do it quick +before my brother knows about it, and—I'd ruther go to prison in +Fluke's pants—please!"</p> + +<p>Still the master of the house did not speak. Flea was filled with +suspicion, and thought she divined the cause of his quietness and smile. +He was ridiculing her dress, perhaps making sport of the way her curls +were arranged. She thrust one hand upward and tumbled the mass of hair +into disorder.</p> + +<p>"Yer woman put these togs onto me," she said, "and I feel like an old +guy—dressed up this way!"</p> + +<p>Anger forced tears into her eyes, and her two small brown hands clenched +under the hanging lace at her wrists. Her words and the spontaneous +action deepened the expression on the face of the silent man, and she +cried out again:</p> + +<p>"Ye needn't be making fun of me, Mister! I can't help how I look."</p> + +<p>But a feverish exclamation from the sick boy so increased her anxiety +for him that her own troubles were overwhelmed. She was rendered +unmindful that Ann had softly called her name; nor did she realize that +Shellington had spoken quietly to her.</p> + +<p>She flung out her hands in eloquent appeal.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thank ye for covering my brother up so warm! He didn't need no +sheets nor piller-slips; but his bones did need the blankets—sure. I +say as how he'd thank ye, too, if he weren't offen his head."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace gently took the girl's hands in his, and Flea lowered her +sun-browned face.</p> + +<p>"I know he would, child," he said in moved tones. "He's more than +welcome to all we can do—and you are to stay here, too, little girl."</p> + +<p>Horace had done what Ann had been unable to do. The words had soothed +the squatter girl, and the savage young heart was softened. The long, +dreary country marches were over; the cold nights and bare fields were +things of the past. For Flukey, there were tender hands that would ease +his pain; for her, a home unmenaced by Lem. She had looked her last upon +horrors that had bound her to a life she hated.</p> + +<p>Shellington spoke to her.</p> + +<p>"Look at me, child!" said he. "I want to tell you what the doctor said."</p> + +<p>She lifted an anxious gaze filled with the emotion of a woman's soul. It +was her dawning womanhood that Horace saw, and toward it his manhood was +unconsciously drawn.</p> + +<p>Ann spoke quietly:</p> + +<p>"The doctor says that your brother will be ill many weeks, and we have +decided to keep him here with us, if you consent to our arrangements."</p> + +<p>"Ye mean," gasped Flea, snatching her hands from Horace, "ye mean that +Flukey can lay in that there bed till he gets all well and all the +misery has gone out of his bones?"</p> + +<p>Ann's answer meant much to Flea. The girl had realized the import of the +speech; but, that she might better understand the words, she had sent +them questioningly back in her vernacular for further confirmation.</p> + +<p>"If you are willing to stay with us," Horace was saying, "and will help +us take care of him—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>He could not have offered anything else that would so have touched her. +How she had longed to do something for Flukey those last hours in the +graveyard! But Flea wanted no mistake. Did the gentleman understand how +terribly poor they were?</p> + +<p>"We ain't got no money, and we only own Squeaky and Snatchet."</p> + +<p>Shellington smiled at the interruption.</p> + +<p>"You will still own your dog and pig, child, if you ever wish to go +away. My sister and I are anxious to have your brother grow strong and +well. He has rheumatic fever, which is sometimes very stubborn, and if +we don't work hard—"</p> + +<p>He paused, tempted to pass one arm about the girl as his sister had +done; but the womanliness of her forbade.</p> + +<p>"Ye think Flukey mightn' get well?" Flea breathed.</p> + +<p>Ann turned anxious eyes upon the boy, who was muttering incoherently.</p> + +<p>"Poor little child! May Jesus help him!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Flea rose to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Jesus! Jesus!" she repeated solemnly. "Granny Cronk used to talk about +him. He's the Man what's a sleepin' in the grave with the kid with the +same name as that bright-eyed duffer who don't like Fluke nor me."</p> + +<p>Ann, mystified, glanced at Horace.</p> + +<p>Flukey turned slowly, opened his eyes, and murmured;</p> + +<p>"'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little—'"</p> + +<p>He sighed painfully as the last words trailed from his lips. Flea ended +his quotation, saying:</p> + +<p>"'A little child.' But, Flukey, Jesus is dead and buried."</p> + +<p>"No, no, He isn't, child!" cried Ann sharply. "He'll never die. He will +always help little children."</p> + +<p>"Ain't He a restin' in the dead man's yard out there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>demanded Flea, lifting her robe as she moved toward Ann.</p> + +<p>"No! indeed, no! He is everywhere, with the dead and the living, with +men and women, and also with little children."</p> + +<p>"Where be He?" Flea asked.</p> + +<p>"In Heaven," replied Ann, leaning over Flukey. "And He's able even to +raise the dead."</p> + +<p>Flea grasped her arm.</p> + +<p>"Then, if He's everywhere, as ye've jest said, can't ye—"</p> + +<p>Flukey opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"If ye know that Man Jesus, well enough," he broke forth, trying to take +her hand in his, "if ye ever sees Him to speak to Him, will ye say that, +if He'll let my bones get well, and keep my little Flea from Lem, I'll +do all He says for me to? Tell Him—tell—tell Him, Ma'm, that my bones +be—almost a bustin'."</p> + +<p>"Can He help Fluke any if ye ask Him?" Flea questioned.</p> + +<p>Ann nodded; but Flea, not satisfied, asked the question directly of +Horace.</p> + +<p>"I believe so," he hesitated; "yes, I do believe that He can and will +help your brother."</p> + +<p>"Will ye ask Him?" Flea pleaded. "Will ye both ask Him?"</p> + +<p>Ann answered yes quickly; and Flea was satisfied with the nod Horace +gave her before he wheeled about to the window.</p> + +<p>When Flukey was resting under the physician's medicine, Horace and Ann +listened to the tale of the squatter children's lives, told by Flea. It +was then that Shellington promised her that Squeaky should find a future +home on their farm among other animals of the kind, and that he would +make it his task to see that the little pig had plenty to eat, plenty of +sunshine, and a home such<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> as few little pigs had. Snatchet, too, Horace +promised, should be housed in a warm kennel with the greyhounds and +blooded pups.</p> + +<p>When Flea leaned over Flukey to say goodnight to him, she breathed:</p> + +<p>"This be the promised land, all right, Fluke! Ain't we lucky kids to be +here?"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>With infinite tenderness, Ann led Flea into the pretty blue bedroom. The +girl drew back with an exclamation.</p> + +<p>"It's too nice for a squatter! But I'm glad you put Fluke in that red +place, 'cause it looks so warm and feels warm. But me—"</p> + +<p>Ann interrupted hastily.</p> + +<p>"You remember my brother saying that you were going to stay here with us +until your brother was well?"</p> + +<p>Flea assented.</p> + +<p>"Then, as long as you are with us, you will be our guest just as though +you were my sister. Would you like to be my sister?"</p> + +<p>Flea dropped her gaze before the earnest eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yep!" she choked. "But I'm a squatter, Missus, and squatters don't +count for nothin'. But Fluke—"</p> + +<p>"Poor child! She can't think of anyone but her brother," Miss +Shellington murmured to herself.</p> + +<p>But Flea caught the words.</p> + +<p>"He's so good—oh, so awful good—and he ain't never had no chance with +Pappy Lon. If he gets well, we'll work together, and we won't steal +nothin' ever no more."</p> + +<p>"I feel positive you won't," assured Ann. "You remember, I told you +tonight how very good God is to all His children, and you are a child of +His, and you know that the Bible says that you must never take anything +that doesn't belong to you."</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't never seen no Bible," faltered Flea.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then I'm going to give you one, and you can learn to read it. Wouldn't +you be happy if your brother should get well, and you knew that your +prayers had done it?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be me, Ma'm; 'twould be you and your brother."</p> + +<p>Ann considered how she should best begin to open the young mind to +truth.</p> + +<p>"Child, would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Yep," replied Flea eagerly. "Is it about fairies, or ghosts, or goblins +what live near lakes?"</p> + +<p>"No; it's about Jesus, who died to save the world."</p> + +<p>Then gently and simply Ann told the story of the Passion to the +wondering girl, and shortly after left her to sleep.</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington went to her brother's study, and he met her with a +quizzical smile.</p> + +<p>"You've woven a net about yourself, Sis, haven't you?" said he.</p> + +<p>"And about you, too, Dear," Ann retorted. "But, Horace, I shouldn't have +thought of keeping them, if you hadn't consented."</p> + +<p>She looked so troubled, her brow puckered up in thought, that he smiled +again.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you wouldn't—I know that. But I'm not in the least sorry. +We've money enough to do a kindness once in awhile. And as long as you +don't work yourself to death over them I sha'n't complain."</p> + +<p>They were silent for a little while. Then presently Ann spoke musingly:</p> + +<p>"Horace, do those children remind you of someone?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know that they do. I'm not a fellow who notices resemblances. +Why?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell. Only, when they stood there tonight by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> the table, +looking so forlorn, there was something familiar about them."</p> + +<p>"Your dear, tender heart imagined it," Horace declared.</p> + +<p>"Possibly. Still, the feeling has been with me ever since. Horace, I've +always wanted to do some real work, and don't you think this—"</p> + +<p>"Hark!" Horace interrupted. "Wasn't that the bell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's Everett, I hope," said Ann, rising, "I thought perhaps he +would run in. Yes, I hear his voice! Shall I bring him in here for a few +moments?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>When Everett came in, Horace noted that he had lost the frown. +Brimbecomb good naturedly demanded if Ann intended to start a +kindergarten. He recounted how Mr. and Mrs. Vandecar had received their +excuses, and then said:</p> + +<p>"Ann, Mrs. Vandecar thought you so charitably inclined. She seemed quite +exercised over the story. But you don't intend to keep them here after +tomorrow morning, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, Everett," Ann explained, "Horace and I have talked for a +long time about doing some real charity work; so now we're going to try +an experiment."</p> + +<p>"These boys—"</p> + +<p>Ann interrupted. "One of them is a girl."</p> + +<p>Horace saw the change on Brimbecomb's face and said hurriedly:</p> + +<p>"The girl had on her brother's clothes, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Strange proceedings all the way through, though," snapped Everett.</p> + +<p>He was showing himself in a new light, and Horace noted that the young +lawyer's face bore sarcasm and un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>pleasant cynicism. He wondered that +his gentle, obedient sister had gathered courage to stand against her +lover's wishes; for Everett had expressed a decided objection to Ann's +working for the squatter children. Suddenly he felt a twinge of dislike +for the man before him, and his respect for Ann deepened. How many +girls, he reasoned, would have the courage and desire thus to take in +two suffering children? He rose quickly and left the room.</p> + +<p>Everett took up the argument again with Miss Shellington:</p> + +<p>"Ann, you're going very much against my wishes if you keep those +children here."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Dear," she said simply; "but you know—"</p> + +<p>"I know that you won't do anything of which I disapprove, Ann."</p> + +<p>"You're mistaken, Everett," Ann contradicted slowly. "I could not allow +even you to mark out my duty. And something makes me so anxious to help +them! I don't want to go against your wishes; but—I must do as my +conscience dictates."</p> + +<p>"Surely you don't mean, Ann, that if you were my wife you would force—"</p> + +<p>"Please don't, Everett! No, of course not; but this is Horace's home and +mine, and, if we desire to share it with someone less fortunate than we +are, you shouldn't object."</p> + +<p>Everett took up no more time in vain argument; but registered a vow that +he would make it warm for the beggars who had thrust themselves upon the +Shellingtons. He would search for an opportunity! Impatient and +unsettled, he left Ann. She, too, was unhappy; for it had been the first +time her duty had ever clashed with her love. The shock of the collision +hurt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> + +<p>The next morning Flea crept into her brother's room and stood looking +down at him. He opened his eyes languidly, smiled, and groaned.</p> + +<p>"Ain't yer bones any better this mornin'?" asked Flea in an awed +whisper.</p> + +<p>"Yep; but my heart hurts me. The pains round it be worse than the misery +in my knees, 'cause I can't breathe."</p> + +<p>Flea bent lower.</p> + +<p>"Did the pretty lady tell ye anythin' last night?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; did she tell you anythin'?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, all about the Jesus. Get her to tell you, Fluke. It's better than +fairy stories. I can't remember all of it; but she says He jest loved +everybody so well that He let 'em nail Him on a cross, and died there. +But He got up again, and that's how He came to be up there."</p> + +<p>Flea pointed upward.</p> + +<p>"Did Miss—Miss Shellington tell ye that?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, Fluke." She hesitated and whispered again, "Do ye believe it, +Fluke?"</p> + +<p>"Course I do, if she says it! Don't ye think what she says is so?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe all that," replied Flea. "I tried last night, and +couldn't. You used to laugh at me when I said as how there was ghosts."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe she don't believe in ghosts," sighed Flukey.</p> + +<p>"It's almost the same. She believes in Jesus."</p> + +<p>"He's all I believe in, too." Flukey closed his eyes wearily.</p> + +<p>"Fluke," whispered Flea presently, "ye ought to see that room I slep' +in! It were finer'n this one."</p> + +<p>"This be the promised land, all right, what Scraggy speaked about," said +Flukey. "There ain't no more places like it in this here world."</p> + +<p>"I believe that, too," answered Flea, "and if we hadn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> been hungry +we'd never have stealed, and we wouldn't have found Mr. and Miss +Shellington. Yet she says it's wicked to steal."</p> + +<p>"So it be, Flea, and ye know it. All ye're tryin' to do now is not to +believe about that Jesus. I bet somethin'll come that'll make ye believe +it."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe," mumbled Flea darkly; "but 's long 's 'tain't Pappy Lon or Lem, +I don't care."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN"></a>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>During the next two weeks, while Flukey was fighting with death, and the +great Shellington mansion was as silent as a tomb, Scraggy Peterson was +tramping back to the squatter country. When she reached Ithaca, she was +almost too ill to start up the Lehigh Valley tracks toward her hut. The +black cat clung to her tattered jacket, his wizard-eyes shining green, +as Screech Owl passed under the gas-lamps. It was almost ten o'clock at +night when she unlatched her shanty door and kindled a fire. The larder +was bare, save for some crusts of hard bread. These the woman soaked in +hot water and shared with the cat. Then, in a state of great exhaustion, +she picked up Black Pussy, blew out the candle, and, for the first time +in many days, slept in her own hut.</p> + +<p>On the shore below Lem Crabbe's scow was drawn up near the Cronk hut. +The squatter and scowman were conversing in the dim light of a lantern +that swung from Lem's hook.</p> + +<p>"Did ye make any hauls while ye was gone, Lem?" asked Lon.</p> + +<p>"Nope, only sold the lumber. I ain't trying nothin' alone."</p> + +<p>"It was cussed mean I couldn't go along with ye," Lon said; "but I had +to stay to hum. Did ye know that Mammy were dead?"</p> + +<p>"Nope!"</p> + +<p>"Yep, and buried, too! She fretted over the brats,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> and kep' a sayin' +they was dead in the lake. But I know they jest runned off some'ers."</p> + +<p>"I know it, too," Lem grunted savagely. "The gal didn't have no likin' +for me."</p> + +<p>"I jest see Scraggy come hum," ventured Lon. "She's been gone for a long +while. She were a comin' down the tracks."</p> + +<p>Lem muttered a savage oath, and faced the scow preparatory to entering. +Looking back over his shoulder, he asked:</p> + +<p>"Be ye comin' in, Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; I'm goin' to bed. Say, Lem, while ye was away, ye didn't get ear +of no good place to make a haul soon, did ye?"</p> + +<p>"Yep; I tied up to Tarrytown goin' down. There be heaps of rich folks +there. Middy Burnes what runs the tug says as how there be a feller +there richer than the devil.... Hell! I've forgot his name!"</p> + +<p>Lem halted on the gangplank and thought for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Nope, I ain't; I jest thought of it!... Shellington! That's him, and +he's a fine house, and many's the room filled with—"</p> + +<p>Lon broke in upon Lem with a growl:</p> + +<p>"Then we'll separate him from some of his jewjaws. I bet we has a little +of his pile afore another month goes by!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I bet, too," muttered Lem. "Night, Lon."</p> + +<p>"Night," repeated Lon, walking away.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Lem placed the lantern on the table and sat down to think. Ever since +the day Screech Owl had told him of the boy he had wounded so many years +before his mind had worked constantly with the thought that he must +find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> the home where his son was. Scraggy was the only human being to +tell him. She must tell him! He would make her, if he had to choke the +woman to death to get her secret! He remembered how she had mocked at +him when she had told him that strange bit of news. Realizing that +Scraggy's malady made her difficult to coerce, he decided to try +cajolery at once.</p> + +<p>Lent rose and took a bit of bread from the cupboard shelf. He slipped it +into a bag, caught up the lantern with his hook, and left the scow. He +halted in front of Scraggy's dark hut and pounded on the door. The cat, +scrambling to the floor inside, was Lem's answer. He knocked again.</p> + +<p>"Scraggy! Scraggy!" he called. "It be Lemmy! Open the door!"</p> + +<p>Through her deep sleep came the voice Screech Owl had loved, and still +loved. She sat up in bed, trembling violently, pushing back with a +pathetic gesture the gray hair from her eyes. She had been dreaming of +Lem—dreaming that she had heard his voice. But black pussy couldn't +have dreamed also. He was perched in the small window, lashing his great +tail from side to side. She slid from the bed, stretched out a bony +hand, and clutched the cat.</p> + +<p>"Did ye hear him, too, black pussy?"</p> + +<p>"Scraggy!" called Lem again, "Open the door! I brought you something to +eat."</p> + +<p>It was the thought of the time when he had loved her so, and not of the +food he had brought, that forced Scraggy to the door. She flung it open, +and the scowman entered.</p> + +<p>"I thought ye might be hungry, Scraggy; so I brought ye this bread," +said Lem, lifting the hook and sending a ray from the lantern upon the +woman. "Can I set down?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>Could he, this king among men to her, could he sit down in her hut? He +could have had her heart's blood had he asked it! Had she not crowned +him that day, when he had stood awkwardly by, as she tendered him a +dark-haired baby boy? Scraggy's happiness knew no bounds. She forgot her +fatigue and set forth a chair for Lem.</p> + +<p>"Be ye glad to see me, Scraggy?" asked he presently, crossing his legs +and watching her as she lighted some candles.</p> + +<p>"More'n glad," she replied simply. "But what did ya come for, Lemmy?"</p> + +<p>Lem remained silent for some seconds; then said:</p> + +<p>"Do ye want to come back to the scow, Scraggy?"</p> + +<p>"Ye mean to live?"</p> + +<p>Lem shoved out his hairy chin.</p> + +<p>"Yep, to live," said he.</p> + +<p>"Did ye come to ask me back, Lemmy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, or I wouldn't have been here. I've been thinkin' our fambly +oughter be together."</p> + +<p>"Fambly!" echoed Screech Owl wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Yep, Scraggy. We'll get the boy again, and all of us'll live on the +scow."</p> + +<p>His swarthy face went yellow in the candlelight, and the huge goiter +under his chin evidenced by its movements the emotion through which he +was passing. Scraggy had sunk to the floor. Now she crawled nearer him, +staring at his face with wonder-widened eyes.</p> + +<p>"Do ye mean, Lemmy, that ye love yer pretty boy brat well enough to want +him on the scow, and that he can eat all he wants?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I mean," grunted Lem.</p> + +<p>"And that ye mean me to tell him what ye says, Lemmy, and that ye want +me to bring him back?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + +<p>Scraggy had drawn closer and closer to Lem, her sad face wrinkling into +deeper lines. With each uttered word Lem had seen that he had conquered +her. Suddenly he dropped his heavy left hand down on the gray head and +kept it there.</p> + +<p>For the first time in many weary years Scraggy Peterson was kneeling +before her man. Now he wanted her! He had asked her to come again to +that precious haven of rest, and to bring the child! Scraggy forgot that +the babe she had passed through the barge window was grown to be a man, +forgot that he might not want to come back to the scow with her and his +father.</p> + +<p>Lem drew her close between his heavy knees and touched her withered chin +with his fingers.</p> + +<p>"Where be the brat, Scraggy?" he wheedled.</p> + +<p>Screech Owl lifted her head and drew back frightened. Something warned +her that she must not tell him where his son lived.</p> + +<p>"I'll get him for ye," she said doggedly.</p> + +<p>"Where be he?" demanded the scowman.</p> + +<p>"I ain't tellin' ye where he be now, Lem." Scraggy's tone was sulky.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause I'll go and get him. I'll bring him to the scow +lessen—lessen—"</p> + +<p>"Lessen what?" cried Lem darkly.</p> + +<p>"Lessen a month," replied Scraggy, "and ye'll kiss the brat, and he'll +call ye 'Daddy,' and he'll love ye like I do, Lemmy dear."</p> + +<p>Lem was rigid, as the woman smoothed down his shaggy gray hair and +patted his hard face. Suddenly he started to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Ye say, Scraggy, that ye'll bring the boy lessen a month?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yep, lessen a month. And, Lemmy, he be a beautiful baby! Ye'll love +him, will ye, Lemmy?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. And now ye take yer cat, Screechy, and get back to bed, and when +ye get the boy bring him to the scow." He hesitated a moment; then said, +"Ye don't know, do ye, where Flea and Flukey run to?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy's face dropped.</p> + +<p>"Be they gone?" she stammered, rising.</p> + +<p>"Yep, for a long time; and Granny Cronk be dead."</p> + +<p>"Then ye didn't get Flea, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. And I don't want the brat, Scraggy; I only want the boy." He +spoke with meaning, and when he stood on the hut steps he turned back to +finish, "Ye'll bring him, will ye, Owl?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, Lemmy love, lessen a month."</p> + +<p>Scraggy greedily watched the shadowy form move away in the light of the +lantern. "Pussy, Pussy," she muttered, as she closed the door, "black +Pussy, come a beddy; yer ole mammy be that happy that her heart's a +bustin'."</p> + +<p>When Screech Owl, although the happiest woman in the squatter +settlement, fell asleep with the cat in her arms, her pillow was wet +with tears.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Through long days of anxious waiting for Flukey's recovery, Flea +struggled with the Bible lessons Ann set for her each day. Yet she could +not grasp the meaning of faith. She prayed nightly; but uttered her +words mechanically, for the Savior in the blue sky seemed beyond her +conception. In spite of Miss Shellington's tender pleading, in spite of +the fact that Flukey believed stanchly all that Ann had told them, Flea +suffered in her disbelief. Many times she sought consolation in Flukey's +faith.</p> + +<p>"Ye see, Flea, can't ye," he said, one morning, "that when Sister Ann +says a thing it's so? Can't ye see it, Flea?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nope, I can't. I don't know how God looks. I can't understand how Jesus +ruz after he'd been dead three days."</p> + +<p>"He did that 'cause He were one-half God," explained Flukey, and then, +brightening, added, "Sister Ann telled me that if He hadn't been a +sufferin' and a sufferin', and hadn't loved everybody well enough, God +wouldn't have let Him ruz. 'Twa'n't by anything He did after He were +dead that brought Him standin' up again."</p> + +<p>"Then who did it?" queried Flea.</p> + +<p>"God did—jest as how He said 'way back there when there wasn't any +world, 'World, come out!' and the world came. He said, 'Jesus, stand +up!' and Jesus stood up. That's as easy as rollin' off a log, Flea."</p> + +<p>She had heard Ann explain it, too; but it seemed easier when Flukey +interpreted it.</p> + +<p>"If I could see and speak to Him once," she mourned, "I could make +Sister Ann glad by tellin' her that I knowed He'd answer me."</p> + +<p>"Ask Him to let ye see Himself," advised Flukey, "He'll do it, I bet! +Will ye, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Nope! I'd be 'fraid if He came and stood near me. I'm 'fraid even now +when I think of Him; but 'cause I can't believe 'tain't no reason why +you can't, Fluke."</p> + +<p>She turned her head toward the door and listened.</p> + +<p>"Brother Horace ain't like Sister Ann," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Nobody ain't like her, Flea. She's the best ever!"</p> + +<p>"Yep, so she is. But I wish as how—" She paused, and a burning blush +spread over her face. "I wish as how Brother Horace had Sister Ann's way +of talking to me. I could—"</p> + +<p>"Brother Horace ain't nothin' to do with yer believin', Flea."</p> + +<p>"Yep, he has, and when he says as how he believes like Miss Shellington, +then I'll believe, too. See?"</p> + +<p>Then Flea fell into a stubborn silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>One afternoon in December, Ann and Horace sat conversing in the library.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how Mrs. Vandecar can refuse to help you get that child +into school, Ann."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she will; but Everett thinks she ought."</p> + +<p>"Everett's getting some queer notions lately," Horace said reluctantly.</p> + +<p>Ann's heart ached dully—the happiness she had had in her lover had +diminished of late. Constantly unpleasant words passed between them on +subjects of so little importance that Ann wondered, when she was alone, +why they should have been said at all. Several times Brimbecomb had +refused to further his acquaintance with the twins.</p> + +<p>"I only wish he would like those poor children," said she. "I care so +little what our other friends think!"</p> + +<p>Shellington pondered a moment. He reflected on Flea's beseeching face as +she pleaded for Flukey, and he decided that the censure of all his +acquaintances could not take his protection from her.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't care for the opinion of any of them," he replied +deliberately. "I want only your happiness, Sis, and—theirs."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it be nice if we could find respectable names for them?" Ann +said presently. "One can't harmonize them with 'Flea' and 'Flukey.'"</p> + +<p>After a silence of a few moments, Horace spoke:</p> + +<p>"What do you think about calling them Floyd and Fledra, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but would we dare do that, Horace?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? It wouldn't harm the Vandecars, and the children might be +better for it. We could impress upon them what an honor it would be."</p> + +<p>"But the Vandecars' own little lost children had those names."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's true, too; but I haven't the least idea that either one of them +will take offense, if you explain that we think it will help the +youngsters."</p> + +<p>"Shall I speak with Mrs. Vandecar about it this afternoon?" asked Ann.</p> + +<p>"Yes, just sound her, and see what she says."</p> + +<p>"I might as well go to her right away, then, Horace. You talk with the +little girl about going to school while I'm gone. You can do so much +more with her than I can."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Horace, "and I feel very sure that we won't have any +trouble with her."</p> + +<p>After seeing his sister depart, he returned to the library and, before +settling himself in a chair, sent a summons to Flea.</p> + +<p>When the girl appeared, Horace rose and cast smiling eyes of approval +over her.</p> + +<p>"That's a mighty pretty dress you have on," said he. "Was it Sister's +idea to put that lacy, frilly stuff on it?"</p> + +<p>Flea crimsoned at his praise, as she nodded affirmation.</p> + +<p>"Sit here in this chair," invited Shellington. "I want to have a little +chat with you this afternoon."</p> + +<p>Unconsciously Flea put herself into an attitude of graceful attention +and gazed at him worshipfully. At that moment Horace felt how very much +he desired that she grow into a good woman.</p> + +<p>"How do you think your brother is today?" he questioned kindly.</p> + +<p>"He's awful sick," replied Flea.</p> + +<p>"I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time. He was filled +with the fever when he came here. Now, my sister and I have been talking +it over—"</p> + +<p>Flea rose half-hesitantly.</p> + +<p>"And ye wants me to take him some'ers else?" she questioned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace motioned again for her to be seated.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, child," said he; "you're quite wrong in your hasty guess. No, +of course, you're not to go away. But my sister and I desire that while +you are here you should study, and that you should come in contact with +other girls of your own age. We want you to go to school."</p> + +<p>"Study—study what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, learn to read and write, and—"</p> + +<p>"Ye mean I have to leave Flukey, and—and you?"</p> + +<p>She had risen and had come close to him, her eyes filled with burning +tears. Horace felt his throat tighten: for any emotion in this girl +affected him strangely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no! You won't go away from home—at least, not at night; only for a +few hours in the daytime. I'm awfully anxious that you should learn, +Flea."</p> + +<p>She came even closer as she said:</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything you want me to—'cause ye be the best ole duffer in +New York State!" Then she whirled and fled from the room.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Ann Shellington rang the Vandecar doorbell, and a few minutes later was +ushered upstairs. Mrs. Vandecar was in a negligée gown, and Katherine +was brushing the invalid's hair.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Ann dear," said Mrs. Vandecar, "for receiving you in this +way; but I'm ill today."</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry! It's I who ought to ask pardon for coming. But I knew +that no one could aid me except you in the particular thing I am +interested in."</p> + +<p>"I shall be glad to help you, if I can, Ann.... There, Katherine, just +roll my hair up. Thank you, Girly."</p> + +<p>Ann had seated herself, and now spoke of her errand:</p> + +<p>"You've heard of our little charges who came so strangely to us not long +ago?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar nodded.</p> + +<p>"Horace and I wish to do something for them. It seems as if they had +been sent to us by Providence. The lad is very ill, and the girl ought +to go to school. We were wondering if you could have her admitted for +special lessons to Madame Duval's. The school associations would do such +a lot for her." As Ann continued, she marked Mrs. Vandecar's hesitation. +"I know very well, Dear, that I am asking you a serious thing; but +Brother and I think that it would do her a world of good."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar thoughtfully received the shawl Katherine brought her. +Then she looked straight at Ann and said:</p> + +<p>"Everett doesn't approve of your work, does he, Ann?"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington colored, and fingered her engagement ring.</p> + +<p>"No," she replied frankly; "but it's because he refuses to know them. +They're little dears! I've explained to him our views, and have promised +that they shall not interfere with any plans he and I may make. I've +never seen Horace vitally interested before, or at least so much so. +Now, do you think that you would be willing to do this for us? Mildred's +going to the school, and you being a patroness will make Madame Duval +listen to such a proposal from you."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar turned upon her visitor searchingly.</p> + +<p>"Are you doing right, Ann, in taking these children into your home life? +I appreciate your good-heartedness; but—"</p> + +<p>"Horace and I have talked it all over," interjected Ann, "and we are +both assured that we are doing what is right. Won't you think it over, +and let us know what you decide? If you find you can't do it—why, we'll +arrange some other way."</p> + +<p>The plan of naming the children came into her mind; but she hesitated +before broaching it. Mrs. Vandecar was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> a type of everything high-bred +and refined. Would it offend her aristocratic sense to have the children +named after her and her husband? Ann overcame her timidity and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Fledra, there's another thing I wanted to speak of. The children came +to us without proper names, and Horace suggested that we call them Floyd +and Fledra. Would you mind?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar drew back a little, a shade passing over her face. A +painful memory ever present seized her. Long ago two babies had been +called after their father and mother—after her and her strong husband. +Could she admit that she did not care? Could she consent to Ann's +request? Ann noted her struggle, and said quickly:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry—forgive me, Dear!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar's face brightened, and she smiled.</p> + +<p>"I thought at first that I didn't want you to; but I won't be foolish. +Of course, call them whatever you wish. Floyd won't mind, either."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Horace met his sister expectantly.</p> + +<p>"Did you ask her about the names, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. At first she was not inclined to either of our plans; but she has +such a tender heart."</p> + +<p>"So she has," responded Horace.</p> + +<p>"She consented about the names; but said that she would send me word +about the school."</p> + +<p>"And she didn't give a ready consent?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I'm almost sure that she will do it. And now about Flea. Did +you talk with her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. She consented to go to school, and said—that I was the best old +duffer in New York State."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Horace! She must be taught not to use such language. It's dreadful! +Poor little dear!"</p> + +<p>"It'll take sometime to alter that," replied Horace,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> shaking his head. +"They've had a fearful time, and she's been used to talking that way +always; she's heard nothing else. You can't alter life's habits in a +day."</p> + +<p>"But Madame Duval won't have her if she's impudent," said Ann.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but she's scarcely that," expostulated Horace; "she doesn't +understand. I'll try to correct her sometime."</p> + +<p>But he felt the blood come up to his hair as he promised; for it seemed +almost impossible to approach the girl with a matter so personal. For +the present, he dismissed the thought.</p> + +<p>"What about the names, Ann?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"As you wish, Dear; Fledra doesn't care."</p> + +<p>From that moment, the boy, struggling with fever, and the gray-eyed +girl, so like him, were called Floyd and Fledra Cronk.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>One morning in January, the day before Flea was to begin her school +work, she was passing through the hall that led to the front door. Her +face was grave with timidity; although for hours Ann had been trying to +fortify the young spirit against the ordeal that was to confront her the +following day. Only once had Flea faltered a request that she be allowed +to stay at home; but Horace had melted her objections without expelling +her fear. To Ann's instructions concerning conduct she had listened with +a heavy heart.</p> + +<p>Everett Brimbecomb opened the front door as Flea approached it. She +stopped short before him, and he drew in a sharp, quick breath. Flea was +uncertain just what to do. She knew that he was going to marry Ann, and +was also aware that he hated her brother and herself. Ann, however, had +taught her to bow, and she now came forward with hesitant grace, and +inclined her head slightly. The beauty of Flea made Everett regret that +his objections<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> to the twins had been so strenuous; but he would +immediately establish a friendship with her that would please both Ann +and Horace. He vowed that at the same time he would get some amusement +out of it.</p> + +<p>"Well! You've blossomed into a girl at last," he said banteringly, "and +a mighty pretty one, too! I swear I shouldn't have known that you were +one of those boys!"</p> + +<p>Flea threw her peculiar eyes over him; but did not speak.</p> + +<p>"You're going to school tomorrow, I hear. How do you like that?"</p> + +<p>Flea shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go," she admitted; "but my Prince says as how I have +to."</p> + +<p>"Your what?"</p> + +<p>"My Prince!"</p> + +<p>"Your Prince! Who's your Prince?" demanded Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>"Him, back in there," replied Flea, casting her head backward in the +direction of the library.</p> + +<p>"You mean Mr. Shellington?"</p> + +<p>"Yep!"</p> + +<p>Everett burst into a loud laugh. At the sound, Horace stepped to his +study-door and looked out. His face darkened as he discerned Flea +standing against the wall and Brimbecomb looking down at her. He came +forward and stationed himself at the girl's side, placing one hand upon +her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, little Miss—I'm sure I don't know the child's name," cried +Everett breaking into merriment again, "she says you're a—Prince, +Horace."</p> + +<p>Shellington lowered his eyes to Flea, who was gazing up at him +fearfully. She did not look at Everett; but made an uneasy gesture with +her hand toward Horace. She had never seemed so appealingly adorable, +and in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>wardly Everett cursed the stupidity that had allowed so many +weeks to pass by without his having become Flea's friend.</p> + +<p>There was silence, during which the girl locked and unlocked her +fingers. Then she relieved it with the frank statement:</p> + +<p>"This man here didn't seem to know nothin' about ye; so I told him ye +was a Prince."</p> + +<p>Ann's voice from the drawing-room caused Everett to turn on his heel, +leaving Horace alone with Flea.</p> + +<p>For a moment they were both quiet. Flea considered the toe of her +slipper. A tear dropped to the front of her dress as Horace took her +hand and led her into the library.</p> + +<p>"Fledra," he said, using the new name with loving inflection, "what are +you crying for?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you was mad at me," she shuddered. "That bright-eyed duffer +what I hate laughed when I said ye was a Prince. I hate his eyes, I do, +and I hate him!"</p> + +<p>Shellington did not correct her mistakes in English as he had done so +often of late. With shaded remonstrance in his tone, he said:</p> + +<p>"Fledra, he is going to marry my sister, and he's my friend."</p> + +<p>"He ain't good enough for Sister Ann," muttered Flea stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"She loves him, though, and that is enough to make us all treat him with +respect."</p> + +<p>Turning the subject abruptly, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I'm expecting you to work very hard in school, Fledra. You will, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Flea, making sure to pronounce the word carefully.</p> + +<p>Horace smiled so tenderly into her eyes that she grew frightened at the +thumping of her heart and fled precipitately.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN"></a>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Fledra Cronk's school days lengthened slowly into weeks. She was making +rapid strides in English, and Miss Shellington's patience went far +toward keeping her mind concentrated upon her work. At first some of the +girls at the school were inclined to smile at her endeavors; but her sad +face and questioning eyes drew many of them into firm friends. +Especially did she cling to Mildred Vandecar, and raised in the +golden-haired daughter of the governor an idol at whose shrine she +worshiped.</p> + +<p>One Saturday morning in the latter part of March, Mildred Vandecar +persuaded her mother to allow her to go, accompanied by Katherine, to +the Shellington home. They found Ann reading aloud to the twins, Flukey +resting on the divan. Mildred was presented to him, and in the hour that +followed the sick boy became her devoted subject.</p> + +<p>The three young people listened eagerly to the story, and after it was +finished Ann entered into conversation with Katherine.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she heard Flukey exclaim, in answer to some question put by +Mildred:</p> + +<p>"My sister and me ain't got no mother!"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington colored and partly rose; but she had no chance to +speak, for Mildred was saying:</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! how you must miss her! Is she dead? And haven't you any +father, either?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," said Flukey; "but he ain't no good. He hates us, he does, and +worse than that, he's a thief!"</p> + +<p>Mildred drew back with a shocked cry. Ann was up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> instantly; while +Fledra got to her feet with effort. She remembered how carefully Ann had +instructed her never to mention Lon Cronk or any of the episodes in +their early days at Ithaca; but Flukey had never been thus warned.</p> + +<p>"Mildred, dear," Ann said anxiously, "Floyd and Fledra were unfortunate +in losing their mother, and more unfortunate in having a father who +doesn't care for them as your father does for you." She passed an arm +about Fledra and continued, "It would be better if we were not to talk +of family troubles any more, Floyd.... Fledra, won't you ask Mildred to +play something for you?"</p> + +<p>The rest of Mildred's stay was so strained that Miss Shellington +breathed a sigh of relief when Katherine suggested going. For a few +seconds neither Ann nor Fledra spoke after the closing of the door. It +was the latter who finally broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Flukey hadn't ought to have said anything about Pappy Lon; but he +didn't know—he thought everybody knew about us.... Are ye going to send +us away now?"</p> + +<p>The girl's anxiety and worried look caused Ann to reassure her quickly.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>In describing the events of the afternoon to her mother, Mildred wept +bitterly. When a grave look spread over Mrs. Vandecar's face, Katherine +interposed:</p> + +<p>"Aunty, while those children undoubtedly had bad parents, they will +really amount to something, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>It was not until she was alone with Katherine that Mrs. Vandecar opened +the subject.</p> + +<p>"I'm almost afraid I was incautious to allow a friendship to spring up +between this strange child and Mildred. I wish I could see her."</p> + +<p>"Ask her here, then. She's very pretty, very gentle,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> and needs young +friends sadly, although the Shellingtons are treating the two children +beautifully. If they don't grow up to be good, it won't be Ann's fault, +nor Horace's."</p> + +<p>"I'll invite the child to come some afternoon, then." With this decision +the subject dropped.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>That evening Ann went out on a charitable mission, leaving Fledra to +deliver a message to Everett and to care for Floyd. The boy was in bed, +his thin white hands resting wearily at his sides. For sometime he +allowed his sister to work at her lessons. Then he said impetuously:</p> + +<p>"Flea, why be these folks always so kind to you and me? They ain't never +been mad yet, and I'm allers a yowlin' 'cause my bones and my heart hurt +me."</p> + +<p>Flea looked up from her book meditatively.</p> + +<p>"They're both good, that's why."</p> + +<p>"It's 'cause they pray all the time, ain't it?" Floyd asked.</p> + +<p>"I guess so."</p> + +<p>"I'd a died those nights if Sister Ann hadn't prayed for me, wouldn't I, +Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Flea in abstraction.</p> + +<p>After a silence, Floyd spoke again:</p> + +<p>"Flea, do you like that feller what Sister Ann's going to marry?"</p> + +<p>The girl dropped a monosyllabic negative and fell to studying.</p> + +<p>"Why?" insisted Floyd.</p> + +<p>Before Flea could reply, a servant appeared at the door, saying that Mr. +Brimbecomb wanted Miss Shellington.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<img src="images/illus-132th.jpg" +alt="IT WERE A PRINCE—A REAL LIVE PRINCE!" +title="IT WERE A PRINCE—A REAL LIVE PRINCE!" /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-132.jpg"> +IT WERE A PRINCE—A REAL LIVE PRINCE!</a></p> +</div> + +<p>Fledra closed her book and went to the drawing-room, where she found +Everett standing near the grate. His brilliant smile made her drop her +eyes embarrassedly. She overlooked his extended hand, and made no move +to come forward. The girl had always felt afraid of him. Now <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>his +presence in the room increased her vague fears. Why she had felt this +sudden premonition of evil, she did not know, nor did she try to analyze +her feelings. Young as she was, Fledra recognized in him an enemy, and +yet his attitude betrayed a personal interest. She had seen him many +times during the last few weeks; but had managed to escape him through +the connivance of Miss Shellington. Ann had tactfully explained to the +girl that Mr. Brimbecomb did not feel the same toward her and Flukey as +did her brother; but had added, "It's because he does not know you both, +Dear, as Horace and I do."</p> + +<p>Once alone with him, she knew only that she wanted to give him Ann's +message and return quickly to Floyd. Before she could speak, Brimbecomb +passed behind her and closed the door.</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann won't be home for an hour," said Flea, turning sharply.</p> + +<p>Everett smiled again.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, then," he said.</p> + +<p>"I can't; I have to study."</p> + +<p>Something in the girl's tones brought a low laugh from Everett. He came +closer to her.</p> + +<p>"You're a deliciously pretty child," he bantered. "Won't you take hold +of my hands?"</p> + +<p>Placing her arms behind her, Flea answered:</p> + +<p>"No, I don't like ye!" She backed far from him, her eyes burning with +anger.</p> + +<p>"You're a very frank little maid, as well as pretty," drawled Everett. +"Ever since I first saw you as a girl, I've wanted to know something +about you. Who's your father?"</p> + +<p>"None of yer business!" snapped Flea.</p> + +<p>"Frank again," laughed the lawyer ruefully. "Now, honestly, wouldn't you +like to be friends with me?"</p> + +<p>"No! I said I didn't like ye, and I don't! I want to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> go now. You can +sit here alone until Sister Ann comes."</p> + +<p>She looked so tantalizingly lovely, so lithely young, as she flung the +disagreeable words at him, that Brimbecomb impulsively made a step +toward her. He was unused to such treatment and manners. That this girl, +sprung from some unknown corner, dared to flaunt her dislike in his +face, made him only the more determined to conquer her.</p> + +<p>"If I wait until Sister Ann comes," he said coolly, "I shall not wait +alone. I insist that you stay here with me!"</p> + +<p>"I have to go back to my brother. So let me go by—please!"</p> + +<p>Fledra made an effort to pass Brimbecomb; but he grasped her +deliberately in his arms. Drawing her forcibly to him, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"I've caught my pretty bird! Now I'm going to kiss you!"</p> + +<p>Flea's mind flashed back to the day when Lem Crabbe had tried to kiss +her, and the thought came to her mind that she could have borne that +even better than this. She squirmed about until her face was far below +his arm, and muttered:</p> + +<p>"If you try to kiss me, I'll dig a hole in yer mug!"</p> + +<p>Half-mocking at the threat, half-inviting its fulfilment, Everett +laughed. Then, with all his strength, he forced Flea's angry, crimsoned +face up to his and closed his lips over her red mouth, kissing her again +and again. The girl struggled until she was free. In an uncontrollable +temper she thrust her hand to Everett's face, and he felt her +fingernails scrape his cheek. He released her instantly, stepping back +in a gasp of rage and surprise.</p> + +<p>Pantingly the girl rubbed her lips with her sleeve.</p> + +<p>"If Sister Ann weren't a lovin' ye," she flashed at him, "I'd tell her +how cussed mean ye be! If ye ever try to kiss me again, I'll tear yer +eyes out, Mister!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was gone before he could stop her, and, like a young fury bounded +into the presence of Flukey.</p> + +<p>"I know why I hate that feller of Sister Ann's," she muttered; "'cause +he's bad—he's a damn dog! That's what he is!"</p> + +<p>With a startled ejaculation, Floyd half-rose; but Ann's step in the hall +sent him back on the pillow gasping.</p> + +<p>Fledra sank down at the table, by effort repressing her breath. She +heard the door open, and when Miss Shellington entered her red face was +bent low over the grammar.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN"></a>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>A few seconds before, when Miss Shellington had entered the house, she +had seen Everett's shadow on the drawing-room curtain; but for the +moment her habitual concern for Floyd overrode her eagerness to be with +her lover, and she hurried to the sickroom. As was her custom, she took +the boy's hand in hers and examined him closely. With her daily +observance of him, she had learned to detect the slightest change in his +appearance. Now his flushed cheeks and racing pulse told her he was +laboring under great excitement.</p> + +<p>"Floyd," she exclaimed in dismay, "you've been talking too much! Your +face is awfully red!... Why, Fledra, I've cautioned you many times—"</p> + +<p>At the girl's apparent unconcern, Miss Shellington left the reproach +unfinished. She perceived the scarlet cheeks and flashing eyes peering +at her over the open book.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything the matter, Fledra?"</p> + +<p>The girl let her gaze fall.</p> + +<p>"You haven't been quarreling with Floyd?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, Sister Ann; Flukey and me never have words."</p> + +<p>"I should hope not," Ann replied sincerely; "but, Fledra dear, when I +speak to you, please look at me."</p> + +<p>With a shake of the black curls, Fledra lifted her face.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what is the matter with you," said Ann.</p> + +<p>A glint of steel shown in the gray eyes. Flea's lips opened to speak, +and for one moment Ann's happiness was threatened with destruction. The +girl was on the point of telling her about Everett—then Brimbecomb's +voice rang out from the reception-room.</p> + +<p>"Ann, dear! Aren't you ever coming?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fledra noticed Miss Shellington's face change as if by magic, and saw a +lovelight grow in her eyes.</p> + +<p>In silence, she received Ann's sorrowful kiss.</p> + +<p>"Little sister, I really wasn't scolding you. I was only thinking of how +careful we have to be of Floyd. I—I wish you would be kind to me!"</p> + +<p>During the painful constraint that followed, Fledra allowed Ann to leave +the room; but before she had more than closed the door the girl rose and +bounded after her. Impulsively she grasped Miss Shellington's arm and +thrust herself in front.</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann," she whispered, "I lied to ye! I was mad at Floyd, as mad +as—"</p> + +<p>Ann placed her finger on the trembling lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't say what you were going to, Dear—and remember it is as great a +sin to get into such a temper as it is to tell a story."</p> + +<p>"Ye won't tell anyone that I fibbed, will ye—Flukey or yer brother, +either?"</p> + +<p>Everett's voice called Ann again, and she replied that she was coming.</p> + +<p>Softly kissing the girl, she said:</p> + +<p>"If I loved you less, Fledra dear, I should not be so anxious about you. +But I'm so fond of you, child! Now, then, smile and kiss me!"</p> + +<p>Fledra flung her arms about the other.</p> + +<p>"I keep forgettin'. I'll try not to be bad any more." Flea turned back +into the room, as Ann hurried away at another call from Everett, and +muttered:</p> + +<p>"If I loved ye less, Sister Ann, I wouldn't have lied to ye."</p> + +<p>Floyd's eyes questioned her as she passed him.</p> + +<p>"Fluke," said she, coming to a halt, "I told Sister Ann I was mad at +you, and I wasn't. You won't tell her, will ye?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," replied Flukey wonderingly, "I won't tell her nothin'."</p> + +<p>Flea said no more in explanation, and sat again at the study table. She +was still bent over her book when Shellington opened the door and +glanced in. The boy's eyes were closed as if in sleep, and Horace +beckoned to Flea. She rose languidly and walked to him.</p> + +<p>"As your brother is sleeping, Fledra," he murmured, "come into the +library and talk to me awhile."</p> + +<p>There were traces of tears on Fledra's face when Horace ushered her into +the study.</p> + +<p>"Now, little girl, sit down and tell me about your lessons. I've been so +busy lately that I haven't had time to show you my interest.... You've +been crying, Fledra!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I got mad, and Sister Ann talked to me."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me why you became angry?" he queried.</p> + +<p>Flea had not expected this, and had no time to think of a reason for her +anger. Deliberating a moment, she placed her head on her arm. It would +be dangerous to tell him about Brimbecomb. If the bright-eyed man in the +drawing-room had only let her go before kissing her—if he had only +remembered his love for Ann! She knew Horace was waiting for her to +speak; but her mind refused absolutely to concoct a reasonable excuse, +and she could not tell him a deliberate lie, as she had to Ann.</p> + +<p>For what seemed many minutes Horace looked at her.</p> + +<p>"Fledra," he said at length, "am I worthy of your confidence?"</p> + +<p>His question brought her up with a jerk. Would she dare tell him? Would +he be silent if he knew that Sister Ann was being perfidiously used? She +was sure he would not.</p> + +<p>"If I tell you something," she began, "you won't never tell anybody?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Never, if you don't want me to."</p> + +<p>She leaned forward and looked straight at him.</p> + +<p>"I just lied to Sister Ann," she said.</p> + +<p>Horace's face paled and he grasped the arms of his chair. Presently he +asked sharply:</p> + +<p>"Why did you lie to my sister, Fledra?"</p> + +<p>"I just did, and you said you wouldn't tell."</p> + +<p>"Was it because you lied to her that you cried?"</p> + +<p>She tossed his question over in her mind. She intended to be truthful to +him, unless a falsehood were forced from her to shield Ann.</p> + +<p>"I cried because Sister Ann was so good to me."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to tell me what caused you to be untruthful?" he asked +persistently.</p> + +<p>Fledra shook her head dismally.</p> + +<p>Immeasurable compassion for the primitive, large-eyed child flooded his +soul, and his next words assumed a more tender tone.</p> + +<p>"Of course, you don't mean that you are going to keep it from me?"</p> + +<p>Her dark head suddenly dropped again, and a smothered storm of sobs drew +him closer to her. In the silence of arrested speech, he reached for her +fingers, which were twisting nervously in the webby lace on her dress. +With reluctance Flea permitted herself to be drawn from her chair.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, stand here—stand close to me!" said he.</p> + +<p>Obediently she came to his side, hiding her face in one bended arm. He +could feel the warmth of her bursting breaths, and he could have touched +the lithe body had he put out his hand. And then—and not until +then—did Horace know that he loved her. Yesterday she had seemed only a +child; but at this moment she was transformed into a woman, and his +sudden passion gave him a lover's right to pass his arm about her. In +bewilderment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> Flea checked her tears and drew back. He had never before +caressed her in any way.</p> + +<p>Horace stood up, almost mastered by his new emotion.</p> + +<p>"Fledra," he breathed, "Fledra, can't you trust me? Dear child, I love +you so!"</p> + +<p>Stunned by his words, Fledra stared at him. His voice had vibrated with +something she had never heard before. His eyes were brilliant and +pleading.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, can't you—can't you love me?"</p> + +<p>As if by strong cords, her tongue was tied.</p> + +<p>"Listen to me!" pursued Horace. "I know now I loved you that first night +I saw you—that night when you came into the room with Ann's—"</p> + +<p>He stopped at the name of his sister—he had forgotten for the moment +Flea's confession of the falsehood to her. Then the seeming injustice +done Ann turned his mind to the probing he had begun at first for the +cause of Flea's grief. Intermingled with this was a whirl of thought as +to the things that the girl had accomplished. Her entire submission to +Ann and himself, her devotion to Floyd, her desire to master the +difficult problems of her new life, all persuaded him that for his +happiness he must know the cause of her agitation. Spontaneously he +pressed his open hands to her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, Fledra! Can I believe you?"</p> + +<p>The girl lowered her head and nodded emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Do you—do you love anyone else—I mean any man?"</p> + +<p>His rapidly indrawn breath came forth with almost an ejaculation. Flea's +eyes sought his for part of a minute. Then slowly she shook her head, a +shadow of a smile broadening her lips. With effort she lifted her arms +and whispered:</p> + +<p>"I don't love anyone else—that is, no man! Be ye sure that ye love +me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>Like an impetuous boy he gathered her up, caressing her hair, her eyes, +her lips. With sudden passion he murmured:</p> + +<p>"Fledra! Fledra dear!"</p> + +<p>"I do love ye!" she whispered. "Oh, I do love ye every bit of the day, +and every bit of the night, jest like I did when you came to the +settlement and I saw ye on the shore!"</p> + +<p>Hitherto she had not told him that she had seen him in Ithaca, and he +did not understand her allusion to a former meeting. To his astonished +look, she replied by a question.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye remember one day you came to the settlement and asked the way +to Glenwood?"</p> + +<p>Horace conjured up a vision of a child of whom he had asked his road, +and remembered, in a flashing glance at the girl in his arms, that he +had inwardly commented upon the sad young face. He had noted, too, the +unusual shade in her eyes, and now he wondered vaguely that he had not +loved her then.</p> + +<p>"I remember—of course I remember! Oh, I want you to say again that you +love me, little dearest, that you love me very much!" His lips roved in +sweet freedom over her face as he continued, "You're so young, so very +young, to have a sweetheart; but if you could only begin to love me—in +a few years we could be married, couldn't we?"</p> + +<p>Flea's body grew tense with tenderness. She had never heard such +beautiful words; they meant that her Prince loved her as Ann loved +Everett, as good men loved their wives and good wives loved their +husbands. Instead of answering, she lifted a pale face intensified by +womanly passion.</p> + +<p>"Will ye kiss me?" she breathed. "Kiss me again on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> my hair, and on my +eyes, and on my lips, because—because I love ye so!"</p> + +<p>His strong avowal had opened a deep spring in her heart which overflowed +in tears. The taut arms pressed him tightly. The words were sobbed out +from a tightened young throat. The very passion in her, that abandonment +which comes from the untutored, stirred all that was primeval in him, +all the desperate longing in a soul newly born. His mouth covered hers +again and again; it sought her closed white lids, her rounded throat, +and again lingered upon her lips. After a few moments he sat down and +drew her into his arms.</p> + +<p>"Little love, my heart has never beaten for another woman—only for you, +always for you! Fledra, open your eyes quick!"</p> + +<p>The brown-flecked eyes flashed into his. Horace bent his head low and +searched them silently for some seconds.</p> + +<p>"I must be sure, Dear, that you love me. Are you very sure?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes! That's why I felt so bad tonight, when I told ye about lying +to Sister Ann." There was entreaty in her glance, and her figure +trembled in his arms. Horace started slightly. He had again forgotten +her admission.</p> + +<p>"But you will tell me all about it now, won't you, Fledra? Then we can +tell Ann and your brother about our love."</p> + +<p>Flea stood up; but Horace still kept his arm about her. Her thoughts +flew to Everett. How unfaithful he had been! Could she confide in +Horace, now that she was absolutely his? No; for he would punish Everett +even the more to the detriment of Ann. The thought set her teeth hard. +Had she been Ann, and Horace been Everett, had the man she loved been +unfaithful to the point of stealing kisses from another—She took a long +breath.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span></p> + +<p>But she was not Sister Ann, neither was Horace, Everett. In a twinkling +everything that Horace had been to her since the first day in Ithaca +flooded her heart with happiness. Her dreamy imagination, which had +enshrined him king of her life, worked with a new desire that nothing +should interfere with the love that he had showered upon her. He had +said, "Do you love me, Dearest?"</p> + +<p>The anxious question had thrilled her vibrant being to silence, had +stilled her eager tongue with the magnitude of its passion. Horace was +pleading with his eyes, imploring her to answer him. Suddenly he burst +out:</p> + +<p>"You will tell me, Dear, why you were untruthful to my sister?"</p> + +<p>Fledra pondered for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Something happened," she began, "and Sister Ann came in—I was mad—"</p> + +<p>"Were you angry at what happened?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Horace led her on.</p> + +<p>"And did Floyd know what had happened?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And then?" he demanded almost sharply.</p> + +<p>"And then Sister Ann asked me what was the matter, and I lied, and said +I was mad at Floyd."</p> + +<p>Horace still held her. This sweet possession and desire of her filled +him with serious decision. He deliberated an instant on her confession.</p> + +<p>"Now you've told me that much," said he, "I want to know what happened."</p> + +<p>"I can't tell ye," she said slowly, "I can't, and ye said that ye +wouldn't tell anybody about it."</p> + +<p>Horace's arms loosened. Surely she could have no good reason for keeping +anything from him! Suddenly he grasped her tightly to him and kissed her +again and again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course you'll tell me, of course you will! Tell me all about it. I +won't have this thing between us! I can't, I can't! I love you!"</p> + +<p>It maddened her to hear him chide her thus, filled as she was with all +the primeval qualities of the native woman to feel the strength of her +man. How his pleading touched her, how gravely his dear face expressed +an anxiety that she herself was unable to banish! Even should he send +her from him, she could not be false to Ann. To this decision the +strong, untutored mind clung, and again she refused him.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not goin' to tell you. Mebbe some day I will; but not now."</p> + +<p>She heard him take a deep breath which tore savagely at all the best +within her. It wrestled with her affection for Miss Shellington, for her +duty to Floyd's friend. Not daring to glance up, she still stood in +silence. Horace's voice shocked her with the sternness of it.</p> + +<p>"You've got to tell me! I command you! Fledra, you must!" Then, tilting +her chin upward, he continued reproachfully, "If you're going to keep +vital things from me, you can't be my wife!"</p> + +<p>The resistance against telling him grew faint in her heart in its battle +for desirable things.</p> + +<p>"Ye mean," she asked, with quick intaking of breath, "that I can't be +your woman if I don't tell you?"</p> + +<p>A flush crawled to his forehead as the rich young voice flung the +question at him. She was so maddeningly beautiful, so young and +clinging! But she must bend to his will in a thing like this! In his +desire to set her right, he answered somewhat harshly.</p> + +<p>"You must tell me; of course, you must!"</p> + +<p>Fledra threw him a glance, pleading for leniency. She had expected him +to importune, to scold, but in the end<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> to trust. Suddenly, in the +girl's imagination, Ann's gentle face bending over Floyd rose in its +loving kindness.</p> + +<p>"Then—then," she stammered, "if you won't have me, unless I tell +you—then I'll go now—please!"</p> + +<p>She left him with pathetic dignity, and her last glance showed his eyes, +too, filled with a strange pain.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN"></a>CHAPTER SIXTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>The next week held unutterable pain for Flea, each twenty-four hours +deepening her unhappiness more and more. She made no effort to talk with +Shellington, nor did she mention her sorrow to Ann. It did not seem +necessary to her that she should again speak to Horace of going away. +When she had last suggested it, he had said that nothing she could do +would alter his decision about his home being hers until Floyd should be +well. Nevertheless, an innate pride surged constantly within her. Any +deprivation would be more welcome than the studied toleration that, she +thought, she encountered in Horace.</p> + +<p>One morning she stood looking questioningly down at her brother.</p> + +<p>"How near well are ye, Fluke?"</p> + +<p>"Ain't never goin' to get well!" he replied, shivering. "'Tain't easy to +get pains out of a feller's bones when they once get in."</p> + +<p>"If you do get well soon, I think we'd better go away."</p> + +<p>"Why?" demanded Flukey.</p> + +<p>"Because we wasn't asked to stay only till you got well."</p> + +<p>"Don't ye believe it, Flea! Ye wasn't here last night. Brother Horace +and Sister Ann thought I was to sleep, and I wasn't."</p> + +<p>"What did they say?" broke in the girl, with whitening face.</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann told Mr. Shellington about yer work at school, and he +said—as how—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>Floyd waited a moment before continuing, and Flea crept closer to the +bed. She was crying softly as she knelt down and bent her face over her +brother. The boy passed his hands through the black curls.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"I want to know what my Prince said to Sister Ann."</p> + +<p>"Be ye crying about him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"Ye love him, I bet!"</p> + +<p>Flea buried her face deeper into the soft counterpane; but she managed +to make an affirmative gesture with her head.</p> + +<p>Floyd was silent, and sometime passed before he heard the girl's +smothered voice:</p> + +<p>"And I'm goin' to love him always—even after we go away!"</p> + +<p>"We ain't goin' away," said Floyd.</p> + +<p>"Who said so?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Shellington."</p> + +<p>"When?"</p> + +<p>"Last night."</p> + +<p>Fledra lifted her head and grasped the boy's thin hands in hers.</p> + +<p>"You're sure it was last night, Fluke?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I be sure. I was layin' here with my face to the wall. When Sister +Ann comes in nights, if I don't say anything, she thinks I be asleep, +and she kisses me, and I like her to do that. Last night, when she'd +done kissing me, Mr. Shellington came in, and then they talked about +us."</p> + +<p>"And he didn't say we was to go away?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Fledra rose in sudden determination, and in her excitement spoke with +swift reversion to the ancient manner.</p> + +<p>"Flukey, ye be the best da——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flukey thrust up a reproving finger which stopped the oath.</p> + +<p>"Flea!" he cautioned.</p> + +<p>"I were only goin' to say, Flukey," said Flea humbly, "that ye be the +best kid in all the world. Don't tell anybody what I said about my +Prince."</p> + +<p>She went out quickly.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>With her hand upon her heart, Flea halted before the library. She knew +that Horace was there; for she could hear the rustling of papers. At her +timid knock, he bade her enter. Her tongue clove so closely to the roof +of her mouth that for a minute she could not speak. She held out her +fingers, and Horace took them in his. His face whitened at her touch; +but he gazed steadily at her.</p> + +<p>"You've—you've something to say to me, Fledra—sweetheart?"</p> + +<p>The hope in his voice rang out clearly. Fledra nodded.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>He was determined she should explain away the black thing that had +arisen between them.</p> + +<p>"I didn't come to tell ye about what happened," said she; "but to say +that, if ye don't smile and don't touch me sometimes, I'll die—I know I +will!" Her tones were disjointed with emotion, and she felt the hands +holding hers tighten.</p> + +<p>"I can't smile when I'm unhappy, Fledra. I can't! I can't! This past +week has been almost unbearable."</p> + +<p>"It's been that way with me, too," said Flea simply.</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you make us both happy by being honest with me? If you +didn't care for me, I should have no right to force your confidence; but +you really do, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I'm never goin' to marry ye, because mebbe I can't never tell +ye. I think ye might trust me. It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> easy when ye love anyone. I say, ye +couldn't marry me without, could ye?" She seemed to suddenly grow old in +her sagacious argument. Horace shook his head sadly.</p> + +<p>"We'd never be happy, if I should," said he, "because—because I +couldn't trust you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want ye to trust me!" she wept. "I want ye to! Won't you once +more? Please do! Won't ye forget that anything ever happened—won't ye?"</p> + +<p>For a moment her supplication almost unnerved him; but he thought of +their future, of the necessity of having unlimited faith and honor +between them, and again slowly shook his head.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the twisting hands worked themselves loose from his, and in +another instant her feverish arms tightly encircled his neck. By the +weight of Flea's body, Horace Shellington knew that her feet were no +longer on the floor, each muscle in the rigid girl having so well done +its part that she hung straight-limbed against him. Close to his face +drew hers, and for a space of time, the length of which he could never +afterward accurately measure, he forgot everything but the maddening +expression in her face. Her eyelids were closed, and her breath came hot +upon his lips.</p> + +<p>"I want ye to kiss me like ye did that night—kiss me—please—please—" +In her low voice was illimitable strength and passion.</p> + +<p>Like burning rivers, his blood was driven through his veins. He flung +out his arms and crushed her to him. Just then his lips found hers.</p> + +<p>"Dear God! How I—how I love you!" he breathed.</p> + +<p>Fledra's arms relaxed and slipped from his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Then forget about what happened!" she panted.</p> + +<p>All the bitter apprehensions of the last week swept over him at her +words. His love battled with him, and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> wavered. How gladly would he +have dispelled every doubt and listened to her pleading!</p> + +<p>"But I want you to tell me, Fledra."</p> + +<p>Flea backed slowly from him.</p> + +<p>"I can't.... I can't.... I can't tell anybody!"</p> + +<p>The man ran his fingers across his forehead in bewilderment. In his +bitter disappointment he turned away.</p> + +<p>"When you come to me," his voice broke into huskiness, "when you tell me +what happened that night before you saw my sister, I shall—I shall love +you—forever!"</p> + +<p>Then came a single moment of critical silence; but it needed only the +thought of Ann for the girl to toss aside his plea and turn upon her +heel.</p> + +<p>"I don't want Sister Ann to know that I love ye," she said sulkily. "Ye +won't tell her?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, of course not—not yet!" He dropped into his chair, his head +falling forward in his hands. "I wouldn't have believed," he said from +between his fingers, "that my love for you—"</p> + +<p>Flea stopped him with an interruption:</p> + +<p>"Are ye trying to stop lovin' me?"</p> + +<p>Horace shook his shoulders, lifting swift eyes to hers. He noted her +expression irrevocable in its decision of silence. She was +extraordinarily lovely, and he grew suddenly angry that he had not the +power to change her, to draw from her unresistingly the story she had +locked from his perusal.</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish, Fledra!" he said quite harshly. "A man can't love and +unlove at will. I feel as if I should never know another happy moment!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>For several days Ann watched her brother in dismay. He had grown +taciturn and gloomy. The boyish energy had left him. She ventured to +speak to Everett about it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He doesn't seem like the same boy at all," she said sadly, after +explaining. "I can't imagine what has caused the change in him."</p> + +<p>Everett remembered Shellington's face as it had bent over Fledra, and +smiled slightly.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever thought lately that he might be in love?"</p> + +<p>"In love!" gasped Ann. "No, I know that he isn't; for it was only at the +time of the Dryden Fair that he told me he cared for no one."</p> + +<p>"He might have changed since then," Everett said quizzically.</p> + +<p>"But he hasn't met anyone lately," argued Ann. "I know it isn't +Katherine; for—for he told me so."</p> + +<p>"I know someone he met at the fair."</p> + +<p>Ann, startled, glanced up.</p> + +<p>"Who? Do tell me, Everett! Don't stand there and smile so provokingly. +If you could only understand how I have worried over him!"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb put on a grave face.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you a very pretty girl in the house who is constantly under his +eye?"</p> + +<p>Still Ann did not betray understanding.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," asked Everett slowly, "that he might have fallen in +love with—this little Fledra?"</p> + +<p>An angry sparkle gleamed in Ann's eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't be stupid, Everett. Why, she's only a child. It would be awful! +Horace has some sense of the fitness of things."</p> + +<p>Everett thought of the evening he himself had succumbed to a desire to +kiss Flea.</p> + +<p>"No man has that," he smiled, "when he is attracted toward a pretty +woman."</p> + +<p>"But she isn't even grown up."</p> + +<p>How little one woman understands another! In his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> eyes Fledra had +matured; for his masculinity had sought and found the natural opposite +forces of her sex. These thoughts he modified and voiced.</p> + +<p>"Not quite from your standpoint, Ann; but possibly from Horace's."</p> + +<p>Pale and distressed, Ann got to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Then—then, of course, she must go," she said with decision. "I can't +have him unhappy, and—Why, such a thing could—never be!"</p> + +<p>She could scarcely wait for Everett to depart; but suppressed her +anxiety and delicately turned the subject out of deference to Horace. +She listened inattentively as Brimbecomb explained some new cases that +he was soon to bring to court, and kissed him when he bade her +goodnight. Then, with beating heart, she sought her brother.</p> + +<p>Unsmilingly, Horace asked her to be seated. His face was so stern that +she dared not at once speak of the fears Brimbecomb had raised in her +mind; but at last she said:</p> + +<p>"Horace, I've been thinking since our last talk about the children—" +His sharp turn in the desk-chair interrupted her words; but she paused +only a moment before going on resolutely. "Don't you think that I might +put Floyd in a good private hospital where he would be taken care of, +and Fledra—"</p> + +<p>His face turned ashen. Her fears were strengthened, and, although her +conscience stung her, she continued, "Fledra's getting along so well +that I would be willing to put her in a boarding school."</p> + +<p>"Are you tired of them, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no—no, far from that! I love them both; but I thought it might be +pleasanter for you, if we had our home to ourselves again."</p> + +<p>Horace looked at his sister intently.</p> + +<p>"Are you keeping something back from me, Ann?" he demanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Scarcely keeping anything from you, Dear; but I want you to be happy +and not to—" Horace rose in agitation, and quick tears blurred Ann's +sight.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything I can do for you, Dearest?" she concluded.</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>Reluctantly she left him, troubled and perplexed.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Lem Crabbe had cunningly planned to keep Scraggy under his eye and +follow her to the hiding place of their son. He realized that the lad +was a man now; but so much the better. He would obtain money from him, +or he would bring him back to the scow and make him a partner in his +trade. In spite of his wickedness, Lem had a strong longing for a sight +of his child. Many times he had meditated upon the days Scraggy had +lived in the barge, and, although he had no remorse for his cruelty to +her, he had regretted the death of his boy. To be with him, he would +have to tolerate the presence of Scraggy for awhile. He felt sure that +Flea had gone from him forever, and the loneliness of his home made him +shiver as he entered it a few nights after his conversation with +Scraggy.</p> + +<p>He had been in the boat but a few moments when he heard Lon's whistle +and called the squatter in.</p> + +<p>"I thought we'd make them plans for Tarrytown," Cronk said presently. +"We might as well get to work as to be lazin' about. Don't ye think so?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I were a thinkin' of stayin' here for awhile," stuttered Lem.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' perticular."</p> + +<p>"Ye know where that rich duffer's house be what ye heard Middy Burnes +speak about?"</p> + +<p>"Yep. It ain't far from the graveyard. I thought as how we could crawl +in there while we was waitin' for night."</p> + +<p>A strange look passed across Lon's face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ye mean to hide in the cemetray?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yep. Be ye afeared?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't got no likin' for dead folks," muttered Cronk.</p> + +<p>He added nothing to this statement; but said after a moment's silence:</p> + +<p>"Scraggy ought to go dead herself some of these days, 'cause she's +allers a runnin' about in the storms. I see her ag'in tonight a startin' +out for another ja'nt. She had her bundle and her cat and was makin' a +bee line for Ithaca."</p> + +<p>Lem glanced up quickly.</p> + +<p>"I've changed my mind, Lon," he grunted. "I'll go to Tarrytown any day +yer ready."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, they took a week to prepare their burglar's kit, which they +had not used for sometime, and ten days after the slipping away of +Screech Owl, Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe left the squatter settlement and +made their way to Tarrytown.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The once happy household of the Shellingtons had turned into a gloomy +abode. Ann was nonplused at the strange behavior of her brother and the +unusual reserve of Flea. Floyd from his bedroom endeavored to bring the +home to its former cheerfulness; but, with all Ann's energies and the +boy's tireless tact, the change did not come. At length Miss Shellington +gave up trying to bring things to their usual routine. She spent her day +hours in helping Fledra with her school studies and giving Floyd simple +lessons at home. Everett came every evening, taking Ann from the +sickroom. This left Fledra free to study quietly beside her brother.</p> + +<p>One Thursday, after dinner, Horace went by invitation to Brimbecomb's +home to play billiards. Of late the young men had not passed much of +their time together; for business and the presence of Fledra and Floyd +in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> house had given Horace less time for recreation. After a silent +game they sat down to smoke. For many minutes they puffed without +speaking. Everett finally opened the conversation.</p> + +<p>"It seems more like old times to be here together again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've missed our bouts, Everett."</p> + +<p>"You've been exasperatingly conservative with your time lately!" +complained Everett. "A fellow can't get sight of you unless your nose is +poked in a book or you're in court!"</p> + +<p>Horace laughed.</p> + +<p>"Really, I've been awfully busy since—"</p> + +<p>"Since the coming of your wonderful charges!" finished Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>Horace scented a sneer. His ears grew hot with anger.</p> + +<p>"Ann has done more than I," he explained; "although there is nothing I +would not do."</p> + +<p>"I can't understand it at all, old man! Pardon me if I seem dense, but +it's almost an unheard-of thing for a fellow in your and Ann's positions +to fill your home with—beggars." His voice was low, with an inquiring +touch in it. Having gained no satisfaction from Miss Shellington, he was +seeking information from Horace.</p> + +<p>"We don't think of either one of them as beggars," interjected Horace. +"Both Ann and I have grown very fond of them."</p> + +<p>In former days the two young men had been on terms of intimacy. Everett +presumed now upon that friendship by speaking plainly:</p> + +<p>"Are you going to keep them much longer?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Horace allowed his lids to droop slowly, and looked meditatively at the +end of his cigarette without replying.</p> + +<p>"I have a reason for asking," Everett added.</p> + +<p>"And may I ask your reason?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose so. The fact is, I'm rather interested in them myself. I +thought—"</p> + +<p>Horace lifted his eyes, and the man opposite noted that they had grown +darker, that they sparkled angrily. Everett was desirous of satisfying +himself whether Horace did, or did not, care for the young girl he was +sheltering.</p> + +<p>"They don't need your interest so far as a home is concerned," Horace +said at last.</p> + +<p>Everett's face darkened as he mused:</p> + +<p>"They're lowly born, and such people were made for our servants, and not +our equals. If the women are pretty, they might act as playthings."</p> + +<p>Horace turned his eyes toward the speaker wrathfully. He wondered if he +had understood correctly what was implied by the other's words.</p> + +<p>"What did you say, Brimbecomb?"</p> + +<p>Everett drew his left leg over his right knee deliberately.</p> + +<p>"I think the girl pretty enough to make a capital toy for an hour," said +he.</p> + +<p>Disbelief flooded Shellington's face.</p> + +<p>"You're joking! You're making a jest of a sacred thing, Brimbecomb!"</p> + +<p>Everett recalled former principles of the boy Horace, and a smile +flickered on his lips.</p> + +<p>"I can't concede that," said he. "I think with a great man of whom I +read once. Deal honestly with men in business, was his maxim, keep a +clean record with your fellow citizens; but, as far as strange women are +concerned, treat them as you wish. It's a man's privilege to—to lie to +them, in fact."</p> + +<p>Without looking up, Horace broke in:</p> + +<p>"Ann has an excellent outlook for happiness, hasn't she?"</p> + +<p>"We weren't talking about Ann," snapped Everett. "I was especially +thinking of the girl in your home, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> belongs leagues beneath where +you have placed her. I won't have her there! I think my position is such +that I can make certain demands on the family of the woman I'm going to +marry."</p> + +<p>"To the devil with your position! I wouldn't give a damn for it, and +I'll take up your first question, Brimbecomb. You asked me how long I +intended to keep those children. This is my answer! As long as they will +stay, and longer if I can make them!" His voice rang vibrant with +passion. "Don't let your position interfere with what I am doing; for, +if you do, Ann, friendship, or anything won't deter me from—"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb rose to his feet and faced the other.</p> + +<p>"Threats are not in order," said he.</p> + +<p>His deliberate speech made Horace turn upon him.</p> + +<p>"I, too, intend to marry!" was his answer. "I intend to marry—Fledra +Cronk!"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb ejaculated in anger.</p> + +<p>"If you will be a fool," said he, "it's time your friends took a hand in +your affairs. I think Governor Vandecar will have something to say about +that!"</p> + +<p>"No more than you have," warned Horace. "The only regret I have is that +Ann has chosen you for her husband. I'm wondering what she would say if +I repeated tonight's conversation to her—as to a man lying to a woman."</p> + +<p>"She wouldn't believe you," replied Everett.</p> + +<p>"And you would deny that you so believed?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I told you it was my right to lie to a woman."</p> + +<p>"Then, by God! you're a greater dog than I thought you! Let me get out +of here before I smash your face!"</p> + +<p>Everett's haughty countenance flamed red; but he stepped aside, and +Horace, shaking with rage, left the house.</p> + +<p>"I think I've given him something to think about,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> muttered Everett. +"He won't be surprised by anything I do now, and I've protected myself +with Ann against him, too."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>It was only when alone with Everett that Ann felt completely at her +ease. Then she threw aside the shadow that many times dismayed her and +looked forward to her wedding day, which was to come in May. This +evening she was sitting with her betrothed under the glow of a red +chandelier.</p> + +<p>"You know, Ann, I haven't given up the idea of finding my own family," +said Brimbecomb presently. "The more I work at law, the more I believe I +shall find a way to unearth them. I told Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb that I +intended to spend part of my next year looking for them. Mrs. Brimbecomb +said she didn't know the name under which I was born. I'm convinced that +I shall find them."</p> + +<p>"I hope you do, Dear."</p> + +<p>"You don't blame me, do you, Ann, for wanting to know to whom I'm +indebted for life?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Ann slowly; "although it might not make you any happier. +That is what I most wish for you, Dearest—complete happiness."</p> + +<p>Everett lifted her delicate fingers and kissed them.</p> + +<p>"I shall have that when you are my wife," he said smoothly.</p> + +<p>Later he asked, "Did you speak with Horace of the matter that worried +you, Ann?"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington sighed.</p> + +<p>"Not in a personal way," she replied; "but I really think there is more +than either you or I know. Fledra never puts herself in Horace's way any +more; in fact, they have both changed very much."</p> + +<p>"Possibly he has told her that he cares for her, and she has—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ann shifted from him uneasily. "If Horace loves her, and has told her +so, she could not help but love him in return. She is really growing +thin with hard work, poor baby!"</p> + +<p>"Does she love Horace?" sounded Everett.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell, although I have watched her very closely."</p> + +<p>A strange grip caught Everett's heart. He could not think of the small, +dark girl without a pang of emotion. He had made no effort to see +Fledra; yet he was constantly wishing that chance would throw her in his +path. Later, he intended in some way to bring about another interview. +He dared not write her a letter, although he had gone so far as to begin +one to her, but in disgust at himself had torn it up. The fact that +Horace was unhappy pleased him, now that they had become antagonistic.</p> + +<p>The mystery clinging to Fledra haloed her for Everett beyond the point +of interest.</p> + +<p>"Ann," he said suddenly, "you haven't told me much about those +children—I mean of their past lives."</p> + +<p>"We know so little," she replied reservedly.</p> + +<p>"But more than you have told me. Have they parents living?"</p> + +<p>"A father, I think," murmured Ann.</p> + +<p>"And no mother?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Do you know where their father is?"</p> + +<p>"He lives near Ithaca, so we're told." After a silence she continued, +"We want them to forget—to forget, ourselves, all about their former +lives. I asked Horace if he wanted to place them in schools; but he +didn't want them to go away. As long as they are as good as they have +been, they're welcome to stay. Poor little things, they're nothing more +than babies, not yet sixteen!"</p> + +<p>"The girl looks older," commented Everett.</p> + +<p>"That's because she's suffered more than most girls<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> do. I'm afraid +it'll be a long time before Floyd is completely well."</p> + +<p>The conversation then drifted to that happy spring day when they would +be married.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> + <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN" id="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN"></a>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>From the window of the drawing-room in his home Everett threw a glance +into Sleepy Hollow and listened to the wind weeping its tale of death +through the barren trees. The tall monuments were as spectral giants, +while here and there a guarding granite figure reared its ghostly +proportions. But the weird scenery caused no stir of superstition in the +lawyer.</p> + +<p>In hesitation, Everett stood for some seconds, the snow falling silently +about him; for he was still under the mood that had come upon him during +Ann's parrying of his curiosity concerning the squatter children. As he +paused, the Great Dane, in the kennel at the back of the house, sent out +a hoarse bark, followed by a deep growl. So well trained was the dog +that nothing save an unfamiliar step or the sight of a stranger brought +forth such demonstrations. Everett knew this, and walked into the +garden, spoke softly to the animal, and, noting nothing unusual, ran up +the back steps. The door opened under his touch, and he stepped in. The +maids were in the chambers at the top of the house, and quietude reigned +about him. The young master went into the drawing-room, stirred the +grate fire, and sat down with a book. For many moments his eyes did not +seek its pages. His meditations took shape after shape; until, dreaming, +he allowed the book to rest on his knees.</p> + +<p>Everett was perfectly satisfied with his success as a lawyer. He had +proved to others of his profession in the surrounding county that he was +an orator of no little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> ability and preëminently able to hold his own in +the courtroom.</p> + +<p>He could not have desired or chosen a better wife than Ann promised to +be; but something riotous in his blood made him dissatisfied with +affairs as they stood now. Manlike, he reflected that, if he had been +allowed to caress Fledra as he had desired, he would have been content +to have gone on his way. He wondered many times why his heart had turned +from Ann to another. Something in every thought of Fledra Cronk sent his +blood tingling and set his heart to leaping. His dreams melted into +pleasurable anticipations, and he tried to imagine the windings of his +future path. Chance had always been kind, and he wondered whether an +opportunity to win the affections of the small, defiant girl in the +Shellington home would be given him. A strain in his blood called for +her absolute subjection—and, subdue her he would; for he felt that an +invincible passion slept in her tempestuous spirit.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, from the direction of the cemetery, an owl sent out a mournful +cry, and a furious baying from the dog behind the house sounded. He +rose, walked to the window, and surveyed the bleak view through the +curtains. He again noted the tall trees threshing in the wind, and the +looming monuments. Still under the spell of pleasant day-dreams, Everett +silently contemplated the gloomy aspect. He had forgotten the owl and +its harsh cry.</p> + +<p>So deeply was he engrossed in his meditations that he did not hear the +stealthy turning of the door-handle, and it was not until a distinct +hiss reached his ears that he turned. A woman, dripping with water, her +gray hair hanging in wet strings about a withered face, stole toward +him. Everett was so taken aback by the sight of her and the hissing, +cross-eyed cat perched on her shoulder that he could not speak. A newly +born superstition rose in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> heart that the woman was a wraith. Yet an +indistinct memory made her black eyes familiar. He did not move from the +window, and Screech Owl sank to the floor.</p> + +<p>"Little 'un," she whispered, "I've comed for ye, little 'un!"</p> + +<p>The sound of her hoarse voice stirred Everett's senses. He gave one step +forward, and the woman spoke again:</p> + +<p>"I telled yer pappy that I'd bring ye!"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb shook his shoulders, his dread deepening. What was the +witch-like woman saying to him, and why was she calling him by the name +he now remembered she had used before? She crept nearer on her knees, +her thin hands held up as if in prayer, and, with each swaying movement +of her the cat shifted its position from one stooped shoulder to the +other.</p> + +<p>Everett found his voice, and asked sharply:</p> + +<p>"How did you get into the house?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy put up her arm, drew the snarling cat under it, and looked +stupidly at the man. She was so close that he could see the steam rising +from her wet clothes, and the hisses of the animal were audible above +his own heavy breathing. Screech Owl smoothed the cat's bristling back.</p> + +<p>"Pussy ain't to hiss at my own pretty boy!" she whispered. "He's my +little 'un—he's my little 'un!"</p> + +<p>A premonition, born of her words, goaded Everett to action.</p> + +<p>"Get up!" he ordered. "Get up and get out of here! Do you want me to +have you arrested?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy smiled.</p> + +<p>"Ye wouldn't have yer own mother pinched, little 'un. I'm yer mammy! +Don't ye know me?"</p> + +<p>He moved threateningly toward her; but a snarl from the furious cat +stayed him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You lie! You crazy fool! Get up, or I'll kick you out of the house! Get +out, I say! Every word you've uttered is a lie!"</p> + +<p>"I don't lie," cried Scraggy. "Ye be my boy. Ain't ye got a long dig on +ye from—from yer neck to yer arm—a red cut yer pappy made that night I +gived ye to the Brimbecomb woman? The place were a bleedin' and a +bleedin' all through your baby dress. Wait! I'll show ye where it is." +She scrambled up and advanced toward him.</p> + +<p>Everett made as if to strike her.</p> + +<p>"Get back, I say! I would hate you if you were my mother! You can't fool +me with your charlatan tricks!"</p> + +<p>The woman sank down, whimpering.</p> + +<p>Again Everett sprang forward; but again the cat drove him back.</p> + +<p>"Go—go—now!" he muttered. "I can't bear the sight of you!"</p> + +<p>There were tones in his voice that reminded Scraggy of Lem, and her +heart grew tender as she thought of the father waiting for his child.</p> + +<p>"Ye won't hate yer pappy, if he does hate me. He wants ye, little 'un. +I've come to take ye back to yer hum. He won't hurt ye no more."</p> + +<p>Everett stared at her wildly. Was the delicious mystery that had +surrounded him for so many years, which had occupied his mind hour upon +hour, to end in this? He would not have it so!</p> + +<p>"Get up, then," he said, his lips whitening, "and tell me what you have +to say."</p> + +<p>Scraggy lifted herself up. Her boy wanted to hear more about his father, +she thought.</p> + +<p>"I gived ye to the pretty lady with the golden hair when yer pappy hurt +ye, and I knowed ye again; for the Brimbecomb's name was on the boat +that took ye. Yer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> pappy didn't know ye were a livin' till a little +while ago, and he wants ye now."</p> + +<p>"Were you married to him, this man you call my father?" demanded +Everett.</p> + +<p>Scraggy shook her head.</p> + +<p>"But that don't make ye none the less his'n, an' ye be goin' with me, ye +be!"</p> + +<p>Everett no longer hoped that the woman was either mistaken or lying. The +stamp of truth was on all she had said. He knew in his heart that he was +in the presence of his mother—this ragged human thing with wild, dark +eyes and straggling hair. And somewhere he had a father who was as evil +as she looked. For years Everett had struggled against the bad in his +nature; but at that moment he lost all the remembrance of the lessons of +his youth, of the goodness taught him by his foster father and mother. +It flashed into his mind how embarrassed Mrs. Brimbecomb had been when +he had constantly brought up the subject of his own family, and how +impatiently Mr. Brimbecomb had waved aside his petitions for +information. They should never know that he had found out the secret of +his birth, and he breathed thanks that they were not now in Tarrytown. +Neither Ann nor Horace should ever learn of the stain upon him; but the +girl with the black curls should make good to him the suffering of his +new-found knowledge! She came of a stock like himself, of blood in which +there was no good.</p> + +<p>Everett forgot the dripping woman before him as a dark thought leaped +into his mind. He could now be at ease with his conscience! Of a sudden, +he felt himself sink from the radius of Horace Shellington's life—down +to the birth level of the boy and girl next door. It dawned upon him, as +his mind swept back over his boyhood days, that Horace had ever been +better than he, with a natural abhorrence against evil.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +<img src="images/illus-167th.jpg" +alt="LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!" +title="LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!" /> +<p class='photocaption'> +<a href="images/illus-167.jpg"> +LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!</a></p> +</div> + +<p>When Scraggy again spoke, he turned burning eyes upon her. How he hated +her, and how he hated the man who called himself his father, wherever he +might be! He shut his teeth with a grit, and, unmindful of the cat, bent +over Screech Owl. He forced her head so far back that she moaned and +loosened her hold upon Black Pussy, who sprang snarling into the corner.</p> + +<p>"If you ever repeat that story to anyone, that I'm your son, I'll kill +you! Now go!"</p> + +<p>Scraggy began to cry weakly, and Black Pussy howled as if in sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, and keep that cat quiet! You'll draw down the servants. Now +listen to me! You say you're my mother—but, if you ever breathe it to +anyone, or come round here again, I shall certainly kill you!"</p> + +<p>The thoughts began to scurry wildly in Scraggy's head. Everett's threat +to kill her had not penetrated the demented brain, and his rough +handling had been her only fright. She could think of nothing but that +Lem was waiting for them at the scow.</p> + +<p>She dragged herself away from Everett, and with a torn skirt wiped her +ghastly face. She dropped the rag to grope dazedly for the cat, and +whispered:</p> + +<p>"Ye can do anything ye want to with yer ole mammy, if ye'll come back +with me to Ithaca!"</p> + +<p>"Ithaca, Ithaca!" Everett repeated dazedly. "Was that child you spoke of +born in Ithaca?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, on Cayuga Lake."</p> + +<p>"Get up, get up, or I'll—I'll—" His voice came faintly to Screech Owl, +and she moaned.</p> + +<p>The man's mind went back to his Cornell days when he had been considered +one of the richest boys in the university. His sudden degradation, the +falling of his family air-castles, made him double his fists—and with +his blow Scraggy dropped into a motionless heap.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> + +<p>His bloodshot eyes took in her prostrate form, guarded by the fluffed +black cat, and his one thought was to kill her—to obliterate her +entirely from his life. He stepped nearer, and Black Pussy's ferocious +yowl was the only remonstrance as he stirred Scraggy roughly with his +foot.</p> + +<p>The thought that her boy did not want to go with her coursed slowly +through the woman's brain. She knew that without him Lem would not +receive her. She longed for the warmth of the homely scow; she wanted +Lem and the boy—oh, how she wanted them both! She half-rose and lunged +forward. Brimbecomb's next blow fell upon her upturned face, stunning +her as she would have made a final appeal. The woman fell to the floor +unconscious, and Everett kicked Black Pussy into the hall. There was a +snarling scramble, and when he opened the front door the cross-eyed cat +bounded out into the night.</p> + +<p>Everett returned hastily to the drawing-room after a covert search of +the hall for disturbers. In the doorway he hovered an instant, and then +advanced quickly to the figure on the floor. Lifting the limp woman, he +bore her out of the house and down the slushy steps. With strength that +had come through the madness of his new knowledge, he threw the body +over into the graveyard and bounded after it. Once more then he took +Scraggy up, and, stumbling frequently in the half-light, carried her to +the upper end of the cemetery. Here he deposited the body in a +snow-filled gully by a vault. Ten minutes later he was staring at his +mirrored reflection in his own room, convinced that, if he had not +already killed her, the woman would be dead from exposure before +morning. The cat had disappeared, and all traces of the night's +visitation had been removed.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Several hours before, Lem Crabbe and Lon Cronk had slunk into Tarrytown. +The snow still fell heavily when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> they made their preparations to enter +the home of Horace Shellington. About five in the afternoon they had +worked their way against this sharp north wind to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and had entered it. Until night should fall and sleep overtake the city, +they planned to remain there quietly. Not far from the fence they took +up their station in an unused toolhouse, smoking the next hours away in +silence.</p> + +<p>When ten o'clock neared, Lem stole out; but he came back almost +immediately, cursing the wild night in superstitious fear.</p> + +<p>"The wind's full of shriekin' devils, Lon," he said, "and 'tain't time +for us to go out. Be ye afeard to try it, old man?"</p> + +<p>"Nope," replied the other; "but I wish we had that cuss of a Flukey to +open up them doors, or else Eli was here. This climbin' in windows be +hard on a big man like me and you with yer hook, Lem."</p> + +<p>Lem grunted.</p> + +<p>"I'll soon have a boy what'll take a hand in things, with us, Lon," he +said, presently. "I ain't sayin' nothin' jest yet; but when ye see him +ye'll be glad to have him."</p> + +<p>"Whose boy be he?" demanded Lon.</p> + +<p>"Ain't goin' to tell."</p> + +<p>Lon ceased questioning, dismissing the subject with a suggestion that he +himself should reconnoiter the ground. He left Lem, groped his way among +the gravestones for several yards, and brought up abruptly at the fence. +From here he eyed the Brimbecomb mansion for some minutes; then he cast +his glance to the steps of the Shellington home beyond. After a few +seconds a young man ran down the stairs, and Lon slunk back to Lem in +the toolhouse. An instant later both men were startled by the cry of an +owl. Lem rose uneasily, while Lon stared into the darkness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That weren't a real owl, were it, Lon?" Lem muttered.</p> + +<p>"Nope," growled Lon; "it sounded more like Scraggy."</p> + +<p>He looked at the one-armed man with suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Can't prove it by me," said Lem darkly.</p> + +<p>"Do ye know where she ever goes to?" demanded Cronk.</p> + +<p>Lem shook his head in negation.</p> + +<p>Crabbe dared not venture out again alone; for apprehension rose strong +within him. He knew that Scraggy had left the settlement to find their +boy. Had she come to Tarrytown for him? The two men crouched low, and +talked no more during some minutes. Finally, Lon, bidding Lem follow +him, lifted his big body, and they left the toolhouse. The squatter led +the way to the fence. They stood there for a time watching in silence. +Two shadows appeared upon a curtain of the house before them. A man was +lifting a woman in his arms, and the downward fall of her head gave +evidence of her unconsciousness. As the front door opened, the squatter +and the scowman retreated to their quarters. When Everett Brimbecomb +threw the body of Screech Owl into the cemetery, both were peering out. +They saw the man carry the figure off into the shadows, marking that he +returned alone. Neither knew that the other was Scraggy; but, with a +lust for mystery and evil, they slipped out with no word. Lon made off +to view the Shellington home once more, and Lem disappeared in the +direction from which Everett had come, easily following the tracks in +the snow. Coming within sight of the vault, Lem rounded it fearfully. On +the ground he saw the woman, and as he looked she rose to a sitting +position.</p> + +<p>Screech Owl was just recovering her battered senses. She was still +dazed, and had not heard the scowman's footsteps, nor did she now hear +the mutterings in his throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> Faintly she called to Black Pussy; but, +receiving no response from the cat, she crawled deeper into the shadows +of the vault and tried to think. Her fitful whining brought Lem from his +hiding place.</p> + +<p>"Be that you, Owl?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Yep. Where be the black cat?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno. Where ye been? And how'd ye get here?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy leaned back against the marble vault in exhaustion.</p> + +<p>"I dunno. Where be I now?"</p> + +<p>Lem bent nearer her, shaking her arm roughly.</p> + +<p>"Ye be in Tarrytown. Did ye come here for the brat?"</p> + +<p>"What brat be ye talkin' 'bout, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Our'n, Screechy. Weren't ye here lookin' for him?"</p> + +<p>Through the darkness Lem could not see the crazed expression that +flashed over Scraggy's face. She thrust her fingers in her hair and +shivered. The blow of Everett's fist had banished all memory of the boy +from her mind; but Lem lived there as vividly as in the olden days.</p> + +<p>"We ain't got no boy, Lem," she said mournfully.</p> + +<p>"Ye said we had, Screechy, and I know we have. Now, get up out of that +there snow, or ye'll freeze."</p> + +<p>The scowman helped Screech Owl to her feet, and supported her back over +the graves to the toolhouse.</p> + +<p>"Ye stay here till I come for ye, Scraggy, and don't ye dare go 'way no +place. Do ye hear?"</p> + +<p>Screech Owl uttered an obedient assent, and Lem left her with a threat +that he would beat her if she moved from the spot. Then he crawled along +the Brimbecomb fence, and saw Lon leaning against a tree, some distance +down the road.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_NINETEEN" id="CHAPTER_NINETEEN"></a>CHAPTER NINETEEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>After Everett's departure, Ann tripped into Floyd's room in a happier +state of mind than had been hers for several days. It had been her habit +to kneel beside the boy at night and send up a petition for his +recovery. Now she would thank God for his goodness to her,—Everett had +come to be more like himself, and Floyd's welcoming smile sent a thrill +of joy through her. As Ann entered, Fledra looked up from her book. Her +pale, beseeching face drew Miss Shellington to her.</p> + +<p>"Fledra dear, you study too late and too hard. You don't look at all +well."</p> + +<p>"I keep tellin' her that same thing, Sister Ann," said Floyd; "but she +keeps mutterin' over them words till I know 'em myself."</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington turned Fledra's face up to hers, smoothing down the +dark curls.</p> + +<p>"Go to bed, child; you're absolutely tired out. Kiss me goodnight, +Dear."</p> + +<p>Fledra loitered in the hall until she heard Miss Shellington leave +Floyd; then she stole forward.</p> + +<p>"Will you come to my room a little while, Sister Ann?"</p> + +<p>Without a word, Ann took the girl's hand; together they entered the blue +room.</p> + +<p>Fledra wheeled about upon Miss Shellington, when the door had been, +closed.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe all those things you pray about, Sister Ann?" she +appealed brokenly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ann questioned Fledra with a look; the girl made clearer her demand by +adding:</p> + +<p>"Do you believe that Jesus hears you when you ask Him something you want +very, very bad?"</p> + +<p>She looked so miserable, so frail and lonely, that Ann put her arms +about her.</p> + +<p>"Sit down here with me, Fledra. There! Put your little tired head right +here, and I'll tell you all I can."</p> + +<p>"I want to be helped!" murmured Fledra.</p> + +<p>"I've known that for sometime," Ann said softly; "and I'm so happy that +you've come to me!"</p> + +<p>"It's nothin' you can do; but I was thinkin' that perhaps Jesus could do +it."</p> + +<p>Ann pressed the girl closer.</p> + +<p>"Is it something you can't tell me?"</p> + +<p>Fledra nodded.</p> + +<p>"And you can't tell my brother?"</p> + +<p>The girl's nervous start filled Ann with dismay; for now she knew that +the trouble rested with Horace. She waited for an answer to her +question, and at length Fledra, crestfallen, blurted out:</p> + +<p>"I can't tell anybody but—"</p> + +<p>"Jesus?" whispered Ann.</p> + +<p>"Yes; and I don't know how to tell Him."</p> + +<p>Ann thought a moment.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, if you wanted someone to do something for you, about which that +person knew nothing, wouldn't you have to tell it before it could be +granted?"</p> + +<p>Fledra nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then, that's what you are to do tonight. You are to kneel down here +when I am gone, and you are to feel positively sure that God will help, +if you ask Him in Jesus' name. Do you think you have faith enough to do +that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know what faith is," replied Fledra in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what it is, Dear. Now, then, don't you remember how my +brother and I prayed for Floyd?"</p> + +<p>Fledra pressed Ann's arm.</p> + +<p>"And don't you remember, Dear, that almost immediately he was helped?"</p> + +<p>"You had a doctor," said Fledra slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for a doctor is God's agent for the good of mankind; but we had +faith, too. And in something like this—Is your trouble illness?"</p> + +<p>"Only here," answered Flea, laying her hand upon her heart.</p> + +<p>Ann could not force Flea's confidence; so she said:</p> + +<p>"Then if it is impossible to confide in Horace, or in me, will you pray +tonight, fully believing that you will be answered? You must remember +how much Jesus loved you to come down to suffer and die for you."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe I thought that story was true, Sister Ann." Fledra drew +back, and looked up into Ann's shocked face as she spoke, "I shouldn't +say I believed it if I didn't, should I?"</p> + +<p>"No, Darling; but you must believe—you surely must! You must promise me +that you will pray first for faith, then for relief, and tomorrow you +will feel better."</p> + +<p>"I promise," answered Fledra.</p> + +<p>For many minutes after Ann had left her, the girl lay stretched out upon +the bed. Her heart pained her until it seemed that she must go directly +to Horace and confess her secret.</p> + +<p>She got up slowly at last, and, kneeling, began a whispered petition. It +was broken by sobs and falling tears, by writhings that tore the tender +soul offering it.</p> + +<p>Fledra prayed for Horace, and then stopped.</p> + +<p>After a time she rose, having done all a girl could do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> for those she +loved, and, undressing, slowly crawled into bed. Through the darkness as +she lay looking upward she tried to imagine what kind of a being God +was, wondering if He were kindly visaged, or if, when His earthly +children sinned, He looked as Horace had looked when she confessed the +lie told to Ann. In her imagination, she framed the Savior of the world +like unto the man she loved when he smiled upon her, and then she +believed, and believed mightily. In likening Jesus to Horace—in +bringing the Savior nearer through the lineaments of her loved one—she +gathered out of her unbelief a great belief that He could, and would, +smooth away all the troubles that had arisen in her life.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>That night she turned and tossed for several hours, praying and weeping, +weeping and praying, until from sheer fatigue she lay perfectly quiet. +Suddenly she sat up and listened. The stupor of slumber dulled her +hearing, and she struggled to catch again the sound that had awakened +her. From somewhere across the hall she heard a faint click, click, +which sounded as though some mechanic's tool were being used.</p> + +<p>Fledra slipped from the bed and opened the door stealthily. She crept +along the hall in her bare feet, terrified by the muffled sound, and +stopped before the velvet curtains that were drawn closely across the +dining-room doorway. Someone was tampering with the silver chest.</p> + +<p>For a moment terror almost forced Fledra back to her room without +investigating; but the thought that somebody was stealing Ann's precious +family plate caused her to slip her fingers between the curtains and +peep in.</p> + +<p>The lock of the steel safe was lighted by the rays of a dark-lantern, +and Fledra could see two shadowy figures on the floor before it. One +held the light, while the other turned a small hammer machine containing +a slender drill.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> The girl did not have the courage to scream a warning +to Horace and the servants, and before she could move of a sudden one of +the men whispered:</p> + +<p>"The damn thing is harder'n hell, Lem. I guess I'll take a crack at this +here hinge."</p> + +<p>The name awoke the senses of the trembling girl, and instantly she knew +the man who had spoken to be Lon Cronk. A chill gathered round her heart +and froze the very marrow in her bones. She dropped the curtain and fled +back to her room. Standing against the door, she pressed her hands over +her face to stifle the loud breathing. Lem and Lon were robbing the +house! She would be forced then to let thieves have the contents of the +safe; for, if Pappy Lon knew that she and Flukey were housed there, he +would take them away. But, if he made off with the plate, no one would +ever know who had done it, and her sick brother would still be safe in +Ann's care.</p> + +<p>"I won't go to 'em. I won't! I won't! They can take the whole thing for +all of me!"</p> + +<p>She turned sharply as though she had heard a voice that had made answer +to her. With her faculties benumbed by the terror of the men in the +dining-room, and yet remembering that her grief had been subdued, she +turned her face upward, and fancied she saw the Christ-man, so like +Horace, descending into the room. But the face, instead of smiling at +her, looked melancholy and sad.</p> + +<p>It was the dawn of a lasting belief in the Son of God, her first real +vision of Him. She gazed steadily at the beautiful apparition, and then +said haltingly:</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' back to stop 'em, and if Pappy Lon takes me back to the +squatter settlement then help me if ye can, dear Jesus!"</p> + +<p>The struggle was over, and with rigid desperation Fledra again opened +the door and stepped into the hall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> Gliding swiftly along to the +entrance of the dining-room, she flung aside the curtains and appeared +like a shade before Lem and Lon.</p> + +<p>The squatter saw her first; but in the semidarkness did not recognize +her. He lifted his arm, and a flash of steel sent her trembling +backward.</p> + +<p>"Don't open yer mug, Kid, or I'll shoot yer head off!"</p> + +<p>Then he recognized her, and stepped back to Lem's side.</p> + +<p>"It's Flea, it's Flea Cronk!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>The girl advanced into the room.</p> + +<p>"What do you want here, Pappy Lon? Did you come to steal?"</p> + +<p>She saw Lem grimacing at her through the rays of the lantern. The +scowman looked so evil, so awful, as he grinningly raised his steel +hook, that her faith very nearly fled. Crabbe's heavy face was working +with violent emotion. His full neck moved with horrid convulsions, while +a discord of low noises came from his throat. The girl, clad in her +white nightgown, under which he could trace the slender body, filled him +again with passionate longing.</p> + +<p>"By God! it's little Flea!" he exclaimed at last.</p> + +<p>"Yep," threw back Lon. "We found somethin' we didn't expect—eh, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Did you come to steal?" Fledra demanded again, this time looking at the +canalman.</p> + +<p>"Yep; but we didn't know that you was here, Flea."</p> + +<p>"Then you won't take anything—now, will you?"</p> + +<p>"We don't go till you come with us, Flea!" Lon moved nearer her as he +spoke. "Ye be my brat, and ye'll come home with yer pappy!"</p> + +<p>Fledra choked for breath.</p> + +<p>"I can't go with you tonight," she replied, bending over in +supplication. "Flukey's sick here, and I have to stay."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sick! Sick, ye say?" Cronk exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's been in bed ever since we left home, and he can't walk, and I +won't go without him."</p> + +<p>"I'll take ye both," said Lon ferociously. "I'll come after ye, and I'll +kill the man what keeps ye away from me! I'm a thinkin' a man can have +his own brats!"</p> + +<p>Fledra did not set up an argument upon this point. She wanted to get the +men out of the house, so that she might think out a plan to save her +brother and herself.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll have to let Flukey stay until he gets well, and then mebbe we'll +come back."</p> + +<p>"There ain't no mebbe about it," growled Lon. "Ye'll come when I say it, +and Lem ain't through with ye yet, nuther! Be ye, Lem?"</p> + +<p>Never, since the children had left his hut, had Lon felt such a desire +to torture them. The dead woman seemed to call out to him for revenge. +The wish for the Shellington baubles and the money he might find was +nothing compared to the delight he would feel in dragging the twins back +to Ithaca. Granny Cronk was there no longer, and everything would go his +way! He put out his hand and touched Crabbe.</p> + +<p>"We ain't goin' to steal nothin' in this house, Lem," he said sullenly; +"but I'll come tomorry and take the kids. Then we be done with this +town. Ye'll get yer brother ready by tomorry mornin'. Ye hear, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Flea dully.</p> + +<p>"If Flukey be too sick to walk, he can ride. I've got the money, and all +I want be you two brats, and, if ye don't come when I tell ye to, then +it'll be worse for them what's harborin' ye. And don't ye so much as +breathe to the man what owns this house that we was here +tonight—or—I'll kill Flukey when I get him back to the shanty!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>His glance took in the beautiful room, and, unable to suppress a smile, +he taunted:</p> + +<p>"I'm a thinkin' ye'll see a difference 'tween the hut and this +place—eh, Flea?"</p> + +<p>"And between this and the scow," chuckled Lem.</p> + +<p>"Yep, 'tween this an' the scow," repeated Lon. "Come on, Lem. We'll go +now, an' tomorry we'll come for ye, Flea. No man ain't no right to keep +another man's kids."</p> + +<p>Fledra's past experiences with her squatter father were still so vivid +in her mind that she made no further appeal to him; for she feared to +suffer again the humiliation of a blow before Lem. She stood near the +table, shivering, her teeth chattering, and her body swaying with fright +and cold. To whom did she dare turn? Not to Ann or to Horace; for Lon +had forbidden it. To tell Flukey would only make him very ill again. Lon +was advancing toward her as these thoughts raced through her mind. She +drew back when he thrust out one of his horny hands.</p> + +<p>"I ain't a goin' to hit ye, Flea; but I'm goin' to make ye know that I +ain't goin' to have no foolin', and that ye belong to me, and so does +Flukey, and that, when I come for ye, ye're to have yer duds ready."</p> + +<p>Lem neared the open window, and Lon turned to follow him.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>For fully three minutes after they had gone, the girl stood watching the +black hole through which they had disappeared, where now the snow came +fluttering in. Then she crept forward and lowered the window +noiselessly. With swift footsteps she ran back through the hall and into +the bedroom. After turning on the light, she drew on a dressing-gown and +slipped her feet into a pair of red slippers.</p> + +<p>Somewhere from the story above came the sound of foot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>falls, and then +the creaking of stairs. The girl stood holding her hand over her beating +heart. A servant, or possibly Ann, had heard the noises and was coming +down. Suddenly into her mind came the prayer Floyd loved.</p> + +<p>"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little child."</p> + +<p>She said the words over several times; but had ceased whispering when a +low knock came upon her door. She opened it, and saw Horace standing in +his dressing-gown and slippers. For a moment she looked at him with +almost unseeing eyes, and her lips moved tremulously, as if she would +speak and could not. Horace, noticing her agitation, spoke first.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, I thought I heard you. I looked down and saw a light shining +from your window. Is anything the matter?"</p> + +<p>Fledra could not find her voice to reply. She had not expected him, and, +locking her fingers tightly together, she stood wide-lidded and +trembling.</p> + +<p>"Were you speaking to someone?" asked Horace.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I was. I was speaking to Jesus just before you came. I was asking +Him to help me."</p> + +<p>The man looked at the red gown hanging over her white nightrobe, the +tossed black curls, and the pale, sensitive face before he said:</p> + +<p>"Fledra, whatever is the matter with you? Surely, there is something I +can do."</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann said I would be happier, and we all would, if I asked Jesus; +and I was askin' Him jest now."</p> + +<p>Horace eyed her dubiously.</p> + +<p>"It is right to ask Him to help you, of course; but, child, it isn't +right for you to act toward me as you do."</p> + +<p>Fledra was so desirous of his love and confidence that she made as if to +speak. She took two steps forward, then hesitated. Remembering Ann and +the care she had given<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> Floyd, her hand fell convulsively on the door, +and she tried to close it. She dared not tell him of Lon's midnight +visit to the home, and wondered if he would give her up to her squatter +father, and let Flukey be taken back to the settlement.</p> + +<p>"I told ye the truth when I said I was prayin'," she said; "but I was +thinkin', too, if it was right for a father to have his own children, if +he was to ask for 'em."</p> + +<p>Horace, not understanding her enigmatical words, regarded her gravely.</p> + +<p>"What a queer girl you are, anyway, Fledra!" he exclaimed. He spoke +almost irritably. He felt like grasping her up and shaking her as one +might an obstreperous child.</p> + +<p>His moody silence made Fledra repeat her words.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Horace answered; "but, I suppose, +if a father's children were being kept from him, he could take them if +he wished. Fledra, look at me!"</p> + +<p>She raised her gaze slowly, her somber eyes smiting the watching man as +might a blow. Her beseeching expression arrested the bitter speech that +rose to his lips. As the memory of her hard work gripped him, he bent +forward and took her slim, cold hand in his.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, I want you to pay attention to what I am going to say. I feel +sure that you want to be a good girl. If I were not, I could not bear +it. Even if you don't trust me, I'm going to help you all I can, +anyway."</p> + +<p>"And pray," gasped Fledra, "pray, Brother Horace, that I can be just +what you want me to be, and that I can stay with Floyd in your house!"</p> + +<p>The girl closed the door quickly in his face, and Shellington moved +slowly away, racking his brain for some solution of the problem.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>With their minds in a perturbed state, Lem and Lon passed silently back +into the cemetery. The shock of the girl's appearance had awed them +both. They were nearing the toolhouse before Scraggy came into Lem's +mind.</p> + +<p>The whole situation was changed, now that Flea was coming to him. It was +the same to him whether she wanted to come or not; nor did it matter +that he had promised Screech Owl that she should be in the scow. He +still wanted his boy to help him with his work; but Scraggy was a person +wholly out of his life.</p> + +<p>The two men halted in front of the shed.</p> + +<p>"There be a woman in there," said Lem in a low voice.</p> + +<p>"What woman?" asked Lon.</p> + +<p>"Scraggy."</p> + +<p>"Scraggy! How'd she come in here?"</p> + +<p>"I took her in," said Lem. "She were the woman what that guy throwed +over the fence."</p> + +<p>Lon pushed his companion aside and pressed through the small doorway. He +cast the light of the lantern about; but no Screech Owl was in sight.</p> + +<p>"If Scraggy was over here, Lem," he said doubtfully, "then she's gone. +We'd better scoot and get a place to stay all night."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Fledra entered the breakfast room it was evident to both Ann and +Horace that she had had no sleep. Dark rings had settled under her eyes. +The girl had decided that Lon would make good his threat against the +person who should try to keep his children from him, and, if she went to +school, Lem and her father might come when she was gone. As they rose +from the table, she said sullenly:</p> + +<p>"I'm not goin' to school any more. I don't like that place. I want to +stay at home."</p> + +<p>"Are you ill, Dear?" asked Ann, coming forward.</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not sick; but I can't go to school."</p> + +<p>Horace's brow darkened.</p> + +<p>"That's hardly the way to speak to my sister, Fledra," he chided gently.</p> + +<p>Ann glanced at him in appeal. Fledra was standing before them, and her +eyes dropped under his words.</p> + +<p>"If I asked you to let me stay home," she said in a low tone, "you'd +both say I couldn't; so I just had to say that I won't go."</p> + +<p>Fledra knew no other way to stand guard over the houseful of loved ones. +If Lon were to come while she was gone, he might take her brother. If +she told Horace that thieves had entered his home, and if she named +them, that would draw fatal consequences down on Floyd. She could only +hold her peace and let matters take their course. At any rate, she did +not intend to go to school. Now she cast a quick glance at Ann; but kept +her eyes studiously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> from Horace. Noting Miss Shellington's entreating +face, Fledra flung out her hands.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to be mean," she said quickly; "but I want you to let me +stay home today. Can I? Please, can I?"</p> + +<p>"There! I knew that you'd apologize to my sister," Horace said, smiling.</p> + +<p>At this, Fledra turned upon him. He had never felt a pair of eyes affect +him as did hers. How winsomely sweet she was! It came over him in a +flash that he had not dealt quite justly with her; so he smiled again +and held out his hands.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>During the morning Fledra crept ghostlike about the house. She strained +her eyes, now at one window and then at another, for the first glimpse +of Lon. The luncheon hour came and passed, and still the thieves gave no +sign of coming. Horace had returned from his office early in the +afternoon, and was smoking a cigar in the library, when suddenly a loud +peal of the doorbell roused him. Fledra, too, heard it distinctly. She +was sitting beside Floyd; but had not dared to breathe their danger to +him. Her cheeks paled at the sound, and she rested silent until +presently summoned to the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked her brother.</p> + +<p>"Nothin', Fluke, lay down, and if ye hear anyone talkin' keep still. +Somebody's coming."</p> + +<p>"Somebody comes every day," answered Floyd. "That ain't nothin'. What ye +doin', Flea?"</p> + +<p>She was standing at the door with her ear to the keyhole. She heard the +servant pass her, heard the door open, and Lon's voice asking for Mr. +Shellington. Then she slid back to Flukey, trembling from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"Ye're sick, Dear," said the boy. "Get off this bed, Snatchet! Lay down +here by me, Flea and rest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl dropped down beside him and closed her eyes with a groan. Floyd +placed his thin hand upon her, and Fledra remained silent, until she was +summoned to the drawing-room.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>"Who wanted me?" Horace asked the question of the mystified servant.</p> + +<p>"I didn't catch the name, Sir. I didn't understand it. He's a +dreadful-looking man."</p> + +<p>Horace rose, put down his cigar, and walked into the hall.</p> + +<p>Lon Cronk was waiting with a shabby cap in his hand. He bowed awkwardly +to Shellington, and essayed to speak; but Horace interrupted:</p> + +<p>"Do you wish to see me?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," answered Lon, glancing sullenly over the young lawyer. "I've come +for my brats."</p> + +<p>"Your what?"</p> + +<p>"My kids, Flea and Flukey Cronk."</p> + +<p>Horace felt something clutch at his heart. Fledra's radiant face rose +before his mental vision, and he swallowed hard, as he thought of her +relation to the brutal fellow before him.</p> + +<p>"Walk in here, please," he said.</p> + +<p>Then he bade the servant call his sister.</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington obeyed the summons so quickly that her brother was +indicating a chair for the squatter as she walked in. At sight of the +uncouth stranger she glanced about her in dismay.</p> + +<p>"Ann," said Horace, "this is the father—of—"</p> + +<p>Ann's expression snapped off his statement. She knew what he would say +without his finishing. She remembered the stories of terrible beatings, +and the story of Fledra's fear of a wicked man who wanted her for his +woman. The boy's words came back to her plainly. "And he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> weren't goin' +to marry her nuther, Mister, and that's the truth." Nevertheless, she +stepped forward, throwing a look from her brother to the squatter.</p> + +<p>"But he can't have them—of course, he can't have them!"</p> + +<p>Lon had come with a determination to take the twins peaceably if he +could; he would fight if he had to. He had purposely applied to +Shellington in his home, fearing that he might meet Governor Vandecar in +Horace's office. As long as everyone thought the children his, he could +hold to the point that they had to go back with him. He would make no +compromise for money with the protectors of his children; for he had +rather have their bodies to torment than be the richest man in the +state. He had not yet avenged that woman dead and gone so many years +back. At thought of her, he rose to his feet and smiled at Ann with +twitching lips.</p> + +<p>"Ye said, Ma'm, that I couldn't have my brats. I say that I will have +'em. I'm goin' to take 'em today. Do ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"He can't have them, Horace. Oh! you can't say yes to him!"</p> + +<p>Horace's mind turned back to Fledra, and he mentally blessed the +opportunity he had to protect her.</p> + +<p>"I don't think, Mr. Cronk, that you will take your children," he said, +"even granted that they are yours. I'm not sure of that yet."</p> + +<p>Lon's brown face yellowed. Had they discovered the secret that he had +kept all the dark, revengeful years?</p> + +<p>Horace's next words banished that fear: "I shall have to have you +identified by one of them before I should even, consider your +statement."</p> + +<p>Cronk smiled in relief; and Ann shuddered, as she thought of Flukey's +frail body in the man's thick, twisting fingers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That be easy enough to do. Jest call the gal—or the boy."</p> + +<p>"The boy is too ill to get up," said Ann huskily; "and I beg of you to +go away and leave them with us. You don't care for them—you know you +don't."</p> + +<p>"Who said as how I don't care for my own brats?"</p> + +<p>"The little girl told me the night she came here that you hated her, and +also that you abused them."</p> + +<p>"I'll fix her for that!" muttered Lon.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you'll touch her while she is with me," said Horace +hotly. "I shall send for the girl, and, if you are their father, then—"</p> + +<p>"They can't go!" cried Ann.</p> + +<p>"I haven't said that they could go, Ann. I was just going to say to Mr. +Cronk that if they wanted to go of course we couldn't keep them. +Otherwise, there is a remedy for him." Horace leaned over toward the +squatter and threw out his next words angrily, "There's the law, Mr. +Cronk! Ann, please call Fledra."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The girl responded with the weight of the world on her. Had some +arrangements been made for her and Floyd between Horace and Lon? She +knew that Ann was there, and that Mr. Shellington had been talking with +the squatter long enough to decide what should be done. She walked +slowly to the door, her head spinning with anxiety and fear. For one +single moment she paused on the threshold, then stepped within.</p> + +<p>Drop by drop, the color went from her cheeks, leaving them waxen white. +She threw the squatter an unbending opposing glance.</p> + +<p>"Did you come for Fluke and me, Pappy Lon?" she stammered.</p> + +<p>Her lips trembled perceptibly; but she went forward, and, taking Ann's +hand in hers, stood facing Cronk.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lon looked her over from head to foot. First, his gaze took in the +pretty dark head; then it traveled slowly downward, until for an instant +his fierce eyes rested on her small feet.</p> + +<p>"Yep," he replied, raising a swift look, "I comed for ye both—you and +Flukey, too. Go and git ready!"</p> + +<p>Fledra dared not appeal to Horace. He stood so quietly in his place, +making no motion to speak, that she felt positive that he wished her to +go away. She was too dazed to count up the sum of her troubles. Her face +fell into a shadow and grew immeasurably sad. Lon was glowering at her, +and she read his decision like an open page. The dreadful opposition in +his shaggy brown eyes spurred Fledra forward; but Ann's arms stole about +her waist, and the slender figure was drawn close. A feeling of +thanksgiving rushed over the girl. How glad she was that she had kept +the secret of Everett's unfaithfulness!</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann," she gasped, "can't ye keep us from him? Fluke nor me don't +want to go, and Pappy Lon don't like us, either. I couldn't go—I'd +ruther die, I would! He'd make me go to Lem's scow! Ye can see I can't +go, can't you?" She wheeled around and looked at Horace, her eyes filled +with a frightened appeal. Shellington's glance was compassionate and +tender.</p> + +<p>"I not only see that you can't go," said he; "but I will see to it that +you don't go. Mr. Cronk, I shall have to ask you to leave my house."</p> + +<p>"I don't go one step," growled Lon, "till I get them kids! Where's +Flukey?" He made a move toward the door; but Horace thrust his big form +in front of him.</p> + +<p>"The boy shall not know that you are here," said he. "I shall keep it +from him because he's ill, and because a great worry like this might +seriously harm him. It might even kill him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lon's temper raced away with his judgment.</p> + +<p>"What do I care if he dies or not? I'm goin' to have him, dead or +alive!"</p> + +<p>Shellington noted the hatred and menace in the other's tones, and he +smiled in triumph.</p> + +<p>"It's about as I thought, Mr. Cronk. You care no more for these children +than if they were animals. That statement you just made will go against +you at the proper time, all right. Please go now, and remember what I've +said, that you have the law. And remember another thing: if you do +fight, I shall bring everything I can find against you, if I have to ask +the aid of Governor Vandecar. I see no other course open to you. +Good-day, Sir."</p> + +<p>Cronk glared about until his gaze rested upon the two girls. His eyes +pierced into the soul of Fledra. She shuddered and drew closer to Miss +Shellington. The squatter walked toward the door, and once more looked +back, an evil expression crossing his face and settling in deep lines +about his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Ye remember what I told ye, Flea, the last time I seed ye! I meant what +I said then, and I say it over again!"</p> + +<p>The emphasis upon the words struck terror to Fledra's sensibilities. +But, with new courage in her eyes, she advanced a step, and, raising a +set face, replied:</p> + +<p>"Ye can't have us, Pappy Lon—you can't! I'll take care of Flukey, and +Mr. Shellington'll take care—of—me."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Horace set his teeth firmly as he closed the door, upon Cronk. Through +the door window he saw the squatter take his lumbering way down the +steps, and noticed that the man paused and looked back at the house. The +heavy face was black with baffled rage, and Lon raised his fist and +shook it threateningly. If Horace had been determined in the first +instant that the squatter should not get possession of the twins, he was +now many times more resolute to keep to his decision. For his life, he +could not imagine Lon Cronk the father of his young charges.</p> + +<p>He returned to the drawing-room, and found Ann and Fledra still +together, the girl's face hidden in Miss Shellington's lap.</p> + +<p>"Horace," cried Ann, "there can't be any way in which he can take them, +can there? He didn't tell you how he found out they were here, did he?"</p> + +<p>"No, I forgot to ask him, and it doesn't matter about that. Our only +task now will be to keep them from him. Fledra, when you have finished +talking with Ann, will you come to me?"</p> + +<p>Fledra raised her head. Something in Horace's eyes frightened her. She +had never seen him so pale, nor had his lips ever been so set and white.</p> + +<p>Ann rose quickly. Of late Horace's actions had aroused her suspicions. +She was now fully convinced that Everett had been right. Moreover, she +had come to feel that she would willingly overlook Fledra's birth, if +her brother's intentions were serious.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go to him now, and trust—have faith that you will not have to go +away!"</p> + +<p>Fledra kissed Ann's hands and tremblingly followed Shellington into his +study.</p> + +<p>She sat down without waiting for an invitation; for her legs seemed too +weak to hold her. Her attitude was attentive, and her poise was +graceful. For some minutes Horace arranged the papers on his desk, while +Fledra peeped at him from under her lashes. He looked even sterner than +when he had ordered Lon to leave the house, and his silence terrified +her more than if he had scolded her. At last he turned quickly.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, I've asked you to come here, because I can't stand our troubles +any longer. I believe in my soul that you love me; for you have told me +so, and—and have given me every reason to hope it. We are facing a new +danger, both for you and for Floyd, and I am sure you want to help me +all you can." He paused a moment, and went on, "Your suffering is over +as far as your own people are concerned. There is no law that can force +a child as old as you are to return to such a hateful place, and I shall +take it upon myself to see that neither you nor your brother is forced +to leave here."</p> + +<p>Fledra uttered a cry and half-rose to her feet; but, as Horace continued +speaking, she sank down.</p> + +<p>"I think it probable that we shall have to go to law, for Mr. Cronk +looks like a very determined man; but he'll find that I will fight his +claim every inch of the way." Shellington bent toward her and rested a +hand on the papers he had been sorting. "I'm very glad you didn't go to +school today, and you must not go again until it is over. This man may +try to kidnap you." He found it impossible to call Lon her father.</p> + +<p>Fledra reached out and grasped his hands. At her touch, Horace flushed +to the roots of his hair. Loosen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>ing his own fingers, he took hers into +his. Finally he drew her slowly round the corner of the desk, close into +his arms.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, for God's sake, tell me what has made you so unhappy! Will you, +child? Isn't it something that I ought to know? Poor little girly, don't +cry that way! It breaks my heart to hear you!"</p> + +<p>There was inexplicable weariness on the fair young face.</p> + +<p>"I want to stay here," moaned Flea; "but what I have that hurts me is +here." She drew his fingers close over her heart. "It isn't anything +anybody can help—just yet."</p> + +<p>"I could help you, Fledra," Horace insisted. "Every man has the power +to help the woman he loves, and you are a woman, Fledra."</p> + +<p>"I want to be your woman."</p> + +<p>Young as she was, Fledra was an enigma to him. There was but one way to +make her his woman,—his wife,—that was to force her confidence, and, +once obtained, keep it. But his longing to caress her was stronger than +his desire to conquer her,—the warmth and softness of her lips he would +not exchange for the world's wealth!</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart, Sweetheart!" he said, reddening. "I'm sorry that I spoke as +I did last night,—I was angry,—but I've had such awful moods lately! +Sometimes I've felt as if I could whip you to make you tell me!"</p> + +<p>A thrill ran over Fledra from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"Beat me—will you beat me?" she murmured, drawing his hand across her +moist lips. "I'd love to have you beat me! Pappy Lon always said that a +woman needed beatin' to make her stand around. Then, when I saw you, I +thought as how princes never beat their women; but now I know you have +to."</p> + +<p>If the young face had been less earnest, the gray eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> less entreating, +Horace would have laughed despite his anger.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I shan't whip you, child," he said; "only I want you to +prove your love for me by trusting me. You're a woman, Fledra. It would +be an outrage to punish you that way. Then, too, I love you too well to +hurt you."</p> + +<p>She watched him for one tense moment. She was quivering under his firm +grasp like a leaf in the wind. Her eyes were entreating him to trust +her, to take her, regardless of her seeming stubbornness.</p> + +<p>"Fledra," he whispered, "if the time ever comes that you can, will you +tell me all about it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you'll not lie again?"</p> + +<p>"I've never lied to you!" came sullenly.</p> + +<p>"Never, Fledra?"</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>"And you won't tell another untruth to Ann, either—- not even once?"</p> + +<p>Fledra's mind flashed to Everett. She might have to lie to keep Ann's +happiness for her. She slowly drew her hand away, and turned fretfully +with a hatred against Brimbecomb for bringing all this misery upon them.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to promise you that I won't lie to Sister Ann; but I'll +tell you the truth, always—always—"</p> + +<p>Because he did not understand a woman's heart, Horace opened the door, +white and angered.</p> + +<p>"It is beyond my comprehension that you should treat a woman as you have +my sister. You take advantage of her generosity, and expect me to uphold +you in it!"</p> + +<p>There was a catch of genuine sorrow in his voice. Slowly Fledra looked +back over her shoulder at him.</p> + +<p>"You've promised me that you'd never tell anybody what I told you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace supplemented his last rebuke with:</p> + +<p>"Nor will I! But I insist that you come to me the next time you are +tempted to lie. Do you hear, Fledra?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she began to sob wildly, and in another instant fled down the +hall.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</h3> +</div> + +<p>Not more than two weeks after Lon had demanded the twins from Horace, +Everett Brimbecomb sat in his office, brooding over the shadow that had +so suddenly darkened his life. The dream he had dreamed of a woman he +could call Mother, of some man—his father—of whom he had striven to be +worthy, had dissolved into a specter with a shriveled face and shaggy +hair, into a woman whom he had left in the cemetery to die. Although he +was secure in the thought that he would not be connected with the +tragedy, he shuddered every time he thought of her and of the coming +spring, when the body would be discovered. He did not repent the crime +he had committed; but the fear that the secret of his birth would be +brought to life tortured him night and day. He remembered that Scraggy +had said his father wanted him; that she had come to Tarrytown to take +him back. Did his father know who and where he was? If so, eventual +discovery was inevitable.</p> + +<p>Everett's passion for Fledra only heightened his misery, and the girl's +face haunted him continually. In his imagination he compared her with +Ann, and the younger girl stood out in radiant contrast. He had daily +fostered his jealous hatred for Horace, and, because of her allegiance +to her brother, he had come to loathe Ann, although he was more than +ever determined to marry her. The home in which he had been reared +repelled him, and he could now live only for the fame that would rise +from his talent and work, and for the pleasures that come to those +without heart or conscience. Almost the entire morning had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> been +consumed by these thoughts, when two men were ushered in to him.</p> + +<p>"I'm Lon Cronk," said the taller of the two, "and this be Lem Crabbe, +and we hear that ye're a good lawyer."</p> + +<p>Everett rose frowningly.</p> + +<p>"I am a lawyer," said he; "but I choose my clients. I don't take +cases—"</p> + +<p>"We'll pay ye well," interrupted Lon, "if it's money ye want. Ye can +have as much as that Mr. Shellin'ton—"</p> + +<p>Everett dropped back again into his chair. The mention of Horace's name +silenced him. He motioned for the men to be seated, without taking his +eyes from Lem. The scowman's clothes were in shreds, and, as he lifted +his right arm, Brimbecomb saw the chapped red flesh, strapped to the +rusted iron hook. Although Lem had not spoken, the young lawyer noted +the silent convulsions going on in the dark, full throat, the unceasing +movements of the goiter.</p> + +<p>"State your case to me, then," said he tersely.</p> + +<p>Lon Cronk settled back and began to speak.</p> + +<p>"There's a man here in this town by the name of Shellington. He's a +lawyer, too, and he's got my kids, and I want 'em. That's my case, +Mister."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb's heart began to beat tumultuously. Chance was giving him a +lead he could not have won of his own efforts, and he smiled, turning on +Cronk more cordially.</p> + +<p>"Have you demanded your children of Mr. Shellington?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>Everett bent over eagerly.</p> + +<p>"What did he say to you?"</p> + +<p>"He says as how I could go to the devil, and that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> could git the law +after him if I wanted 'em. Can I get 'em, Mister?"</p> + +<p>The lawyer straightened up, and for many moments was deep in thought +before answering Lon. The chance of which he could never have dreamed +had come to him. This visit laid open a way for him to tear Fledra from +Horace; in fact, he could now legally take her from him with no +possibility of public discredit to himself. He narrowly observed the men +before him, and knew that he should later be able to force them to do as +he wished. He forgot his foster father and mother—aye, forgot even +Ann—as all that was black in his nature inflamed his desire for the +ebony-haired girl.</p> + +<p>During several minutes he rapidly planned how he could bring the affair +to a favorable climax with the least possible danger. But, whether by +fair means or by foul, he resolved that Fledra should become his.</p> + +<p>Presently, as if to gain time, he asked:</p> + +<p>"Do you want them both?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"The boy is ill, I hear," he said.</p> + +<p>"That don't make no difference," cried Lon. "I want him jest the same. +Can ye get 'em fer me, Mister?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," replied Everett; "and, if I take the case, I shall have to +ask you to keep out of it entirely, until I'm ready for you. We shall +probably have to go into court."</p> + +<p>"Yep, ye'll have to bring it into court, all right, I know ye will. How +much money do ye want now?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty dollars," replied Everett; "and it will be more if I have a suit, +and still more if I win. Come here again next week Monday, and I'll lay +my plans before you."</p> + +<p>Lon clapped his shabby cap upon his head, and, with a surly +leave-taking, moved to go. Lem lagged behind;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> but a glance at the +lawyer's forbidding face sent him shuffling after the squatter.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Long after they were gone Everett sat planning a future course. He felt +sure that Horace would not allow the children to be taken from him +without a fight; he knew there were special statutes governing these +things, and took down a large book and began to read.</p> + +<p>Much to his satisfaction, Brimbecomb found a letter from Mr. and Mrs. +Brimbecomb awaiting him at home that evening. In it his foster mother +informed him that they had decided to return to Tarrytown immediately +and make ready for a trip abroad, where they hoped that Mr. Brimbecomb +would recover his health. In a postscript from the noted lawyer, Everett +read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>I am glad that you are doing well, dear boy, and when my doctor +said that I must have a complete rest I knew that I could leave you +in charge of the office and go away satisfied.</p></div> + +<p>There followed a few personalities, and after finishing the reader threw +it down with a smile. He had hesitated a moment over the thought that +his father would have a decided objection to the Cronk case. But his +desire to work against Horace had overcome his irresolution. Now his way +was clear! The sooner Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb were away, the better +pleased he would be.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Floyd was suddenly taken worse.</p> + +<p>"I think, if you were to come and speak with him, he might feel better," +said Ann to Horace. "He wants to see you. Fledra is with him."</p> + +<p>Floyd was quiet now, his large eyes closed with quivering pain.</p> + +<p>"Floyd!" murmured Horace, touching the lad gently.</p> + +<p>The lids lifted, and he put up his hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm glad ye come, Brother Horace," he said in a whisper. "I've been +wantin' to talk to ye. Will ye take Flea out, Sister Ann?"</p> + +<p>Both girls left the room, as Horace drew a chair to the bed.</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' to get well," said Flukey slowly. "I know the doctor +thinks so, too, 'cause he said there was somethin' the matter with my +heart. And I have to go and leave Flea."</p> + +<p>Shellington took the thin, white hand in his.</p> + +<p>"You must not become downhearted, boy; that's not the way to get well. +And you're certainly better than when you came, in spite of this little +setback."</p> + +<p>Floyd closed his eyes, and Horace saw silent tears rolling down the +boy's cheeks. The young man bent over him.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, are you worrying about your sister?"</p> + +<p>Flukey nodded an affirmative.</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because she ain't the same as she was. And she ain't happy any more, +and I can't make her tell me. Have ye been ugly to her—have ye?"</p> + +<p>Horace racked his mind for a truthful answer. Had he been unfair to +Fledra?</p> + +<p>"Floyd," he said softly, "your sister and I have had some words; but we +shall soon understand each other—I know we shall!"</p> + +<p>"What did ye say to Flea?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you, Floyd, because I promised her I would not."</p> + +<p>The boy writhed under the warm blankets.</p> + +<p>"She's always makin' folks promise not to tell things," he moaned. "It's +because you're mad at her, that's what makes her cry so, and I can't do +anything for her. Can't you, Brother Horace?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She won't let me, Floyd."</p> + +<p>"Did ye ask her?"</p> + +<p>"Many times."</p> + +<p>"Would she let ye if I asked her?"</p> + +<p>"No, Floyd, you must not! I promised her that I would not speak with you +about her unhappiness." Horace ejaculated his reply so emphatically that +Floyd looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>"But I can't die and leave her that way, and I'm a goin' soon. Sometimes +my heart jest stands still, and won't start again till I lose all my +breath. A feller can't live that way, can he, Brother Horace?"</p> + +<p>"It will pass off; of course, it will—it must!" Horace looked into the +worn, suffering young face, and a resolution took possession of him.</p> + +<p>"Floyd," he said huskily, "Floyd, if I tell you something, will you keep +it from my sister and yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured Flukey.</p> + +<p>"I love Fledra, and want to make her my wife. Does that help you any, to +know that I shall always watch her and care for her?"</p> + +<p>Flukey searched the earnest face bent over him.</p> + +<p>"Ye love her?"</p> + +<p>"Very much, very much indeed. But she is young yet—only a little girl."</p> + +<p>"Did ye tell her that ye loved her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Did she say she loved you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Flukey groaned.</p> + +<p>"Then it's something else than that, because I've known for a long time +that Flea loved ye. What's the matter? What's the matter with ye both?"</p> + +<p>"Floyd, when I tell you that I do not know," answered Horace, "will you +believe me?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did ye want her to tell ye somethin'—something that'll keep ye from +takin' her now?" Horace's silence drew an outpouring from Flukey. "And I +suppose she said she wouldn't—and ye won't take her unless she tells +ye. Then ye'll never get her; for, when Flea says she won't, she won't, +if she dies for it! Ain't ye lovin' her well enough to take her, +anyway?"</p> + +<p>Horace answered warmly, "Yes, of course, I am!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>By the dawn of day Floyd had become so much worse that a trained nurse +was placed at his side, and the physician's verdict, that the boy might +die at any moment, overshadowed the threats of the squatter father.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Lon Cronk had come alone to Everett's office on the hour set. Brimbecomb +wondered vaguely where the other man was, and what was his concern in +the affair.</p> + +<p>After greeting Lon coldly, the young lawyer said:</p> + +<p>"I should like to know about your life, Mr. Cronk, how long your +children have been away from you, and all about it."</p> + +<p>"They've been gone since September," replied Lon. "They runned away from +hum, and I ain't seed 'em till I found out that they was at +Shellington's."</p> + +<p>"And how did you discover them?"</p> + +<p>"Saw Flea goin' up the steps," lied Cronk. "I knowed her the minute I +see her, in spite of her pretty clothes."</p> + +<p>"Then you applied to Mr. Shellington for them?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"And he refused to deliver them up?"</p> + +<p>"Yep—damn him! But I'll take 'em, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Don't say that outside my office," warned Everett. "The law does not +want to be threatened."</p> + +<p>Lon remained silent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We'll have to deal with Mr. Shellington very carefully," cautioned the +lawyer; "for he is proud and stubborn, and has a great liking for your +children. In fact, I think he is quite in love with the girl."</p> + +<p>Lon started to his feet, his swart face paling.</p> + +<p>"He won't git her!" he muttered. "I've got plans for that gal, and I +ain't goin' have no young buck kickin' 'em over, I kin tell ye that!"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb's words put a new light upon the matter. That Flea would be +protected by the young millionaire Lon knew; but that the young man +thought of marrying her had never come into his mind.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe as how he'd marry a squatter girl," he said presently. +"He won't, if I get her once to Ithaca!"</p> + +<p>The mention of Brimbecomb's college town and birthplace brought a new +train of thought to the lawyer.</p> + +<p>"Have you lived in Ithaca many years?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"The first thing I shall do," said the attorney deliberately, "is to +make a formal demand upon Mr. Shellington in your name, and get his +answer. Please remain in town where I can see you, and if anything comes +up I shall write you."</p> + +<p>Lon gave him the address of a man near the river, and Everett allowed +his client to go. Some force within him had almost impelled him to ask +the squatter concerning Screech Owl, and he breathed more freely when he +thought that he had not given way to the temptation to learn something +about his own people.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>At eight o'clock that evening Everett met Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb at the +station. He could not comprehend the feeling that his foster parents had +become strangers to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> him. He kissed his mother, shook hands with Mr. +Brimbecomb, and followed them into the carriage.</p> + +<p>He went to bed content with the knowledge that their steamer would sail +two days later, and that for six months he would be alone.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</h3> +</div> + +<p>I can't understand why Horace wants to keep those children +indefinitely," said Governor Vandecar to his wife one evening. "It seems +their own father has turned up and asked for them."</p> + +<p>"Is Horace going to let him have them?"</p> + +<p>"Not without a fight, I fear. He talked to me about it, and seemed +perfectly decided to keep them. I told him to take no steps until papers +were served upon him."</p> + +<p>"Can they keep them, Floyd?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar had become suddenly interested in Fledra and Floyd.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know," replied the governor. "Such things have to be +threshed out in court, although much will depend upon what the +youngsters wish to do. I fear, though, that Ann and Horace are making +useless trouble for themselves."</p> + +<p>"What process will the father have to take to get them?"</p> + +<p>"Have <i>habeas corpus</i> papers issued. It will be a nuisance; but I did +not try to change his mind, because he was so earnest about it."</p> + +<p>"So is Ann," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and then, Dear, I always think +their kindness to those poor little children might make the little dears +useful in life sometime. Mildred says they are very pretty and sweet."</p> + +<p>"Well, as I said before, it's strange that such a case should be here in +this peaceful little town, and I have promised Horace to advise him all +I can, although I am too busy to take any active part in it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, do everything you ought to, Floyd, if you discover that they have +really been abused. It might be that they would be really harmed if they +were taken back to their home. Did Horace tell you where they lived?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, near Ithaca somewhere. I think he said they had a shanty on Cayuga +Lake."</p> + +<p>"One of the squatters?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I remember very well," remarked Mrs. Vandecar after a moment's thought, +"when I went to Ithaca with Ann Shellington, and Horace and Everett were +graduated from the university, that we went up the lake in Brimbecomb's +yacht. The boys called our attention to numbers of huts on the west +shore, near the head of Cayuga. I suppose it must be one of those places +the children left."</p> + +<p>"I presume so," replied the governor.</p> + +<p>"Ann telephoned over that the boy was ill with a rheumatic heart. She +seemed quite alarmed over it."</p> + +<p>"He probably won't get well, if that's the case," murmured Vandecar. +"It's a pernicious thing when it attacks the heart. Wasn't it rather +strange that Ann and Horace should have used our names for them, +Fledra?"</p> + +<p>"You remember Ann asked me if I cared. She said that when they came they +had some strange nicknames, and that they wanted to make them forget +about their former lives, and it really pleased the poor little things +to have our names. I don't mind; do you, Floyd?"</p> + +<p>"No," was the answer. "I only wish—" He stopped quickly and turned to +his wife.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were filled with tears. Floyd Vandecar's wish had been her own, +that she knew.</p> + +<p>"I wish you had a son, too, Floyd dear!" she sobbed. "Oh, my babies, my +poor, pretty little babies!"</p> + +<p>"Don't Fledra, don't!" pleaded her husband. "It was God's will, and we +must bow to it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's so hard, though, Floyd, so awfully hard, and the days have been so +long! Floyd, do you ever wonder and wonder where they are?"</p> + +<p>The man shook his shoulders sharply.</p> + +<p>"Do I ever wonder, Fledra? My hair is whitened, my life shortened, and +many of my efforts of no avail, because of my sorrow and yours. If the +days have been long to you, they have been longer to me; if your heart +has been torn over their disappearance, mine has been doubly hurt, +because—because you have depended upon me to return them to you, and I +have not been able to."</p> + +<p>He spoke drearily, shading his face with his hand.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, dear Floyd, I'm not blaming you. I realize that if it had been +possible you would have given me back my babies, and you must not say +that your efforts have been of no avail. Why, dear husband, the papers +are full of your great, strong doings. I'm immensely proud of you." She +had leaned over him; but the despondent man did not take the hand from +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Of all the strange cases, Fledra, ours is the strangest. You remember +how I turned the state almost upside down to find those children. Yet, +with all the power I could bring to bear, I made no headway."</p> + +<p>"I did not realize that you felt it so deeply," whispered the wife. +"I've been so selfish—forgive me! We'll try to be as happy as possible, +and we have Mildred—"</p> + +<p>"If we had a dozen children," replied the governor sadly, "our first +babies would always have their places in our hearts."</p> + +<p>"True," murmured the mother. "How true that is, Floyd! There is never a +day but I feel the touch of their fingers, remember their sweet baby +ways. And always, when I look at you, I think of them. They were so like +their father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe had arranged between them that the scowman +should return to Ithaca for some days, and so the big thief was alone +near the Hudson, in a shanty that had been given over to him by a canal +friend to use when he wished. When Lon decided to rob Horace +Shellington, he had known that there would have to be some place to take +the things thus obtained, and had secured the hut for the purpose. It +was at this address that Everett came to him, upon his return from New +York.</p> + +<p>Lon admitted the lawyer, who found the hut reeking with the rank smoke +from a short pipe that Cronk held in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Have ye got the kids?" the squatter questioned.</p> + +<p>Everett catechized the heavy face with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Did you think for a moment it was possible to obtain them so quickly?"</p> + +<p>"I hain't had no way of knowin'," grunted Lon, "and I'm in a hurry."</p> + +<p>He seemed changed, and looked as if he had not slept. Everett wondered +if his affection for the children had been so great that his loss of +them had altered him thus. The lawyer did not know how Lon was tortured +when he caressed the image of the dead woman, nor could he know the +man's agony when her spirit left him suddenly.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to curb your haste," said Brimbecomb, with a curl of his +lip. "It takes time to set justice in motion."</p> + +<p>"Have ye done anything?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet. I was forced to go to New York."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't ye better git a hustle on yerself?" snarled Lon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I intend to begin tomorrow; that is, to take the first steps in +the matter. But I wanted to talk with you first. Are you alone?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yep; there ain't nobody here. Fire ahead, and say what ye're wantin' +to."</p> + +<p>Everett bent over and looked keenly into Lon's face; then slowly he +threw a question at the fellow:</p> + +<p>"Are you fond of those two children, or have you other motives for +taking them from Shellington?"</p> + +<p>Cronk made no reply, but settled back in the rickety chair and eyed +Everett from head to foot.</p> + +<p>"Be that any of yer business?" he said at length.</p> + +<p>The lawyer took the repulse calmly. He had not come to fight with Lon.</p> + +<p>"It's my business as far as this is concerned. If you care for them, and +intend to shield them after you have them—well, say from all harm—and +do your best for them, then I don't want your case. I'm willing to +return your money."</p> + +<p>For a moment the elder man looked disconcerted; then he jumped to his +feet with an oath.</p> + +<p>"Put her there, Mister!" said he, with an evil smile. He thrust forth a +great hand, and for an instant Everett placed his fingers within it.</p> + +<p>"I thought I had not guessed wrongly," the lawyer quickly averred. "If +that is how you feel, I can do better work for you."</p> + +<p>"I see that, Mister," muttered Lon.</p> + +<p>"Are those children really yours?" Everett took out a cigar and lighted +it.</p> + +<p>"Yep," answered Lon, dropping his gaze.</p> + +<p>Everett decided that the man had lied to him, and he was glad.</p> + +<p>"I think you said you had some plans for the girl," he broke forth +presently.</p> + +<p>"Yep; but no plans be any good when she's with Shellington."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But after she has left him? Would you be willing to change your plans +for her?"</p> + +<p>Cronk did not reply, but centered his gaze full upon Everett.</p> + +<p>"The question is, would you, for a good sum of money, be willing to give +her to me?"</p> + +<p>"Why give her to ye, Mister—why?" His voice rose to a shout.</p> + +<p>"I want her," Everett answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"I love her."</p> + +<p>"Ye want to marry her?" muttered Lon vindictively.</p> + +<p>"No," drawled Everett; "I am going to marry Miss Shellington."</p> + +<p>"Good God! ye don't mean it! And yet ye take this case what's most +interestin' to 'em? Yer gal won't like that, Mister."</p> + +<p>"She loves me, and when I explain that it's all under the law she'll +forgive me. There's nothing quite like having a woman in love with you +to get her to do what you want her to."</p> + +<p>"But her brother, he ain't lovin' ye that way. He won't forgive ye."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't cut any ice," said Everett. "In fact, I hate him, and—"</p> + +<p>"Be ye lovin' my Flea?" Lon's voice cracked out the question like a +gunshot.</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"Be Flea lovin' you, or him?"</p> + +<p>"She loves him."</p> + +<p>"Then it will hurt her like the devil to take her away from him, eh?"</p> + +<p>The eagerness expressed in the squatter's tones confirmed Everett's +suspicions. Cronk hated that boy and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> girl. Brimbecomb impassively +overlooked Floyd; but Flea he would have!</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I think it will hurt them both."</p> + +<p>"How much money will ye give if I hand her over to ye?" asked Cronk +presently.</p> + +<p>"How much do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Wal, Mister, it's this way: Ye remember that feller I had with me +t'other day?" Everett nodded. "I mean, the feller with the hook?" Again +Everett inclined his head. "I said as how he could have Flea. Ye has to +buy him off, too, and that ain't so easy as 'tis to settle with +me—especially, as ye ain't goin' to marry Flea. I ain't goin' to give +her to no man what's honest—ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"I supposed as much," commented Everett, reddening.</p> + +<p>"Lem's been waitin' for Flea for over three years, and I said as how +ye'd have to buy him off, too."</p> + +<p>"That's easy. Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Gone to Ithaca. He's went up to bring down his scow. It's gettin' 'long +to be spring, and it's easier to lug the kids back by water, and we know +that way, and it don't cost so much. I telled him when he went away that +he could have the gal as soon as we got back to the settlement. Lem +won't reason for a little bit of money."</p> + +<p>"Money doesn't count in this," assured Everett. "Now, then, if I take +this case, put it through without cost to you, and give you both a good +sum, will you give me the girl?"</p> + +<p>"If ye promise me ye won't marry her."</p> + +<p>Everett laughed, his white teeth gleaming through his lips.</p> + +<p>"Don't let that worry you, Mr. Cronk. I have no desire to place at the +head of my home a girl like yours. I told you that I was going to marry +Miss Shellington—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> not even that damned brother of hers can prevent +it!"</p> + +<p>For a long time after Everett had left the hut Lon sat meditating over +what he had heard. He wondered if Everett really loved Ann, and, if he +did, how he could wish for Flea. How another woman could erase from any +man's mind the picture of a loved woman, Lon with his loyal heart could +not understand. He sat for an hour with his head on the old wooden +table, and planned what he should do with Flukey, leaving it to the +brilliant-eyed lawyer to dicker with Lem for Flea.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</h3> +</div> + +<p>Horace Shellington took a long breath as he entered his office one +morning in the latter part of March. The blustering wind that had raged +all night had almost subsided, and he felt glad for Floyd's sake; for, +no matter how warm they kept the little lad, the sound of the wind +through the trees and the dismal wail of the branches at night made him +shiver and fret with nervous pain. Horace had scarcely seated himself +when Everett Brimbecomb entered the room.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Horace!" said the latter jovially. "I was going to come in +yesterday, but was not quite ready to see you. Haven't been able to get +a word with you in several days."</p> + +<p>Horace offered a chair, and Everett sank into it.</p> + +<p>"You are always so busy when I run in to see Ann," Brimbecomb went on, +"that one would think you were not an inmate of that house."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Horace, "I've been studying up on an interesting case I +expect to handle very soon."</p> + +<p>Everett laughed.</p> + +<p>"So have I," he said, narrowing his lids and looking at Shellington.</p> + +<p>"When one is connected with offices as we are, Everett," remarked Horace +uninterestedly, "there is little time for visiting."</p> + +<p>"I find that, too," replied Everett.</p> + +<p>During the last few weeks Horace had seen little of his sister's fiancé; +in fact, since their quarrel he had drawn away from the young man as a +companion; but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> above everything else he desired his gentle sister to be +happy, and the man before him was the only one to make her so. He +thought of this, and smiled a little more cordially as he said:</p> + +<p>"Is there anything I can do for you, Everett?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, there is," admitted Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything I can," replied Horace heartily.</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb hesitated before going on. Shellington looked so grave, so +dignified, so much more manly than he had ever seen him, that he +scarcely dared open his subject.</p> + +<p>"It's something that may touch you at first, Horace," he explained; +"but—"</p> + +<p>Horace, unsuspicious, bent forward encouragingly:</p> + +<p>"Go ahead," he said.</p> + +<p>Everett flushed and looked at the floor.</p> + +<p>"A case has just come into our office, and, as my father is gone from +home, I have taken it on."</p> + +<p>Horace listened expectantly. Everett could have struck the man in the +face, he hated him so deeply. He groaned mentally as he thought of +Scraggy and her wild-eyed cat and of his endeavor to close her lips as +to her relation to him. It was a great fear within him that soon his +father would appear as his mother had. The time might come when this +haughty man before him would have reason to look upon him with contempt. +To make Horace understand his present power was the one thought that now +dominated him.</p> + +<p>With this in mind, he began to speak again:</p> + +<p>"A man came to us with a complaint that you were keeping his children +from him."</p> + +<p>If Horace had received the blow the other longed to give, he could not +have been more shocked.</p> + +<p>"I believe his name is Cronk," went on Everett, taking a slip from his +pocket; "yes, Lon Cronk."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace took his paper-knife from the table and twirled it in his +fingers. His face had grown ashen white, his lips were set closely over +his teeth.</p> + +<p>"I have met this Cronk," he said in a low tone.</p> + +<p>"So I understand. He told me that he had been at your home, and had +demanded his children, and that you had refused to give them up."</p> + +<p>"I did!" There was no lack of emphasis in the words.</p> + +<p>"And you said that he could not have them unless he went to law for +them."</p> + +<p>"I did!" said Horace again.</p> + +<p>"And he came to me."</p> + +<p>Horace rose to his feet, a deep frown gathering on his brow. Everett +rose also, and the two men faced each other for a long moment.</p> + +<p>"And you took the case?" Horace got out at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I took the case," Everett replied.</p> + +<p>"And yet you knew that Ann loved them?"</p> + +<p>"I was—was sure that if you both understood—"</p> + +<p>The speaker's hesitation brought forth an ejaculation from Shellington.</p> + +<p>"What are we to understand?"</p> + +<p>"That justice must be done the father," responded Everett quickly.</p> + +<p>Horace squared his jaw and snapped out:</p> + +<p>"Do I understand that, in spite of the near relationship of our family, +you are willing to deal a blow to my sister and me that, if it falls, +will be almost unbearable? You intend to fight with this squatter for +his children?"</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to fight, Horace, if you're willing to give them to me. +I had much rather have our present relations go on as they are, without +a breach in them. I think, if you and Ann talk it over, you will see +that by giving the boy and girl into my hands—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace came a step nearer, with darkening brow:</p> + +<p>"You can go straight to hell!" he said, so fiercely that Everett started +back. "And the sooner you go, the better I shall be pleased," his face +reddened as he finished, "and so will Ann!"</p> + +<p>"You're speaking for someone who has not given you authority," Everett +sneered. "Your sister will give me at least one of those children—I +imagine, the girl. I think the father is more particular about having +her."</p> + +<p>"I should think he would be, and you may take him this message from me: +that, if he sneaks about my house at any time of day or night, I'll have +him shot like a dog, for every man can protect his own; and if you—"</p> + +<p>Everett, seeing his chance, broke in:</p> + +<p>"He would be protecting his own, if he came to your home, for his own +are there; and we are going to have those children before another month +goes by!"</p> + +<p>"Try it, and perhaps I may bring to your mind what you once said to me +about that girl," muttered Horace, with set teeth. "Your errand being +finished, Mr. Brimbecomb, you may go!"</p> + +<p>Everett had received the worst of the encounter. He had expected that +Horace would consider Fledra's and Floyd's case in a gentler way, would +probably compromise for Ann's sake. He went out not a little disturbed.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Horace waited for a few moments after Brimbecomb left him before he took +his hat and coat and went home. Ann was surprised to see him, and more +surprised when he drew her into the drawing-room, where he mysteriously +closed the door.</p> + +<p>"Ann," he said solemnly, "I believe the turning point in your life has +come. And I want you to judge for yourself and take your own stand +without thinking of my happiness or comfort."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young woman lifted startled eyes and searched his face.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Horace—that squatter again? Has he made a move against +us?"</p> + +<p>Horace bent over and took her hands in his.</p> + +<p>"He has not only made a move against us, as far as the children are +concerned, but he has used an instrument you would never have dreamed +of." Seeing his sister did not reply, he went on, "Just what legal +procedure they will undertake I don't know; but that will come out in +time. Cronk went to Everett Brimbecomb with the case, and I was notified +this morning by Everett to give up the children."</p> + +<p>"Everett!" breathed Ann, disbelieving. "My Everett?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, your Everett, Ann. Don't, child, please don't! Ann, Ann, listen to +me!... Yes, sit down.... Now wait!"</p> + +<p>He held her closely in his arms until the storm of sobs had passed, and +then placed a pillow under her head and went on gravely:</p> + +<p>"Ann, I have come to this conclusion: you love Everett dearly, and I +cannot understand his actions; but I'm not going to intrude upon your +affection for him, nor his for you. I'm going to ask you not to take +sides with either of us. I'm a lawyer, and so is he. Do you understand, +Ann?"</p> + +<p>Fearfully she clutched his fingers.</p> + +<p>"But Fledra and Floyd—I can't let them go back, I can't! I can't!"</p> + +<p>"They're not going back," said Horace firmly. "Mind you, Ann, even to +renew my friendship with Brimbecomb, I shouldn't give them up."</p> + +<p>"Renew your friendship!" gasped Ann. "Oh, have you quarreled with him, +Horace?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, and told him to leave my office."</p> + +<p>Ann sobbed again.</p> + +<p>"What a fearful tragedy is hanging over us!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"It is worse than I imagined it could be," Horace declared; "much worse, +for I never thought that the squatter could get a reputable firm to +represent him. And as for Everett—well, he never entered my mind. I +told him that he could not take those children, and that he might—"</p> + +<p>He remembered plainly what he had said, but did not communicate it to +his sister. She was so frail, so gently modest, that an angry man's +language would hurt her.</p> + +<p>"I told him," ended Horace, "to do whatever he thought best, and that, +if Cronk came here again, I should shoot him down like a dog. I think we +ought to tell Fledra, and then, too, I desire to speak to her of +something else. Can you bring her to me, Ann, without frightening +Floyd?"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>It did not need Ann's quiet plucking at her sleeve to tell Fledra that +the blow had fallen. She had expected it day after day; until now, when +she faced Horace and looked into his tense face, she felt that her whole +hope had gone.</p> + +<p>Ann tiptoed out before her brother opened his lips.</p> + +<p>For a moment the harassed man knew not what to say to the silent, +trembling girl.</p> + +<p>"Fledra," he began, "the first move has been made in your case by your +father."</p> + +<p>"Must we go?" burst from the quivering lips.</p> + +<p>"No, no: not if you have told me the truth about your past life—I mean +about your father being cruel to you."</p> + +<p>The sensitive face gathered a deep flush:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've never lied to you, Brother Horace," she replied gently.</p> + +<p>"If I could believe you, child, if I could place absolute confidence in +your word, I should have courage to go into the struggle without losing +hope."</p> + +<p>"What's Pappy Lon done?"</p> + +<p>"He has employed Everett Brimbecomb to take you back to Ithaca."</p> + +<p>Fledra shrank back as if he had struck her. Swiftly into her mind came +the smiling, handsome face of the lawyer whom Ann loved. His brilliant +eyes seared her soul like fire. In all her life, even when facing Lem +Crabbe, she had never felt as she did now. She saw Floyd fading into the +graveyard beyond, while she was being torn from the only haven of rest +she had ever known. Lem Crabbe could not have taken her; but Everett +Brimbecomb could! She felt again his burning kisses, the clasp of his +strong arms, and her own disgust. He seemed a giant of strength, and +Horace's white face and set lips aggravated her fear. Fledra's desire +for comfort had never been so great as the desire she had at this moment +to open her tired heart to Horace and reveal to him Everett's perfidy.</p> + +<p>"Did you tell Sister Ann about Mr. Brimbecomb?"</p> + +<p>She stumbled over the name.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What did she say?"</p> + +<p>"My sister loves him—you know that. She is heartbroken that he should +have accepted this case. We must make it as easy as we can for her, dear +child."</p> + +<p>The girl saw Horace's lips twitch as he spoke, and thought of the love +he had for his sister, and her desire to tell him what she knew died +immediately.</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to go with Pappy Lon and not make any trouble for her?" +she whispered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, no, not that! You can't go, Fledra, and they can't take you, +if—you have told me the truth about the man your father wanted to give +you to."</p> + +<p>"Floyd and I told the truth," she said seriously, lifting her eyes to +his face; "but for Sister Ann I'd go away with Pappy Lon, and with Lem, +if you'd take care of Fluke till he—"</p> + +<p>"Don't, Fledra, don't!" groaned Horace. "It would tear me to pieces to +give you up. But—but you couldn't relieve my mind, Dear, could you?"</p> + +<p>Fledra knew what he meant, and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, not now," she replied.</p> + +<p>If it troubled Ann to have Everett take part in their going back to the +squatter country, how much worse she would feel if she knew what he +really had done! Horace's appeal to shield Ann from overmuch burden +strengthened Fledra's courage.</p> + +<p>"Can you keep us?" she asked, after a moment's thought.</p> + +<p>"I am going to try."</p> + +<p>"If you love me well, Brother Horace," said Fledra, "won't you believe +that I'd do anything for Sister Ann and you?"</p> + +<p>He nodded his head; but did not speak.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>When he reached Ithaca, Lem Crabbe found a flood besieging the forest +city. The creeks of Cascadilla and Six Mile Gorge had overflowed their +banks, and the lower section of the town was under water. He had come +back for the scow, and to find Scraggy. He was determined to force from +her the whereabouts of his son. He wended his way toward the hut of one +of his friends at the inlet, and hailed the boat that conveyed the +squatters to and fro in flood-time. As the boat lapped the muddy water +breaking into the weeds and brushes, Lem saw Eli<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> Cronk perched in +another boat, with a spear in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Eli!" shouted Lem.</p> + +<p>Eli greeted him with a wave of the pole.</p> + +<p>The boats neared each other, and Lem shouted that he wanted to get into +Cronk's craft.</p> + +<p>"What ye doin'?" asked Crabbe, as the boat he had just left shot away +toward the bridge.</p> + +<p>"Catching frogs," replied Eli. "I sell a lot of 'em to the hotels, and +this flood is jest the thing to make 'em thick." He lowered his spear +and brought up a struggling frog. Throwing it into a covered box, he +peered again into the water.</p> + +<p>"Where's Lon?" he said, straightening again with another victim.</p> + +<p>"To Tarrytown."</p> + +<p>"What's he to Tarrytown fer?"</p> + +<p>"He's a gittin' Flea and Flukey. That's where they runned to."</p> + +<p>"He ain't found 'em, has he? Truth, now!"</p> + +<p>"Yep, truth," answered Lem; "and he's got a fine-lookin' lawyer-pup to +git 'em for him."</p> + +<p>As Eli again and again thrust his spear into the water, Lem told the +story of the finding of the twins. He refrained from speaking of his +experience with Screech Owl; but said finally, as if with little +interest:</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't seen Scraggy, has ye?"</p> + +<p>"Nope; and she ain't in her hut, nuther; or she wasn't awhile back, +'cause I stopped there, when I was a lookin' for Lon."</p> + +<p>"When did ye git back to town?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno jest what day it were," responded Cronk, spearing again.</p> + +<p>"Can I git up the tracks, Eli?" inquired Lem presently.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll have to wade in mud to yer knees fer a spell after ye leave the +boat."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I can take the hill over the tracks for a way. Will ye row me up as far +as ye can?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, I'll row ye up," replied Eli, proceeding with his work.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Late in the afternoon, Lem Crabbe, wet to his knees and covered with +mud, entered the scow. He had stopped at Screechy's hut, knocked, and, +having received no answer, clicked down the hill to the boat.</p> + +<p>He made up his mind to stay there until Scraggy came back; then he would +go back to Tarrytown and bring the twins to Ithaca. Every morning Lem +mounted the hill, only to find that Screech Owl had not returned. But +one day, just at dusk, as he appeared before the hut, he saw the +flickering of a candle. He did not wait to knock, but entered, and found +Scraggy stretched out on the old bed. She looked up as if she had +expected him, noted his dark face, and lowered her head again.</p> + +<p>"Black Pussy's gone, Lem. I've got a cold settin' on me here," she +whispered, wheezing as she laid her hand on her chest.</p> + +<p>"I hope it'll kill ye!" grunted Lem. "What did you leave the toolhouse +fer, when I told ye to stay?"</p> + +<p>"What toolhouse, Lemmy?" The dazed eyes looked up at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Don't try none of yer guff on me. I want to know who ye went to see in +Tarrytown, and who the man was that throwed ye over the fence, and then +lugged ye off to that vault?"</p> + +<p>Scraggy sat up painfully.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't throwed over no fence."</p> + +<p>"Ye was, 'cause I seed the man when he done it. I wish now that I'd a +gone and settled with him. Who was he, Screechy?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno," she answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lem bent over her, his eyes blazing with wrath.</p> + +<p>"Ye want to git yer batty head a workin' damn quick," he shouted, "or +I'll slit yer throat with this!" The rusty hook was thrust near the +thin, drawn face.</p> + +<p>"I can't think tonight," muttered Screech Owl, "'cause the bats be a +runnin' 'bout in my head. When I think, I'll tell ye, Lemmy."</p> + +<p>"Where be that boy?" demanded Lem.</p> + +<p>Scraggy shook her head. Every time she thought of Lem's questions, there +was an infernal tapping of unnumbered winged creatures at the walls of +her brain.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no boy that I knows of," she said listlessly, sinking down +again. "And ye wouldn't slit my neck when I ain't done nothin', would +ye, Lemmy?"</p> + +<p>"Ye has done somethin'," growled Lem. "Ye has kep' that brat from me +these years past, and now he's big 'nough I'm goin' to have him! Ye +hear?" Every word he uttered came forth with effort. The red mark under +his chin moved relentlessly, preventing him from speaking with +clearness.</p> + +<p>Scraggy writhed beneath the tightening grasp of the man's wet fingers.</p> + +<p>"I'll choke ye to death!" Lem gasped, between throaty convulsions.</p> + +<p>"Lemmy, Lemmy dear—"</p> + +<p>Another twist of Lem's fingers, and the woman sank back unconscious. Lem +shook her roughly.</p> + +<p>"Scraggy, Scraggy!" he cried wildly. "Set up! I Want to talk to ye! Set +up!"</p> + +<p>The silence in the gloomy hut, the whiteness of the seemingly dead +woman, filled Lem with superstitious dread. He grasped his lantern and +ran out, failing to close the door.</p> + +<p>The frightened man made off up the hill, and, passing through the +Stebbins farm by the Gothic church and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> dark graveyard, he tramped the +Trumansburg road to Ithaca. The tracks were covered with water as they +had been when Eli had given him the lift toward the settlement. But the +flood had so receded that by drawing his trousers up over his boots Lem +managed to get through the mud to the bridge. From there he sought the +house of Middy Burnes, where he made an agreement with the tugman that +the scow should be towed from Ithaca to Tarrytown.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FIVE" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FIVE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>To usher Everett into her home with the same fond heart as hitherto was +more than Ann could do. Dearly as she loved him, much as she desired to +be his wife, it was hard to pardon him for casting aside her interests +for those of the dark-browed squatter. But, womanlike, she felt that she +could break down her lover's determination, and resolved that she would +not hesitate to open argument with him.</p> + +<p>Everett met her with a smile, and her lips trembled as they received his +warm kiss. After they were seated he said:</p> + +<p>"Horace has told you, no doubt, Ann, of the children's case." She nodded +her head sorrowfully. "Your brother seems to feel," went on Everett, +"that I should not have taken charge of it."</p> + +<p>"Neither should you have done so, Everett, unless you've other motives +than we know of."</p> + +<p>She looked up; but lowered her eyes as Brimbecomb glanced at her +furtively. Had Fledra told her of his advances? No, or she would never +have received his kisses. His fears were quieted by this thought, and he +asked gently:</p> + +<p>"What motives could I have other than that justice should be done the +father? I took the case, first, because it came to me; then, because I +think the man ought to have his children."</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington's face darkened.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Everett, you can't be so hard-hearted as to want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> those poor little +things misused! They have been persecuted by their own people, and you +certainly have more heart than to want that to happen again."</p> + +<p>"It's not a case of feeling; it's a case of justice. I know how this man +has struggled all his life to rear this boy and girl. They've had no +mother, and then, as soon as they were old enough and had the chance, +they ran away."</p> + +<p>"Because he was cruel to them!"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it. I've had something to do with men, and I'm assured +that he told me the truth. I believe, as he says, that they excused +their leaving home by brazen lies. Have you never caught them lying to +you, Ann?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! They've always been truthful to me."</p> + +<p>"And to Horace?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't asked him. But, if they hadn't been, I am sure he would have +spoken of it. Everett, let me plead with you. They have been with us a +long time, and Horace and I have grown used to them. They need our care +more than I can tell you. The boy is still very ill. Won't you let my +love for you plead for them, and withdraw from the case? Do, Dear, and +let me call Horace. Will you, Everett? He's so sad over it! Oh! may I +call him?" She had risen from her chair; but a negative shake of the +man's head made her resume her place again, and she continued, "It will +be a dreadful thing for them, if they have to go back. Now, listen, +Everett! If you will withdraw and let Horace settle it with that man, +our arrangements," her face was dyed crimson,—"I mean your plans and +mine for our wedding, shall remain as they are. Otherwise—"</p> + +<p>"Otherwise, what?" breathed Everett, bending toward her.</p> + +<p>"I—I shall have to postpone them." Her voice had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> strengthened as she +spoke, and the last statement was clear and ringing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you couldn't, Ann! Because I take a perfectly legitimate case, +which comes into our office, you propose to postpone our marriage?"</p> + +<p>"But, Everett, think of what you are doing! It is as if you had taken my +brother by the throat. You were the first one to suggest that he might +love the girl. What if he does?"</p> + +<p>"We will not talk of Horace, please." Everett turned from her as he +spoke. "You and I are the parties interested. If you will aid me, and +you should, seeing that you love me, your brother need not be +considered."</p> + +<p>Ann rose, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"You do not mean, Everett, that you wish to gain my consent that Fledra +and Floyd should go back to Ithaca?"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb also rose.</p> + +<p>"Fledra and Floyd!" he mimicked smilingly. "What a farce it all is! And +how foolish to give them such names! I should think the governor and his +wife would feel complimented that those kids were called for them! They +are but paupers, after all!"</p> + +<p>"Everett," stammered Ann, "am I just beginning to know you? Oh, you +can't mean it! You're but jesting with me, aren't you, Dear?" Her love +for him impelled her forward, and her slender hands fell upon his +shoulders. He slipped them off, and gathered her fingers into his.</p> + +<p>"Ann," he said earnestly, "I'm not jesting, and I ask you, by your love +for me, to aid me in this, the first thing of importance I have ever +asked you."</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington drew reluctantly away.</p> + +<p>"I can't, I can't! My very soul revolts at the idea." Then, gaining +strength of voice, the girl, marble-white, exclaimed, "If you're not +jesting, and are still determined to follow out your plans," she caught +her breath in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> sob and whispered, "then, like my brother, I shall have +to ask you to leave, please."</p> + +<p>A frown darkened Everett's face, followed by an expression of ridicule.</p> + +<p>"Is this your love for me? You would let two strange squatter children +come between us? Am I to understand it so?"</p> + +<p>"You may understand this: that, after knowing that their father is +wicked, that he would have sacrificed his daughter to a vile man, +without marriage to lessen her suffering, after knowing that he tried to +make a thief of his noble-hearted boy,—I say, after knowing all this, +if you can still insist upon helping him, then I would not dare—to +trust—my life with you!"</p> + +<p>Everett's rage blotted out all remembrance of how he left the house; but +there was a vivid picture in his mind of a woman, pale and lovely, +opening the door and dismissing him coldly. He remembered also that she +had shut the door as if it were never to be opened again to him. His +only consolation was that before long he would be able to face Fledra +Cronk and prove his power to her. With this thought came the +satisfaction of knowing that he would be able to wring Horace +Shellington's heart.</p> + +<p>After closing the door upon her lover, Ann stood breathless. The light +had suddenly gone from her sun—the whole living world seemed plunged +into darkness. Everett was gone, gone from her possibly forever. His +face had expressed a determination that proved he would not change his +mind. Why had he reasoned himself into thinking that justice could be +served in the squatter's cause? Everett must have a motive. Her judgment +told her to accuse the man she loved; her heart demanded that she excuse +him. For one instant her generous spirit balanced the squatter +children's welfare and her own future. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> had promised to protect +Fledra and Floyd, promised them and Horace. Only a broken prayer escaped +her lips as she turned and walked quickly down the hall. She did not +wait to knock, but twisted the door-handle convulsively, and appeared +before her brother without a plea for pardon for her unannounced +entrance.</p> + +<p>"He's gone forever!" she said brokenly. "Oh, oh, I can't—"</p> + +<p>She swayed forward, and suddenly a merciful oblivion rested her +turbulent spirit, during which her agonized brother worked, hoping and +praying that she might soon know how he pitied and loved her.</p> + +<p>At length, when she opened her eyes and gazed at him, Ann murmured under +her breath, with a world of pleading:</p> + +<p>"Don't speak of him—don't! Dear heart, I can't—I can't bear it!"</p> + +<p>It was not until long afterward that Horace Shellington heard of the +scene through which she had passed.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Everett Brimbecomb's card admitted him to the governor's home. Mrs. +Vandecar welcomed him with outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"Strange, Everett," said she, "but I was thinking only this afternoon +that I should ask you to dinner. I feel ashamed that I haven't before; +but I've been such an invalid for a long time! You must be lonely, now +that your father and mother are gone."</p> + +<p>"I've been busy."</p> + +<p>The other laughed understandingly.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I had forgotten that a young engaged man has but few free evenings +on his hands."</p> + +<p>To this Everett did not reply.</p> + +<p>"How is dear Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar.</p> + +<p>"I left her quite well; but not in the best of spirits.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> In fact, dear +little lady," and he bent over the white hand he held, "I've come to ask +a favor of you."</p> + +<p>"Is it anything about Ann? I can't have matters disarranged between you +two. I've always said you were an ideal couple."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," murmured Everett.</p> + +<p>Her frank words somewhat shattered his courage; for he knew her to be +kind-hearted. He did not expect to have her make any impression upon the +Shellington brother and sister; but wished her assistance as far as her +husband was concerned.</p> + +<p>He kept his gaze so long upon the floor that Mrs. Vandecar spoke:</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you came to me, Everett."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm glad, too, and I need your help just now. The fact is, Ann and +I have had words over a case I have taken charge of in the office."</p> + +<p>"How very strange!" exclaimed the woman, mystified.</p> + +<p>"It's no more strange to you than to me," went on Everett, after they +were seated. "First, Horace and I quarreled, and then, thinking Ann +would uphold me in my work, I went to her; getting about the same +reception I had received from him."</p> + +<p>"I should never have believed it of either of them," faltered Mrs. +Vandecar. "But do tell me about it."</p> + +<p>"Horace and Ann, as you know, have a boy and a girl in their charge."</p> + +<p>The governor's wife sat up interestedly.</p> + +<p>"I have heard of them," said she; "but have never seen them. I asked Ann +over the telephone one day this week, if I sent Katherine for the girl, +would she allow her to come and spend an afternoon with Mildred. But she +said that—"</p> + +<p>"Fledra, they call her," interrupted Brimbecomb, with a keen glance at +his companion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, so I've heard. Ann said that this Fledra was not going out at +all."</p> + +<p>"Do you know why?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I supposed that it was because their father had asked for them and +they feared some foul play."</p> + +<p>"Foul play!" cried Brimbecomb. "Why, Mrs. Vandecar, don't you think that +a father ought to have his own children?" Everett's eyes pierced her +gaze until it dropped.</p> + +<p>"Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them."</p> + +<p>"It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about. +I have accepted the father's case."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know +Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?"</p> + +<p>Everett twisted nervously.</p> + +<p>"She has no right to have her heart set upon them. Now, here is what I +want you to do. Ann is wearing away her health with these scrubs of +humanity, for which she won't even receive gratitude, and Horace looks +like a June shad. The boy has been sick constantly since he's been +there. If there were no hospitals in the town, it might be different. I +must make a move to separate the girl I love from the burden she can't +bear."</p> + +<p>Everett averted his face. Until that moment this excuse had not come +into his mind. If Mrs. Vandecar had any affection at all for Ann, the +thought that the girl was making herself ill would tempt her to +interfere.</p> + +<p>"Everett, does Ann know why you want to take them away from her?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not; I couldn't tell her that, nor Horace, either. They would +have promptly told me to attend to my own affairs; but I could come to +you."</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad—I'm so glad you did! And poor Ann,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> I wish she would allow +her friends to help her! She's such a darling in her charitable work, +though, isn't she?"</p> + +<p>"I don't agree with you," dissented Everett.</p> + +<p>"But you must admit, boy, that a girl who will make a hospital of her +home, who will wear out her strength for two little strangers, has the +heart of Christ in her."</p> + +<p>"I admit her goodness," said Everett slowly, "or I should not want her +for my wife. But you can't blame me when I say that I desire her to be +herself again."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar rose.</p> + +<p>"Well, come in to dinner, and we can still talk. Mildred has gone to her +father in Albany with Katherine for a day or two, and I'm alone."</p> + +<p>When they were seated, Everett pressed his plea again.</p> + +<p>"I don't think Ann would have been so stubborn in the matter, if Horace +had not insisted upon it. And I know that you will be surprised to hear +that he is in love with the girl, a little pauper who uses bad English +and swears like a pirate."</p> + +<p>Fledra Vandecar dropped her fork and started back from the table.</p> + +<p>"Everett, has Horace lost his mind, or what is it? What can there be in +two children—for they are very young—to have such a hold upon a man +like Horace and a woman like Ann?"</p> + +<p>"I have asked myself that a dozen times, and more," commented Everett. +"But now you understand why I want to do something to relieve these +misguided young people—to say nothing of my love for Ann?"</p> + +<p>"I do understand," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and I can't blame you. But, +really, I don't see what I can do, without incurring the enmity of both +of my friends."</p> + +<p>"Your husband," breathed Everett.</p> + +<p>"Is pledged to Horace in this very matter, and, of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> course, I couldn't +take a stand against him. Everett, why don't you drop the case and let +time take its course? I fear that you're going the wrong way."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb bit his lip. He might have known that Horace would apply to +the governor; but he had hoped to steal a march upon him and to keep the +state's official from aiding him. But Everett also knew what an +influence Mrs. Vandecar had over her husband, and now rejoined:</p> + +<p>"I have gone too far with it; and, what's more, if I have to bear the +brunt of the thing alone, I'll free Ann from a presence that has +completely changed her! Have you seen her lately?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar shook her head.</p> + +<p>"I haven't," she admitted slowly. "I haven't been well enough to go out, +and she hasn't been here. I have heard from her only now and then on the +'phone. Poor child! I must try to get over there tomorrow."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Next day Ann met Mrs. Vandecar with open arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Fledra," said she, "I've longed for you so many days! I do +appreciate your coming!"</p> + +<p>"I knew you would, Ann. You are the first acquaintance I have called on +in weeks. But, honey girl, you don't look well."</p> + +<p>Ann's eyes filled with tears. Fledra Vandecar was one of the many bright +rays of sunshine in her past life, when she had been happy and +contented, when Everett had been her lover, and Horace at ease. Now her +life was all chaos. Misery, fright, and a troubled heart were her +constant companions.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar leaned over and gently brushed back a lock of hair from +the girl's brow.</p> + +<p>"Ann, dear, can't you tell me what is the matter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's so very much, it would weary you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, no! Mayn't I stay with you just a little while?"</p> + +<p>Ann checked back her emotion and rose.</p> + +<p>"Pardon, Dear; I didn't dream that you could."</p> + +<p>"Of course I can. Mildred is in Albany. How happy I should be if I could +help you!"</p> + +<p>"Time only will do that, Fledra. It will take many weeks before Horace +and I are running in our old home gait. But I love to have you here, +especially as Horace has gone out for a long drive. He will be away all +the afternoon."</p> + +<p>"That's too bad," interjected Mrs. Vandecar. "I hoped to see him. And, +Ann, I want also to see those children."</p> + +<p>"The girl is riding with Horace today—she gets out so little, and +Brother insisted upon taking her. The boy is still very ill."</p> + +<p>"Is he too ill for me to see him?"</p> + +<p>Ann hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Well, his heart is affected, and anything unusual throws him into a new +spell. We keep all trouble from him."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar touched her friend gently.</p> + +<p>"And you've had enough of his to bear, poor Ann!"</p> + +<p>"We don't consider it a trouble to do anything for those we love. I +wonder if you would like to peep at him—making no noise, remember! He +is sleeping under a drug. Come, Dear, and I'll look at him first."</p> + +<p>The governor's wife followed Ann to Floyd's door, and waited until a +beckoning finger called her in. She entered the darkened chamber, and +paused a moment to get her bearings. Miss Shellington was near the bed, +her eyes calling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He's sound asleep," she whispered.</p> + +<p>With his head thrown back a little, Floyd's face was turned toward the +wall. His profile and thick black curls were sharply distinct upon the +white pillow-slip. His broad brow was covered with beads of +perspiration, and the lips were muttering incoherent words. Mrs. +Vandecar leaned far over the bed, and peered into his face. Something so +touched her in the thin, sunken cheeks, in the drawn mouth, whispering +in an unnatural sleep, that she drew back weeping. Suddenly words formed +on the sleeper's lips:</p> + +<p>"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild," fell from them, "look upon—look upon—" +Then the whisper trailed once more into incoherence.</p> + +<p>Fledra Vandecar clutched at Ann's sleeve.</p> + +<p>"He's praying, Ann! He's praying!" Miss Shellington bowed her head in +assent. "Poor baby, poor little dear!" Mrs. Vandecar's voice was louder +than before.</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush!" breathed Ann. "Come away. He's so very ill!"</p> + +<p>"Pity—pity my simplicity," murmured Floyd again, "and Lord prepare my +soul a—place!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar straightened and flashed the rigid girl at her side an +appealing glance. Ann touched her again, and the two women passed from +the room, weeping.</p> + +<p>"How very beautiful he is!" stammered Mrs. Vandecar. "Oh, Ann, dear, +can't you do something for him? Can't I? Why haven't I tried before? You +won't be offended, will you, Ann, when I say that until this moment I +have never approved of your having him? But I've seldom seen such a +face, and he was—he was praying, poor baby! Poor, little tormented boy! +I wish that he had been awake, or that his sister were here—I want to +see her, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, you should see her. She is very sweet," replied Ann so gravely +that Mrs. Vandecar wept again.</p> + +<p>Very soon she made ready for home, with no hint of the conversation she +had had with Everett, and no word of advice to Ann about giving up her +charges.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-SIX" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-SIX"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX</h3> +</div> + +<p>A letter went that night from Fledra Vandecar to her husband in Albany. +It was written after the woman had paced her room for several hours in +inexplicable disquietude and unrest. Puzzled, the governor read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Dearest</i>.—</p> + +<p>"I went today to see Ann Shellington, with my mind fully made up to +speak to her about the boy and girl who have been with her for +these last few months. Everett was here to dinner last night with +me, and confided in me his trouble with Horace, which has finally +culminated in a breach with Ann. It seems the difficulty arose over +the case of the squatter from Ithaca who has demanded his children.</p> + +<p>"Everett has taken the man's side, and until I called upon Ann I +felt quite in sympathy with him. And still I cannot tell you, +dearest Floyd, what changed my mind, unless it was the sight of +that sick boy. He was sleeping when I went in, and was muttering +over a babyish prayer, which quite touched me. I had no opportunity +to talk with him, nor the girl either. She was riding with Horace, +and Everett tells me that he (Horace) is quite infatuated with the +child.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to ask you, Floyd darling, to help Horace all you can, +and if Everett comes to see you, as he said he was going to, I want +you to know that it is my wish that you should keep to your policy +with Ann and her brother. I cannot tell why I am writing you this, +only that my heart aches for that boy, and that for years I have +never felt so impelled to help a human being as I have him.</p> + +<p>"I thought Everett might tell you that I was won to his way of +thinking by his pleading how he wanted to remove Ann from contact +with the boy and girl; so I hasten to write<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> you. Kiss my precious +Mildred for her mother, and, Floyd, dear, see to it that she +doesn't stay up too late; for she is not strong. I cautioned +Katherine about it; but I'm afraid she might yield to the child's +entreaties.</p> + +<p>"With fondest love to you, my darling, and to my baby and +Katherine, I am,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">"Your own loving wife,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Fledra</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>The governor read and reread the letter, especially the part in which +his wife implored him to aid Horace Shellington. He laid it down with a +sigh. He well knew that Fledra's heart was tender toward all little ones +since the disappearance of her own. All hope that he would ever see his +twin children had left him years before, and now, for some moments, with +his hand on the envelop, his mind wandered into hidden places, where he +saw a boy and a girl growing to manhood and womanhood, and he groaned +deeply.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Later, when Everett Brimbecomb was ushered into his office at the +capital, the governor was primed with the sympathy that he had gathered +from his wife's letter.</p> + +<p>"This is something of a surprise, my dear boy," he said. "I did not know +you were coming to Albany so soon."</p> + +<p>"I came with a purpose," replied Everett; "for, as you know, my father +is away, and I need your advice in something."</p> + +<p>Vandecar waited for his visitor to proceed.</p> + +<p>"Do you see any reason," Everett stammered, "why two young lawyers +should not be friends, even if they have to take opposite sides in a +lawsuit?"</p> + +<p>"No," replied the governor slowly.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll lay the whole thing before you, and let you tell me what you +think of it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have a cigar while we talk," broke in Vandecar, offering Everett his +case.</p> + +<p>In silence they began to smoke, and both remained quiet until the +governor said:</p> + +<p>"Now, explain it to me, please."</p> + +<p>Everett began the story of the children's running away, as the squatter +had told it to him, and of their coming to Horace. He did not forget to +add that he believed Shellington had lied to him the night he came into +the dining-room and discovered Fledra and Floyd with the two little +animals. When a shade passed over the governor's face, Everett quickly +noted that he had made a mistake in the drawing of conclusions.</p> + +<p>"Don't be too hasty, Everett," cautioned Vandecar, shaking an ash +deliberately from his cigar. "Horace is the soul of truth. If he did not +tell it to you, he had good reasons."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb frowned. He could have bitten his tongue out for making that +misstep.</p> + +<p>"That's so," he admitted. "But, ever since last September, Horace, and I +might say Ann, too, have drawn more and more away from me. For my part, +I see no good that can come of their relations with squatters."</p> + +<p>"It was the most charitable act I have ever heard of," replied Vandecar. +"But you are straying from the case. Do I understand that you have taken +up the side of the father?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And that you intend to make a move to return his children to him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>As Everett looked at the stern, unyielding man before him, his excuse to +Mrs. Vandecar seemed tame as it ran through his mind. The governor's +eyes were scanning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> him critically, almost dazzling him with their +steely gray. An expression in the steady gaze made him tremble; but he +took heart as he thought of the friendship between the governor and his +foster father.</p> + +<p>"It's hardly fair to ask me why I took the case, which came to me in a +legitimate manner," said he. "I can see no reason why the man, although +poor, should not have his own children. Do you?"</p> + +<p>It was a pointed question, and Vandecar waived it by saying:</p> + +<p>"There are always circumstances surrounding these things, such as when +parents are cruel to their children, which might make it advisable, +almost imperative, to take the youngsters away and put them with +reputable people. I think Horace is of the impression that this is true +in the present case."</p> + +<p>"Then is one man's opinion to be taken? Do you advise that?"</p> + +<p>"No; but I do not yet understand why you should be interested against +your friends. I should think that, rather than disagree with them, you +would wish to have nothing to do with it."</p> + +<p>Everett would have to use Ann again to convince the governor of his +right to act. It had been far easier to explain his interest in Cronk to +Mrs. Vandecar than to this quiet, powerful man opposite. The +brown-flecked gray eyes looked unusually sober and truth-demanding.</p> + +<p>"I won't have them any longer with Ann than I can help," Everett broke +forth suddenly. "She is killing herself over them. Have you ever seen +them, Mr. Vandecar?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"If you had, then you would agree with me. The fact is, your wife thinks +the way I do, but would not help me because you were pledged to Horace. +Your influence over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> him is great, and I should like to keep this out of +court, if possible. Mrs. Vandecar was rather exercised over Ann."</p> + +<p>With a deliberation that baffled Everett, the governor put down his +cigar and drew a letter from his pocket. He opened it in silence and +glanced at it, while Everett stared uneasily at this unusual proceeding. +Presently the governor looked up casually.</p> + +<p>"You say that my wife is exercised over Ann?"</p> + +<p>"So she told me. She—-"</p> + +<p>"Well, just at this time," interjected Vandecar, "Mrs. Vandecar is very +much in sympathy with the boy. She has seen him, since talking with +you." Everett stood up abruptly. "She has changed her mind; so her +letter tells me, Brimbecomb," went on the elder man, "and, as I am +working with Horace, and this thing touches him so deeply, I shall have +to ask you not to come to me for advice or help. You understand," and +the governor rose also, "that, while I have a deep feeling of interest +in you and your work, I must say that I think it would be better taste +for you to withdraw while you can. It will be unpleasant all around, +and, as your father is away, it is rather dangerous to connect your +office with low people."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Everett went forth from the interview discomfited, but none the less +firm in his evil purpose. Only a few days later, when Lem Crabbe's scow +was slowly making its way from Ithaca to Tarrytown, <i>habeas corpus</i> +papers were served upon Horace Shellington to produce the twins in court +and to give reasons why they should not be given to their father.</p> + +<p>Horace held a consultation with Ann, and it was decided that they should +appeal to the court for time, procuring a doctor's certificate to prove +that Floyd was too ill even to know of the proceedings. This having been +done, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> placed an unlooked-for stay upon Everett Brimbecomb; but he +secured a court order instructing the sheriff to guard the children at +the Shellington home until the boy was well enough to be taken out. So, +a deputy was stationed in the house.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>In the meantime Lon watched eagerly for the coming of Lem. When at last +he espied the scow fastened in its accustomed place, he went down to +carry the news to the owner. After explaining the matter as far as it +had gone, he ventured:</p> + +<p>"Lem, be ye carin' for Flea yet?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" demanded Lem suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"'Cause we can make some money outen her, if ye gives up yer claim on +her."</p> + +<p>"Ye mean to sell her?"</p> + +<p>Lem's words sounded hoarse as he wheezed them out.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't sellin' her," explained Lon. "A whollopin' good-lookin' feller +wants her, and he says he'll buy yer off and give me money fer her. Will +ye do it, Lem?"</p> + +<p>"Nope, I won't! I want her myself. I been waiting long 'nough fer her."</p> + +<p>"But wouldn't ye ruther have a pocketful of money? I would, I bet ye!"</p> + +<p>"Lon, be ye goin' to do me dirt?" asked Lem darkly.</p> + +<p>Lon straightened his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Nope, I told him ye had to be buyed off, afore I could say nothin'. But +I thought ye liked money, Lem."</p> + +<p>"So I do; but I like Flea better. I helped ye get 'em when they were +babies, Lon, and ye said—"</p> + +<p>Cronk flung out his arms.</p> + +<p>"I said as how ye wasn't to mention aloud, even to me, that the kids +wasn't mine. Ye has Flea, if ye say so, and I'll tell the lawyer—"</p> + +<p>"Be it that good-lookin' feller what ye give the fifty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> dollars to what +wants Flea?" Cronk nodded. "I thought ye wouldn't let me marry her," Lem +cried, "and now ye be goin'—"</p> + +<p>Lon interrupted the scowman fiercely:</p> + +<p>"Nuther is he goin' to marry her—ye can bet on that! No kid of +Vandecar's gets a boost up from me—a boost down, more like!"</p> + +<p>"I'll kill the feller if he touches her," growled Lem, "and ye can make +up yer mind to that, Lon!"</p> + +<p>Lon Cronk shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.</p> + +<p>"Take her if ye want her, Lem. I won't put no straw in yer way. But I +never could see what ye wanted her fer. She's a big mouth to feed, let +me tell ye!"</p> + +<p>For some moments the two men sat in the darkening scow and smoked in +silence. Suddenly Lem looked up.</p> + +<p>"We couldn't get ahead of the nasty scamp, could we, Lon? I mean, could +we git the money, and then keep the gal?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want her," growled Lon; "she couldn't stay with me no more."</p> + +<p>"We oughter make him pay the money, though," Lem insisted.</p> + +<p>"Then, if ye has Flea, Lem," said Lon, looking keenly at the scowman, +"and ye git yer share of money, ye has to share up yer half with me. +See?"</p> + +<p>"Yep," muttered Lem. "Will ye bring the feller down here some day, and +we'll talk it over?"</p> + +<p>Lon acquiesced by a nod of his head, saying only, "Come on out, and +let's get a drink."</p> + +<p>"When's he goin' to git 'em—Flea and Flukey, I mean?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno. The boy's too sick to come to court. He's liable to die any +minute."</p> + +<p>Lem started forward at the unexpected word.</p> + +<p>"If he croaks, be ye goin' to leave Flea there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Not by a damn sight! We'll git her, and I don't care if the boy goes +dead afore mornin'. I only want him to suffer, and die if he wants to. +And, Lem," Lon smiled evilly, and, looking into the swart face of his +pal, said, "and I guess ye can make the gal come to yer likin'."</p> + +<p>Lem's throat worked visibly, his face reddened by the silent laughter +that shook him.</p> + +<p>"I only want the chance," he said. "Come on and let's git a drink."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Everett Brimbecomb had become impatient. He missed his evenings with +Ann, and was tortured with the thought that Horace was with Fledra. +Every day made his hatred for his former friend more deadly, more +vindictive, and he not only desired to take the squatter girl away, but +he felt impelled to separate Ann from her brother. He received a badly +spelled note from Lon with a feeling of thanksgiving. Something had +happened to make the squatter wish to see him. So, after dinner, he took +the direction Lon had given, and reached the scow in a heavy rain. It +was much more to his liking that the evening should be stormy; for no +person of his own station in life would be apt to be abroad on such a +night.</p> + +<p>As he entered the living-room of the scow, Everett bowed frigidly to Lem +Crabbe, and forgot to extend his hand to Lon.</p> + +<p>"You sent for me," he said in a low tone, looking at the squatter.</p> + +<p>"Yep. I knowed ye wanted to see Lem, and I thought as how ye'd ruther +come here than have him come along to yer office. Ain't that right?"</p> + +<p>"I believe I told you so," responded Everett coldly, as he took his +place in a rickety chair.</p> + +<p>"Ye said, didn't ye, Mister, that ye wanted the handlin' of Flea after +we took her away from that meddlin' millionaire?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And I telled ye that ye had to make a bargain with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> Lem, 'cause he had +first right to her. What ye willin' to give?"</p> + +<p>"How much money do you want to withdraw your claim from the girl?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't thought 'bout no price," replied Lem covertly.</p> + +<p>"Then think and listen to me. I have an idea in my mind that we can take +the girl away from that house, if not tomorrow, at least in a few days."</p> + +<p>Lem's eyes glistened, and Lon placed his clay pipe carefully upon the +table.</p> + +<p>"Lip it out, then, Mister," said the latter; "and, if me and Lem's +agreein' with ye, then we'll help ye."</p> + +<p>Everett moved uneasily in the creaking chair. He did not desire to +dicker with these ruffians; but it was necessary, if he wished to carry +out his plans concerning Fledra.</p> + +<p>"The boy is likely to die any moment. The girl is the only one who can +help you, Mr. Cronk." Everett had meaning in his voice, and his words +made Lem swallow hard.</p> + +<p>"I was a thinkin' that myself," ruminated Lon.</p> + +<p>"The girl idolizes her brother and Mr. Shellington. If you could make +her understand that they would otherwise both be killed through your +instrumentality, she would leave the house of her own free will, I'm +sure."</p> + +<p>Lon, grimacing with delight, bounded up and faced Lem.</p> + +<p>"That be so! That comes of gittin' a lawyer what's got stuff in his +head, ye see, Lem. I told ye that when ye said as how we could get them +kids without spendin' no money."</p> + +<p>"You will have to use great care, both of you," Everett urged, "and it +only means for you to take the girl, as you first planned, to Ithaca; +and I will come after her. You will both have your money, and our +business together will be at an end." Lem laughed, but with no sound. +"Just how to get this girl is more than I have figured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> out," Everett +continued; "but it might be well for me to try and get a letter to her. +I have been a steady visitor at Shellington's home for many years. We +are hardly upon good terms now; but I could manage it, if one of you men +would write it. Make the letter strong, and you will gain your ends. You +may bring it to my office tomorrow, Mr. Cronk." He rose, buttoned up his +raincoat, and went out, leaving two gaping men looking after him.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Since the papers had been served upon him, Horace had had no peace of +mind. The solemn deputy loitering about the home menaced the whole +future. It sickened him when he forced his imagination to dwell upon +Fledra's future, if she were dragged back to Ithaca, and he had rather +place Floyd in his grave than give him into the hands of the squatter. +Suddenly, one morning, he took a great resolution, and no sooner had he +made up his mind to take the one step that would change his whole life +than he called Ann to tell her about it.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to marry Fledra," he said, catching his breath.</p> + +<p>Ann dropped her hands fearfully; but intense interest gathered on her +face.</p> + +<p>"I can save her no other way," he went on, almost in excuse, noting her +glance. "And you must have seen, Ann, dear, that I love the child. Sit +down here and let me tell you about it."</p> + +<p>He began at the beginning, telling her of his early growing love, of his +desire to make the squatter child his wife. Ann allowed him to narrate +his story impulsively, without interruption.</p> + +<p>Then she said gently:</p> + +<p>"Horace, dear, have you told her that you love her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but I am going to tell her again this morning."</p> + +<p>"Ask her now," suggested Ann eagerly, and she rose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>Horace found Fledra with Floyd, and she lifted her eyes confidingly to +his with a smile. For a long time he had been so tender, so loving, that +the specter bred and fostered by Everett Brimbecomb's kisses had nearly +vanished.</p> + +<p>"Floyd is so much better this morning!" she said. Her words were well +chosen, and she pronounced her brother's new name carefully.</p> + +<p>Floyd held out his hand and raised himself slowly up.</p> + +<p>"Look, Brother Horace!" he cried eagerly. "Look—just this morning I've +been able to stand up! Sister Ann says in a few days I can walk."</p> + +<p>Horace held the thin, white fingers in his for an instant.</p> + +<p>"So you will, boy. It won't be long before you can get out."</p> + +<p>The words startled Fledra. Not until the trouble of Lon's coming had she +wished that Floyd might linger in the sickroom. The man outside, +watching every movement in the house, frightened her. She knew that when +her brother was well enough he and she would be called away for the +court's decision as to their future.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, will you spare your sister just a few moments? I want to talk +with her."</p> + +<p>"Course I will, Brother Horace. Scoot along, Fledra!"</p> + +<p>"This way, child," whispered Horace. "I've something—oh, such a dear +something!—to say to you."</p> + +<p>They quietly passed the deputy, who only raised his eyes, smiled at +Fledra, and dropped his gaze again to his paper. When Horace's door was +closed, Horace took Fledra into his embrace and kissed her again and +again. She loved the warmth of his arms, and the delight of his kisses +caused her to rest unresisting until he chose to speak.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, dear, will you marry me—immediately?"</p> + +<p>His question brought her to rigidity.</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>"I mean that all our troubles are going away."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fledra drew slowly from him.</p> + +<p>"How can our troubles go away?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"By your consenting."</p> + +<p>"I told you once, and more than once, that I couldn't tell you. Won't +you ever understand?"</p> + +<p>But Horace did not loosen his hold upon her. He drew the dark head +against him tenderly.</p> + +<p>"You misunderstood, Fledra. I am going to trust you in everything. I am +going to put all my faith in you, and to save you and your brother from +a fearful life. I must make you my wife!"</p> + +<p>Fledra drew a long breath. All the stumbling petitions she had made to +Heaven were answered by those few words. At last, to be Horace's wife, +to save Flukey, and to protect Ann, who would now have back her lover! +It seemed to the young girl, in this flashing moment of thought, that +all the clouds of the last few months had floated over their heads and +away.</p> + +<p>"It will take a few days before I can arrange our marriage," explained +Horace. "One reason for not arranging today is that I have to run down +to New York for two or three days; and then, too, I must be careful not +to let anyone know of our plans. I want you to talk with my sister. I +have told her that I love you."</p> + +<p>"Was she sorry?" whispered Fledra.</p> + +<p>"No—very, very glad!"</p> + +<p>"And can I tell Floyd?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, just as soon as you like. I have an idea your happiness will go +far to make him well."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>For an hour Horace refused to let her leave him, and when Fledra did go +back to the sick brother her face was radiant with happiness. Floyd was +not prepared for the rush of words or the passionate appeal with which +she met him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>Blinking his eyes, the boy waved his sister back.</p> + +<p>"I can't make out what you're saying, Flea."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to marry Brother Horace!" She stopped, and began again. "I'm +going to marry Horace—oh, so soon, Fluke! And aren't you glad? And then +they can't take us away!"</p> + +<p>It was the first intimation Floyd had had of their danger. He rose up, +standing upon his legs tremblingly.</p> + +<p>"Has anybody been trying to take us away, Flea?"</p> + +<p>Then Fledra realized what she had said, and hesitated in fear.</p> + +<p>"I forgot, you weren't to know, Fluke. Will you wait till I call Brother +Horace?... Fluke, don't be trembling like that! Sit down, Fluke!... +Fluke!"</p> + +<p>Floyd's face had paled, even to the tips of his ears. He realized now +that danger had hung over the fair young sister and he had not known of +it.</p> + +<p>"It's Pappy Lon, and ye never told me, Flea, and that's why ye been so +unhappy! He'll take ye away because yer his kid, and Brother Horace +can't do anything."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he can, Fluke—yes, he can! He loves me, and I love him, and he's +going to marry me! Nobody can't take a wife away from her man!... Fluke, +don't wabble like that! Brother Horace! Brother Horace!"</p> + +<p>Fledra's voice reached the dreaming man, bending over his desk, and he +bounded to answer her call. He found her supporting her brother, white +and shivering, with eyes strained by fright.</p> + +<p>"I told him," gasped Fledra looking up; "but I didn't mean to."</p> + +<p>"Told him what?"</p> + +<p>"Pappy Lon," muttered Floyd, "comin' for Flea!"</p> + +<p>Horace caught the words in dismay.</p> + +<p>He placed the suffering boy on the divan and bent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> close. In low tones +he said that the squatter in some mysterious way had found where they +were, and that he had come for them. He began at the beginning, +explaining to the boy Lon's demand upon him. He refrained, however, from +mentioning Everett, because of the pain to his sister. He had just +finished the story, when Ann softly opened the door and came in.</p> + +<p>"But I insist that you will place your faith in me, Floyd. I shall see +to it that neither you nor your sister leave me—unless you go of your +own free will," Horace concluded.</p> + +<p>"If Pappy Lon takes one of us," muttered Floyd, as Miss Shellington +calmed him with sweet interest, "let him take me. I'm as good as dead, +anyhow. I want Flea to marry Brother Horace."</p> + +<p>"And so she will," assured Ann. "Now then, Dear, try and sleep."</p> + +<p>During the rest of the afternoon Ann held conferences with her brother, +fluttering back and forth from him to Floyd, and then to Fledra. She +noted that the strained expression had gone from the girl's face, and +uttered a little prayer of thanksgiving when she heard Horace's hearty +laugh ring out once more.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>Everett Brimbecomb took the letter Lon Cronk handed him, without rising +from his chair.</p> + +<p>"It be for Flea," said Lon, grinning, "and I think she'll understand it. +It's as plain as that nose on yer face, Mister."</p> + +<p>"May I read it?" asked the lawyer indifferently. Then, as Lon nodded, he +slipped the letter deftly from the finger-marked envelop and read the +contents with a smile. "It's strong enough," he said, replacing it. "I, +too, think she'll succumb to that. If you'll leave this letter with me, +I'll see that she gets it."</p> + +<p>Everett put the envelop in a drawer and implied that the interview was +at an end. But the squatter twirled his cap in his fingers and lingered.</p> + +<p>"Lem says as how he'll take the gal and me in his scow to Ithaca. Ye can +follow us when ye git ready."</p> + +<p>The younger man stood up, nodding his approval.</p> + +<p>"That'll be just the way to do it, and I shall look to you, Mr. Cronk, +to keep faith with me. Frankly speaking, I do not like your friend. I +think he's a rascal."</p> + +<p>"Well, he be a mean cuss; but there be other cusses besides Lem, +Mister."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb flushed at the meaning glance in the squatter's shrewd eyes.</p> + +<p>"All you both have to do," said he bruskly, "is to spend the money I'll +give you—and keep your mouths shut."</p> + +<p>If Everett had noted the crafty expression on the squatter's face as the +latter walked down the street, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> would not have been so satisfied over +his deal with Lon. After he was alone, he reread Cronk's letter. Later +he wrote steadily for sometime. His communication also was for Fledra, +and he intended by hook or crook to get it to her with the other.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>There never had been greater rejoicing in the Shellington home than on +the night when it was settled that Fledra was to marry Horace. It was +decided that after the wedding the girl should have tutors and +professors. A lovelight had appeared in the gray eyes when she promised +Ann that she would study diligently until Horace and Floyd and all her +dear ones would be proud of her advancement. How gently Ann encircled +the little figure before she said goodnight, and how tearfully she +congratulated Horace that he had won such a fond, faithful heart for his +own! Even after kissing Floyd, and tucking the coverlet about his +shoulders, the young woman was again drawn to Fledra.</p> + +<p>"May I come in, Darling?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Fledra did not cease combing her curls before the mirror when she +welcomed Miss Shellington.</p> + +<p>"I simply couldn't go to bed, child," said Ann, "until I came to see you +again. I feel so little like sleeping!"</p> + +<p>Fledra turned a blushing, happy face upon her friend.</p> + +<p>"And I'm not going to sleep tonight, either. I'm going to stay awake all +night and be glad."</p> + +<p>This brought Ann's unhappiness back to her, and she smiled sadly as she +thought of her own tangled love-affair.</p> + +<p>"I want you and my brother to be very happy."</p> + +<p>Fledra dropped her comb and looked soberly at the other.</p> + +<p>"I'm not good enough for him," she said, with a sigh; "but he loves me, +and I love him more than the whole world put together, Sister Ann."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young face had grown radiant with idealized love and faith, and +through the shining gray eyes, in which bits of brown shaded to golden, +Ann could see the girl's soul, pure and lofty. She marked how it had +grown, had expanded, under great love, and marveled.</p> + +<p>"I know that, Dearest. I wish I were as happy as you!"</p> + +<p>The pathos in her tones, the sad lines about Ann's sweet mouth, made +Fledra grasp her hands in girlish impetuousness.</p> + +<p>"He'll come back to you, Sister Ann, some day," she breathed. "He thinks +Pappy Lon ought to have us kids, and that's what makes him work against +you and Brother Horace. He can't stay away from you long."</p> + +<p>Ann shook her head mournfully.</p> + +<p>"I fear he doesn't love me, Fledra, or he couldn't have done as he has. +Sometimes it seems as if I must send for him; for he isn't bad at +heart." She rested her eyes on Fledra's face imploringly. "You think, +don't you, Dear, that when a woman loves a man as I love him her love in +the end will help him?"</p> + +<p>Fledra thought of her own mad affection for Horace, of his love for her, +and of how her longing for him stirred the very depths of her soul, +uplifting and refreshing it. She nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"He'll come back to her, all right," she murmured after Ann had gone and +she had thrown herself on the bed. "Floyd will get well, and Horace and +I—" She dropped asleep, and the morning had fully dawned before she +opened her eyes to another day.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Then, as Fledra sat up in bed, brushed back the curls from her face, and +with the eagerness of a child thought over the happy yesterday, suddenly +her eyes fell upon an envelop, lying on the carpet just beneath her +window. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> had not been there the night before. She slipped to the +floor, picked up the sealed letter with her name on it, and climbed into +bed again, while examining it closely. With a mystified expression upon +her face, she tore open the envelop. Unfolding one of the two letters, +inclosed, she read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Flea Cronk</i>.—</p> + +<p>"This is to tell ye that if ye don't come back with me and Lem, +we'll kill that guy Shellington and Flukey. Flukey can stay there +if he wants to, if you come. Make up yer mind, and don't ye tell +any man that I writ this letter. Come to Lem's scow in the river, +or ye know what I does to Flukey.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">"<span class="smcap">Lon Cronk</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p>Fledra folded up the letter and opened the other one dazedly. It was +written with a masterly pen-stroke, and the girl, without reading it, +looked at the signature. It was signed, "Everett Brimbecomb." Her eyes +flashed back to the beginning, and she read it through swiftly:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"<i>Little Miss Cronk</i>.—</p> + +<p>"I am delivering this letter in a peculiar way, because I know that +you had rather not have anyone see it. It is necessary that you +should think calmly and seriously over the question I am going to +ask you. I am very fond of you. Whether or not you will return my +affection is a thing for you to decide in the future. Now, then, +the question is, Do you want to protect your brother and your +friends from the anger of your father? If so, you must go with him. +I will answer for it that your brother stays where he is; but you +must go away. Think well before you decide not to go; for I know +the men who are determined to have you, and would save you if I +could. I shall try to see you very soon. Destroy this letter +immediately. Your friend,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">"<span class="smcap">Everett Brimbecomb</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +Fledra sat as if in a trance, her eyelids drooping over almost sightless +eyes. The last blow had fallen upon her, and she knew that she must go. +That she could ever be forced away thus without her brother, that Horace +could be given no chance to help her, had never crossed her mind. +Through her imagination drifted Lon's dark, cruel face, followed by a +vision of Lem Crabbe. Feature after feature of the scowman came vividly +to her,—the wind-reddened skin, the foul, tobacco-browned lips, the +twitching goiter,—all added to the nervous chill that had suddenly come +upon the girl. Lem and Lon represented all the world's evil to her, and +Everett Brimbecomb all the world's influence. The three had thrust their +triple strength between her and happiness. Her dear ones should not fall +before the wrath of Lem and Lon, or before the unsurmountable power of +Everett Brimbecomb! In her hands alone lay their salvation. Like one +stunned, she rose from the bed and carefully destroyed the two letters. +This was the one command she would obey promptly.</p> + +<p>When Ann knocked softly at the door, and no answer came, she gently +pushed it open. Fledra lay with her face to the wall as if asleep. Miss +Shellington bent over her, and then crept quietly out to allow the girl +to rest another hour. No sooner had the door closed than Fledra sat up +with clenched fists, her face blanched with terror. She could not +confront the inevitable without help. But not once did it occur to her +that Horace Shellington would be able to protect not only her, but +himself also. The path of her future life stretched from Tarrytown to +Ithaca, straight into Lem's scow!</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Through the entire day the girl was enigmatical both to Horace and to +Ann. Weary hours, crowding one upon another, offered her no relief. The +thought of Lon's let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>ter shattered hope and made her desolate. She did +not stop to reason that her relations with Horace demanded that she tell +him of Everett's perfidy. Had not her loved ones been threatened with +death, if she disclosed having received the letters? She spent most of +the day with Floyd, saying but little.</p> + +<p>In the evening Fledra waited wide-eyed and sleepless until the household +was quiet, and while she waited she pondered dully upon a plan to +escape. Toward night two faint hopes had taken possession of her: +Everett Brimbecomb could help her; Pappy Lon might. Before leaving Floyd +and severing her connections with Horace, she would appeal to the +squatter and his lawyer. She opened the window and looked out. It was +but a short drop to the path at the side of the house.</p> + +<p>At half-past ten Fledra slipped into her coat and set a soft, light cap +upon her black curls. In another minute she had reached the road and had +turned toward Brimbecomb's. To escape any eyes in the house she had just +left, she scurried to the graveyard. For an instant only did she halt, +and, somber-eyed, glance over the graves. She could easily mark the spot +where she had lain so long with Floyd, and tears welled into her eyes as +she thought of him. How many things had happened since then! In hasty +review came week after week of the time she had spent with Horace and +Ann. How she loved them both! Turning, she scanned the gloomy Brimbecomb +house. In the servants' quarters at the top several lights burned, while +on the drawing-room floor a gas-jet shot forth its beams into Sleepy +Hollow. If Mr. Brimbecomb were at home, then he must be in that room. +Fledra crouched under the window.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Brimbecomb! Mr. Brimbecomb!" she called.</p> + +<p>Silence, as dense as that in God's Acre near her, reigned in the house. +She called again, a little louder. Suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> she heard a rapid step upon +the road and crept back again to the corner of the building.</p> + +<p>Everett Brimbecomb was passing under the arc light, and Fledra could see +his handsome face plainly in its rays.</p> + +<p>He stopped a moment and looked at Shellington's house, with a shrug of +his shoulders. Again he resumed his way; but halted as Fledra called his +name softly. From her hiding-place in the shadow of the porch she came +slowly forward.</p> + +<p>"Can I talk with you a few moments, Mr. Brimbecomb?" she faltered. "I +know that you can help me, if you will."</p> + +<p>Everett's heart began to beat furiously. Something in the appealing girl +attacked him as nothing else had. How slim she looked, how lithe and +graceful, and yet so childishly young! He compared her with Ann in rapid +thought, and remembered that he had never felt toward Horace's sister as +he did toward this obscure girl.</p> + +<p>"Come in," he murmured; "we can't talk here. Come in."</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you out here in the night," stammered Fledra.</p> + +<p>Everett touched her arm, urging her forward.</p> + +<p>"They may see us from the Shellingtons'," he said; and, in spite of her +unwillingness, he forced her up the steps. Like the wind of a hurricane, +a mixture of emotions stormed in his soul. He dared not do as he wished +and take the girl in his arms. He checked his desire to force his love +upon her, and motioned to a chair, into which Fledra sank. Like shining +ebony, her black hair framed a death-pale face. The darkness of a new +grief had deepened the shade in the mysterious eyes. For an instant she +paused on the edge of tears.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go back with Pappy Lon!" she whispered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everett caught his breath. She was even more lovely than he had +remembered. Inwardly he cursed the squatters. If he could eliminate them +from his plans—but they were necessary to him.</p> + +<p>"I don't like none o' the bunch of ye!" Fledra burst out in his silence. +Brimbecomb's lips formed a slight smile. The girl pondered a moment, and +continued fiercely, "And I hate Ithaca and all the squatters!"</p> + +<p>"You speak very much like your father," ventured the lawyer. "I can't +understand why you hate him. Your place is with him."</p> + +<p>The girl bowed her head and wept softly. She realized that when she was +excited she could not remember her English.</p> + +<p>"I've been a squatter," she said, forlornly shaking her head, "and I +s'pose Pappy Lon has a right to me; but I love—"</p> + +<p>"You love whom?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Shellington. Oh, Mr. Brimbecomb, can't ye help me to keep away from +Pappy Lon? Can't ye make him see that I don't want to go back—that I +can't go back to Lem Crabbe ever?"</p> + +<p>"There's no danger of your going to—what did you say his name was?"</p> + +<p>"Lem Crabbe—the man with a hook on his arm. I hate him so!"</p> + +<p>"I remember seeing him once. I don't think you need worry over going +with him. Your father is not a fool."</p> + +<p>"He promised me to Lem!" wailed Flea.</p> + +<p>"And he—promised—you to—me!"</p> + +<p>So deliberately did Everett speak that Fledra was on her feet before the +sentence was finished. Horror, deep-seated, rested in the eyes raised to +his. Oh, surely she had not heard aright!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What did ye say?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Your father has promised you to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's why you done it, was it? That's why ye fit Sister Ann and +Brother Horace? 'Cause ye wanted me to go with ye! I hate ye like I +hate—the devil!"</p> + +<p>Her words, grossly coarse, struck and stung the man to action. He strode +forward and grasped her arm roughly in his fingers.</p> + +<p>"You little fury, what do I care how much you hate me? It's a man's +pleasure to conquer a woman like you. You can have your choice between +the other man and me."</p> + +<p>Dumb with fright and amazement, his treachery driving every thought from +her mind for the moment, Fledra looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go with Lem," she got out at last, "'cause I couldn't stand +yer hellish pretty face nor yer white teeth. They look like them big +stones standing over the dead men out yonder."</p> + +<p>With a backward motion of her head toward the window, Fledra drawled out +the last words insultingly. That she preferred Lem to him wounded +Everett's pride, but made him desire her the more. He loved her just +then so much that, if it had been in his power, he would have married +her instantly. Her fine-fibered spirit attracted all the evil in him as +a magnet draws a needle. Fledra brought him from his reverie.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no use of my standin' here any longer," she said. "I might +as well go and ask Pappy Lon. He's better'n you."</p> + +<p>To let her go this way seemed intolerable.</p> + +<p>"Wait," he commanded, "wait! When you came in, I didn't mean to offend +you. Will you wait?"</p> + +<p>"If ye'll help me keep away from Pappy Lon, and will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> promise nothin' +will happen to Brother Horace or to Fluke."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that; it's impossible. But I can take you away, after you +get back to Ithaca."</p> + +<p>"Can I come back to Brother Horace?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; you can't go there again! Now, listen, Fledra Cronk. I'll marry +you as soon as you'll let me."</p> + +<p>Fledra's eyelids quivered.</p> + +<p>"I'll stay with Pappy Lon and Lem, because I love Sister Ann too well to +go with you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought that was the reason," said Everett. "All your hard words +to me were from your tender, grateful heart. That only makes me like you +the better."</p> + +<p>Fledra turned to go.</p> + +<p>"But I don't like you, and I never will. Let me go now, because I'm +goin' down to the scow to Pappy Lon."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb threw out an arm with an impetuous swing; but Fledra darted +under it.</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't!" she cried brokenly. "Don't you never touch me, +never—never! I don't want you to! Let me go now, please."</p> + +<p>Everett stepped aside and allowed her to reach the door.</p> + +<p>"I shall help you, if I can, child," he put in, as she sprang out. +"Remember—"</p> + +<p>But Fledra did not wait to hear. She was outside the door and flying +down the steps.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The wind came sharply from the north as, dejectedly, the girl made her +way to the river. She had decided to appeal to Lon, to beg her future of +him. Before she reached the scow, she could hear the gurgle of the +river, and the sound of the water came familiarly to her ears. Lem's +boat lay like a silent, black animal near the bank, and she came to a +stop at sight of it. How many times had she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> seen the dark boat snuggled +in the gloom as she saw it now! How many times before had the candle +twinkled from the small window, and the sign of life caused her to +shiver in fear! But, thinking of what Lon's consent for her to remain +with her dear ones meant, she mounted the gangplank and descended the +short flight of stairs.</p> + +<p>Lon was seated in a chair by the table, and Lem on a stool nearby. +Crabbe rose as the pale girl appeared before him; but Lon only displayed +two rows of dark teeth. It seemed to him that all his waiting was over; +that his wife's constant haunting of his strong spirit would cease, if +he could tear the girl from her high estate and watch the small head +bend under the indignities Lem would place upon her. The very fact that +she had come when he had sent for her showed the fear in which she held +him.</p> + +<p>Fledra unloosened her wrap from her throat as if it choked her.</p> + +<p>"How d'y' do, Flea?" grinned Cronk. His delight was like that of a small +boy who has captured a bright-winged butterfly in a net.</p> + +<p>"I got yer letter, Pappy Lon," said Fledra, overlooking his impudent +manner.</p> + +<p>"And ye goin' to stay, ain't ye?" gurgled Lem.</p> + +<p>Fledra snapped out "Nope!" to the scowman's question, without looking at +him. Her next words were directed to the squatter:</p> + +<p>"I've come to beg ye, Pappy Lon, to let me stay in Tarrytown. Mr. +Shellington wants to marry me."</p> + +<p>She was so frail, so girlishly sweet and desirable, that Lem uttered an +oath. But Lon gestured a command of silence.</p> + +<p>"Ye can't marry no man yit, Flea," said he. "Ye has to go back to the +hut." Determination rang in his words, and the face of the rigid girl +paled, and she caught at the table for support. "Ye see," went on Lon, +"a kid can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> do a thing her pappy says she can't. I says yer to come +home to the shanty. And, if ye don't, then I'll do what I said I would. +I'll kill that dude Shellington and—"</p> + +<p>Before he could finish, Fledra burst in upon him.</p> + +<p>"Ye mustn't! Ye mustn't, Pappy Lon! I love him so! And he's so good! And +poor little Flukey is so sick, though he's gettin' better, and if I'm +happy, then he'll get well! Don't ye love us one little bit, Pappy Lon?" +She loosened her hold upon the table and neared the squatter.</p> + +<p>Cronk brushed his face awkwardly. The presence of his Midge filled the +scow-room, and his dead baby, wee and well beloved, goaded him to +complete his vengeance. For a few seconds he breathed hard, with +difficulty choking down sobs that shook his whole body. In a haze, the +ghost-woman wavered toward him through the long, bitter years he had +lived without her. She thrust herself between him and Fledra. The image +that his heated brain had drawn up held out a tiny spirit babe, and so +real was the apparition that he put out a trembling hand. For a moment +he groped blindly for something tangible in the nothingness before him. +Then, with a groan, he let his arm fall nerveless to his side. The +vision disappeared, and Lem's presence and even Fledra's faded; for Lon +again felt the agonizing cracking of his bones under the prison +strait-jacket, and could hear himself shrieking.</p> + +<p>He started up and wiped drops of water from his face. He glared at +Fledra, his decision remaining steadfast within him. Only exquisite +torture for Vandecar's flesh and blood would appease the wrath of Midge +and the pale-faced child.</p> + +<p>"I love ye well enough to want ye to do my will," he brought out +huskily, "and when Flukey gits well he'll come with me, too."</p> + +<p>Fledra braced herself for the ordeal. Lon had prom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span>ised her in his +letter that sacrificing herself would mean safety for Floyd and her +lover. She would not allow him to break that promise, however much he +demanded of her.</p> + +<p>Cronk spoke again:</p> + +<p>"Ye'd better take off yer things and set down, Flea 'cause ye ain't +goin' back."</p> + +<p>She made no move to obey him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm goin' back to Flukey," she said, "even if you make me come +here again. I haven't left any letter for him. But I'll come back to the +scow, and go with you and Lem, if you let Fluke stay with Mr. +Shellington. If you take him, you don't get me."</p> + +<p>"How ye goin' to help yerself?" Lon questioned, with a belittling sneer.</p> + +<p>"When I get hold of ye," put in Lem, "ye'll want to stay."</p> + +<p>The squatter again motioned the scowman to silence. A fear, almost a +respect, for this girl, with her solemn gray eyes and unbending manner, +dressed like the people he hated, took root within him.</p> + +<p>Fledra's next address to Lon ignored Lem's growling threat.</p> + +<p>"I didn't come to fight with you, Pappy Lon. But you've got to let me go +back and write a letter. I won't tell anybody that I'm goin' from home. +Mr. Shellington's going to New York tomorrow, to stay four or five days. +That'll give me a chance to get away, and I'll come to you again +tomorrow night. But I'll go with you only when you say that Fluke can +stay where he is. Do you hear, Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>Her face expressed such commanding hauteur, she looked so like Floyd +Vandecar when she threw up her head defiantly, that Cronk's big chest +heaved with satisfaction. To take his grudge out upon her would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +enough. He would cause her to suffer even more than had Midge. He waited +for a few moments, with his eyes fastened upon her face, before he +spoke. He remembered that she had never told him a lie nor broken a +promise.</p> + +<p>"Ye swear that, if I let ye go now, ye'll come back tomorry night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I swear it, if you'll swear that you'll let Fluke alone, and that +you won't ever hurt Mr. Shellington. Do you swear it?" Her voice was +toned with a desperate passion, and she bent toward the squatter in +command.</p> + +<p>"I swear it," muttered Lon.</p> + +<p>"And can I bring Snatchet with me? I want him because he's Flukey's, and +because he'll love me. Can I, Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, damn it! ye can. Bring all the dogs in Tarrytown; but be back +tomorry night."</p> + +<p>"I'll come, all right; but I'm goin' now."</p> + +<p>As the girl turned to go, Lem lumbered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I've got somethin' to say about this!" he stuttered.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, Lem!" commanded Lon.</p> + +<p>Crabbe stood still.</p> + +<p>"That gal don't go back tonight! She's mine! Ye gived her to me, and I +want her now."</p> + +<p>Lem wriggled his body between Fledra and the stairs; but the girl thrust +herself upon him with an angry snarl.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch me with your dirty hands!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>Lem caught his breath.</p> + +<p>"Ye've let that rich pup of a Shellington kiss ye—ye don't move from +here!"</p> + +<p>Fledra crushed back against the cabin wall and eluded his searching +fingers.</p> + +<p>"I was goin' to marry Mr. Shellington; but I ain't now. I'm going back +to him for tonight, and tomorrow, and I'm goin' to let him kiss me, and +I'm goin' to kiss him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<p>She put forward her face until her breath swept Lem's skin.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to kiss him as much—as much as he'll let me. And I'm goin' +to write Fluke; and, if ye touches me afore I does all that—I'll kill +ye!"</p> + +<p>Lena drew back from her vehemence, leaving the way of the staircase +clear, and in another instant Fledra was gone.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-NINE" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-NINE"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The following day Shellington left for New York, immediately after +breakfast.</p> + +<p>Fledra made no attempt to write her farewells until in the evening after +she had looked her last upon Floyd, and Ann had seen her to bed. An hour +passed before she got up softly and turned on the light. She fumbled +warily about her table for writing materials, and after she had found +them her tense face was bent long over the letters. When she had +finished, she stole along the hall to Horace's study, and left there the +tear-stained envelops for him and her brother.</p> + +<p>Once back in her room, she donned her street-clothes rapidly, and, after +taking a silent farewell of the surroundings she loved, climbed through +the window and dropped to the ground. She crept stealthily to the back +of the house and approached the dog-kennels. Through the dim light she +could see the scrawny greyhounds pulling at their leashes as she fumbled +at the wire-mesh door. Whines from several of the dogs made Fledra step +inside, whence she glanced out misgivingly to see if she had been +observed.</p> + +<p>"Snatchet!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>From a distant corner she heard the rattle of a chain.</p> + +<p>"Snatchet!" she called again.</p> + +<p>This time she spoke more loudly and advanced a step.</p> + +<p>"Where are ye?"</p> + +<p>A familiar whine gave her Snatchet's whereabouts. She felt her way +along the right wall, and as she passed each animal she spoke tenderly +to it. Upon reaching the little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> mongrel, Fledra placed her face down +close to him. The glitter of his shining eyes, the warm contact of his +wet tongue, brought tears from her. She told him gently that they were +going away together, going back to the country where many of the evil +persons of the world congregated. The girl took the collar from the +dog's neck and, picking him up quickly, retraced her steps.</p> + +<p>"We're going back to the hut, Snatchet," she told him again, "and +Fledra's going to take you because Floyd won't care when he's got Sister +Ann—and Brother Horace." At the mention of the man's name, the squatter +girl bent her head over the yellow dog and sobbed.</p> + +<p>Then she ran until she was far from the house; but her steps lagged more +and more as she neared the river. Long before she reached it she stopped +and sat down. How intensely she wished that her sacrifice was to wander +alone with Snatchet the rest of her days! Anything would have been +preferable to Lem and his scow. But the bargain with her enemies had +been the surrendering of herself to the canalman, and shortly she rose +and proceeded on her way to the barge. Before entering it, she raised +her eyes to the sky. Everything was at peace with the Infinite, save her +own little tortured soul. She dashed aside her tears and ascended the +gangplank, halting at the top a moment to answer Middy Burnes' familiar +call to her. She saw that Middy had his little tug under steam and was +ready to tow the scow away. Shuddering, Fledra went down the stairs into +the living-room, where Lem and Lon awaited her.</p> + +<p>Neither man spoke when she put Snatchet down on the floor and threw back +the lovely cloak she had received from Ann at Christmas. Lem's eyes +glittered as he looked at it. Before Fledra entered, the scowman had +been industriously tacking a sole on a big leather boot, held tightly +between his knees. Now he ceased working;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> the rusty hook loosened its +hold upon the heel of the boot, and the hammer was poised lightly in his +left hand. From his mouth protruded the sparkling points of some steel +tacks.</p> + +<p>Lon was first to break the strained silence.</p> + +<p>"We been waitin' a long time fer ye, Flea. Ye've kept the tug a steamin' +fer two hours."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't come before," replied the girl. "I had to wait till Fluke +and Sister Ann went to bed."</p> + +<p>Lon sneered as he repeated:</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann!"</p> + +<p>"She's the lady you saw when you were there, Pappy Lon. And she's the +best woman in all the world!"</p> + +<p>The squatter smiled darkly.</p> + +<p>"Ye'd best put Snatchet in the back room, and then come here again and +set down, Flea, 'cause it'll take a long time to get to Ithaca, and +ye'll be tired a standin'."</p> + +<p>His sarcasm caused no change to cross the girl's face; but Lem grinned +broadly. He took the tacks from between his teeth and made as if to +speak. After a few vain stutters, however, he replaced the tacks and +hammered away at the old boot. Now and then the goiter moved up and +down, each movement indicating the passage of a thought through his +sluggish brain.</p> + +<p>Fledra removed Snatchet and returned to the living-cabin, as Lon had +suggested.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you before I sit down," she said in a low tone. "What +are you going to do with me?"</p> + +<p>Just then the scow lurched, and the whistle of the tug ahead screamed a +farewell to Tarrytown. Fledra heard the grinding of the boat against the +landing as it was pulled slowly away, and she sprang to the window. She +took one last glimpse of the promised land, one lingering look at the +twinkling lights, which shone like glow-worms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> and seemed to signal +sympathy to the terrified girl. Finally she turned a tearless face to +Lon.</p> + +<p>"I want to know what you're going to do with me when we get to Ithaca. +Can I stay awhile with Granny Cronk?"</p> + +<p>She glanced fearfully from Lon to the scowman, whose lips were now free +of the nails. His wide smile disclosed his darkened teeth as he +stammered:</p> + +<p>"Yer Granny Cronk's been chucked into a six-foot hole in the ground, and +ye won't see her no more."</p> + +<p>Staring at the speaker, Fledra fell back against the wall.</p> + +<p>"Granny Cronk ain't dead! She ain't! You're lying, Lem Crabbe!"</p> + +<p>"Ask yer daddy, if ye don't believe me," grunted Lem.</p> + +<p>Fledra cast imploring eyes to Lon.</p> + +<p>"Yer granny went dead a long time ago," verified the squatter.</p> + +<p>"Then I can stay with you, Pappy Lon, just for a little time. Oh, Pappy +Lon," tears rose slowly, and sobs caught her throat as she advanced +toward him, "I'll cook for you, and I'll work days and nights, if I can +live with you!" She was so near him that she allowed a trembling hand to +fall upon his arm. But he spurned it, shaking it off as he growled:</p> + +<p>"Don't tech me! Set down and shut up!"</p> + +<p>She passed over the repulse and sobbed on:</p> + +<p>"But, Pappy Lon, I'd rather die, I'd rather throw myself in the water, +than stay with Lem in this boat! I want to tell you how I've +prayed—Sister Ann taught me to. I always asked that Flukey might stay +in Tarrytown, and that nothing would ever hurt Mr. Shellington. I never +dared pray for myself, because—because God had enough to do to help all +the other ones, and because I never asked anything for myself till you +found me. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> want to stay right in the shanty with you, Pappy Lon. I +hate Lem—oh, how I hate him!"</p> + +<p>Lem coughed and wheezed.</p> + +<p>"I guess we'd better shet her claptrap once and fer all," he said. "Lon, +ye leave me to settle with Flea—I know how."</p> + +<p>The squatter silenced Lem with a look and rose lumberingly. As he struck +a match and made toward the steps, Fledra followed close after him.</p> + +<p>"Pappy Lon, if you'll stay with me here on the boat till we get to +Ithaca, then I'll do what you say when we get there. You sha'n't go and +leave me now with Lem, you sha'n't, you sha'n't!" Her voice rose to a +shriek, and her small body trembled like a leaf in a wind. So loud were +her cries, and so fiercely did she clutch at Lon's coat, that he turned +savagely upon her.</p> + +<p>"I'll do what I please. Shet up, or Middy'll hear ye. Git yer hands off +en me!"</p> + +<p>"Pappy Lon, if you leave me with Lem, then I'll jump in the river!"</p> + +<p>She bit her lips to stifle the sobs; but still clung beseechingly to his +coat.</p> + +<p>Lon stepped backward from the chair, and whirled about so quickly that +his coat was jerked from Fledra's grasp.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take Fluke, and what I won't do to him ain't worth speakin' +'bout." He glanced at her face and stopped. Never had he seen such an +expression. Her bleeding lips and flaring eyes sent him a step from her.</p> + +<p>"If you leave me with Lem," she hissed her repetition, "then I'll jump +in the river!" Seeing that he hesitated, she went on, " You stay right +in here with Lem and me, Pappy Lon, and when we get to the hut I'll do +what you tell me."</p> + +<p>Fledra heard Lem drop the old boot he had been mend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span>ing and advance +toward her. She turned upon him, and the scowman halted.</p> + +<p>"I said as how I'd settle with ye, Flea," he said, "and now I'm goin' +to."</p> + +<p>But Lon glared so fiercely that Crabbe closed his mouth and retreated.</p> + +<p>"It ain't time fer ye to settle yet, Lem, I'm a thinkin'," said Lon. "Ye +keep shet up, or I'll settle with ye afore ye has a chance to fix Flea." +Turning to the girl, he questioned her. "Did ye tell anyone ye was goin' +with me?" Fledra nodded her head. "Did ye tell Flukey?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and Mr. Shellington. But I told them both that I came of my own +free will. But you know I came because I wanted Mr. Shellington to live +and Flukey to stay where he is. But I ain't going to be alone in this +room with Lem tonight—I tell you that!"</p> + +<p>Lon sat down and smoked moodily on his pipe. After a few minutes' +thought he said:</p> + +<p>"Ye can sleep in that back room where ye put the dorg, Flea, and if +there's a key in the lock ye can turn it. You come up to the deck with +me, Lem."</p> + +<p>With a dark scowl, the scowman followed the squatter upstairs. He had +reckoned that the hour to take Flea was near; but Lon's heavy hand held +him back. When they were standing side by side in the darkness of the +barge-deck, Cronk spoke.</p> + +<p>"Lem," he said, "I told ye before that Flea ain't like Flukey. She'd +just as soon throw herself into that water as she'd look at ye. She +ain't afraid of nothin' but you, and ye've got to keep yer hands offen +her till I git her foul, do ye hear?"</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't keepin' me away just fer the sake of that high-toned +Brimbecomb pup, be ye, Lon?"</p> + +<p>"Nope. I'd rather you'd have her, Lem, 'cause ye'll beat her and make +her wish a hundred times a day that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> she'd drowned herself. I say, if ye +let me fix this thing, ye'll come out on the top of the heap. If ye +don't, she'll raise a fuss, and, if that damned governor gets wind of +it, he might catch on that the kid be his. He'd run us both down afore +ye could say jackrabbit. Ye let Flea alone till I say ye can have her."</p> + +<p>"If yer dealin' fair—"</p> + +<p>The squatter interrupted his companion with an angry growl.</p> + +<p>"Have I ever cheated ye out of any money?"</p> + +<p>"Nope," answered Lem.</p> + +<p>"Then I won't cheat ye out of no girl; fer I love a five-cent piece +better'n Flea any time. Now, shet up, and we'll go down to sleep!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Fledra fled into the back room, and, closing the door quickly, slipped +the bolt. She glanced about the cabin, which through the candlelight +looked dirty and miserably mean. But it was a haven of escape from Lem, +and she welcomed it. A large can of tobacco was on a wooden box. Fledra +knew this belonged to the canalman and that he would come after it. She +picked it up, and, opening the door, shoved it far into the other room. +She could bear Lon's muttering voice on the deck above, and the swish of +the water as the tug pulled the scow along. Once more she carefully +locked the cabin door, and then, with a sob, dropped to her knees, +burying her face in the coarse blanket that covered the bunk. Long and +wildly she wept, her sobs frequently stopping the utterance of an +attempted prayer. Finally her exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into +a troubled sleep.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Fledra opened her eyes the next morning she could not at first +realize where she was. When she did she rose from the bed fully dressed; +for she had taken off none of her clothing the night before. She drew a +long breath as she realized that she would not be pestered by Lem during +the trip to Ithaca. Peering through the small cabin window, she could +see that they were slowly passing the farms on the banks of the river as +the barge was towed slowly through the water. The peace of spring +overspread each field, covering the land as far as the girl could see. +Herds of cattle grazed calmly on the hills, and she could hear the faint +tinkling of their bells above the chug-chug of Middy's small steamer +ahead. At intervals fleets of barges, pulled along by struggling little +tugboats, passed between her and the bank. These would see +Tarrytown—the promised land of Screech Owl's prophecy, the paradise she +had been forced to leave! The light of self-sacrifice shone in her +uplifted eyes, and many times her sight was blurred by tears; but no +thought of escape from Lem and Lon came to her mind. To reenter her +promised land would place her beloved ones in jeopardy.</p> + +<p>Her reverie left her at a call from Lon, and she unfastened the +cabin-door.</p> + +<p>"Come out and get the breakfast fer us, Kid," ordered the squatter.</p> + +<p>Fledra left the little room and mechanically prepared the coarse food. +When it was ready, she took her seat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> opposite Cronk, and Lem dragged a +chair to the table by the aid of the hook on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Ye're feelin' more pert this mornin', Flea," said Lon, after drinking a +cup of black coffee.</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Flea faintly.</p> + +<p>"And are ye goin' to mind yer pappy now?" pursued Lon.</p> + +<p>"Yes, after we get to Ithaca," murmured Fledra.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what ye said to Flukey in yer note."</p> + +<p>"I told him he could stay with Brother Horace; but that I'd go with you, +and—"</p> + +<p>Her slow precise speech made a decided impression upon Lem; for he +ceased eating and stared at her open-mouthed. But Cronk brought his fist +down on the table with a thump that rattled the tin dishes.</p> + +<p>"Don't be puttin' on no guff with me, brat!" he shouted. "Ye talk as I +teeched ye to, and not as them other folks do."</p> + +<p>Fledra fell into a resentful silence.</p> + +<p>After a few seconds, Cronk said:</p> + +<p>"Now, go on, Kid, and tell me what ye told him."</p> + +<p>"If you won't let me speak as I like, Pappy Lon, then I'll keep still."</p> + +<p>The girl faced him with brave unconcern, with such reckless defiance +that Lon drew down his already darkened brow.</p> + +<p>"Yer gettin' sassy!" Lem grunted, with his mouth full of food.</p> + +<p>Cronk held his peace. He peered at her covertly, as if he would discover +what had so changed her since the night before. Her dignity, the haughty +poise of her head as she looked straight at him, filled him with +something like dismay. Would Lem be able to subdue her with brute force? +The scowman also observed her stealthily, compared her to Scraggy, and +wondered. They both waited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> for Fledra to continue; but during the rest +of the meal she did not speak again.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Miss Shellington was deeply surprised when the deputy met her with an +open letter in his hand, and said:</p> + +<p>"The court has called me away, Ma'm. I guess your troubles are all +over."</p> + +<p>For a moment Ann did not comprehend the meaning of his words. Then she +laid a trembling hand on his arm and faltered:</p> + +<p>"Possibly they'll send someone else; but I'd much rather you'd stay. We +are—we are used to you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Ma'm; but no one else won't come—the case has been called +off."</p> + +<p>Increasing excitement reddened Miss Shellington's cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think they are going to leave them here with us?"</p> + +<p>The deputy buttoned his coat and put on his hat.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know; but I'd almost think so, or I wouldn't have got +this order." He tapped his breast-pocket and made as if to go; but he +faced the other once more instead, with slightly rising color. "You +still have your doctor's orders, Miss, that nobody can take the boy away +for sometime; so don't worry. And, Ma'm," the red in his face deepened, +"you ain't prayed all these weeks for nothing. I ain't much on praying +myself; but I've got a lot of faith in a pretty, good young lady when +she does it. Goodby, Ma'm."</p> + +<p>As Ann bade the officer farewell, the relief from haunting fears and +racking possibilities almost overcame her. She went back to Floyd, +resolutely holding up under the strain. She told him that the stranger +had gone; but that, as she had received no communication, she did not +know the next steps that would be taken.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was nearly nine o'clock when Ann tapped softly upon Fledra's door. +There had been no sign of life from the blue room that morning; for Miss +Shellington had given orders that Fledra be allowed to sleep if she so +wished. Now, however, she wanted the girl to come to the dining-room to +welcome Flukey to his first meal at the table and to learn that the +deputy had been withdrawn. When no voice answered her knock, Ann turned +the handle of the door and peeped in. Fledra's bed was open, and looked +as if its occupant had just got up. Miss Shellington passed through to +the bathroom, and called. She ran back hastily to the bed and put her +hand upon it. The sheets were cold, while the pillow showed only a faint +impression where Fledra's dark head had rested. Miss Shellington paused +and glanced about, fright taking the place of expectancy on her face. +She hurried to the open window and looked out. Then she rushed to the +kitchen and questioned the servants. None of them had seen Fledra, all +were earnestly certain that the girl had not been about the house during +the morning. Ann thought of Floyd, and for the nonce her fears were +forced aside. In spite of her anxiety, she had a smile on her lips as +she entered the breakfast-room and took her seat opposite the boy.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to eat without Sister this morning," she said gently to the +convalescent. "She's a tired little girl."</p> + +<p>"She'd be glad to see me here," said Floyd wistfully. "Sister Ann, +what's the matter with Fledra?"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington would have given much to have been able to answer this +question. Finally her alarm became so strong that she left her breakfast +unfinished, and, unknown to Floyd, instituted a systematic search for +the girl. Many were the excuses she made to the waiting young brother as +the day lengthened hour by hour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> Again and again he demanded that +Fledra be brought to him. At length the parrying of his questions by +Miss Shellington aroused his suspicions, so that he grew nervous and +fretful. Five o'clock came, and yet no tidings of the girl. Ann's +anxiety had now become distraction; for her brother's absence threw upon +her shoulders the responsibility of the girl's disappearance, and the +care of Floyd should he suffer a relapse. Her perturbation became so +unbearable that she put her pride from her, and sought the aid of +Everett Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>She called him on the telephone, and, when his voice answered her +clearly over the wire, she felt again all her old desire to be with him; +her agitation and uncertainty increased her longing.</p> + +<p>"Everett, I'm in dreadful trouble. Can't you come over a moment?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, dear girl. I'll come right away."</p> + +<p>Not many minutes later Ann herself ushered Everett into the +drawing-room, where she had spent such happy hours with him. But, when +they were alone, her distrust of him once more took possession of her, +and she looked sharply at him as she asked:</p> + +<p>"Everett, do you know where Fledra has gone?"</p> + +<p>"Who? Fledra Vandecar?" His taunt was untimely, and his daring smile +changed her distrust to repulsion.</p> + +<p>"No; you know whom I mean—Fledra Cronk. She's, not here. Horace has +gone away for a few days, and I'm wild with anxiety. Will you help me +find her, Everett? She must be here with us until it is decided which +way the matter will go."</p> + +<p>They had been standing apart; but the girl's words drew him closer, and +he took her hand in his. He had truly missed her, and was glad to be in +her confidence once more.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ann, you've never been frank with me in this matter; but I'm going to +return good for evil. I really don't know where the girl is; still, +anything I can do I will. But I do know that her father has seen her; +for he told me about it. It was—"</p> + +<p>Ann cut him off with a sharp cry:</p> + +<p>"But he's seen her only the once, Everett—only that one afternoon when +he first came."</p> + +<p>This time Everett answered with heart-rending deliberateness:</p> + +<p>"You're mistaken, Ann. Your paragon got out of the window when you were +all asleep," Ann's sudden pallor disturbed the lawyer only an instant, +and, not heeding her clutch on his arm or a pained ejaculation from her, +he proceeded, "and went to her father. He told me this. Ann, don't be +stupid. Don't totter that way. Sit down, here, child. No, don't push me +away.... Well, as you please!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you seem so heartless about it," gasped Ann, "when you know how +Horace loves her!"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington did not notice the smile that crossed his lips as he +looked down at her, or the triumph in his eyes when he said:</p> + +<p>"But, Ann, I've told you only what you've asked of me. I think you're +rather unkind, Dear."</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to be," she moaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. +"Oh! she was with us so long! What shall I say to Horace?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you say he was out of town?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, for four or five days," Ann put the wrong meaning to Everett's +deep sigh, and she finished; "but I'm going to send for him."</p> + +<p>"And, pray, what can he do? The girl is gone, and that ends it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But Horace might ascertain if she had been forced to go."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb laughed low.</p> + +<p>"No one could force her to jump from the window of her bedroom."</p> + +<p>"Everett, Fledra has always said that she hated her father, and that she +never wanted to go back to him, because he abused both her and her +brother."</p> + +<p>"Yes, so you told me before, and I think I remember telling you that you +were making a mistake in trusting in her truthfulness. It seems her +brother told her that he did not wish to return with the squatter; so +she left him here with you. For my part," Everett pressed closer to her, +"I'm glad that she is gone. The coming of those children completely +changed both you and Horace. You'll get used to ingratitude before +you've done much charity work."</p> + +<p>Ann's intuition increased her disbelief in the man opposite her.</p> + +<p>"Everett, will you swear to me that you had nothing to do with her +going?"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb swore glibly enough, and supplemented his oath with:</p> + +<p>"I've always felt, though, that you should not have them here; and I +can't say that I shouldn't have taken them away, if I could, Ann. Don't +you think we could overlook past unpleasantness, and let our +arrangements go on as we intended they should?"</p> + +<p>Ann rose hastily to her feet. She was sorely tempted to fall into his +arms. How handsome he looked, how strongly his eyes pleaded with her! +But her vague fears and distrust held her back. She sank again to the +chair.</p> + +<p>"No, no—not just yet, Everett," she said. "I've loved you dearly; but I +can't understand Fledra's disap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span>pearance. Oh, I—I don't know how to +meet Horace! He loved and trusted her so!" Again she looked at him with +indecision. "Come back to me, Dear," she whispered, "when it is all +over. I'm so unhappy today!"</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-ONE" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-ONE"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Floyd raised his head when Ann bent over him. Agitation and sorrow had +so altered her that the change brought him to a half-sitting position.</p> + +<p>"Flea's sick, I bet!" he burst out, without waiting to be addressed. +"Don't try to fool me, Sister Ann."</p> + +<p>As his suspicion grew within him, his eyes traveled over her face again +and again; then he put his feet on the floor and stood up.</p> + +<p>"Ye didn't tell me the truth this morning, did ye?"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington forced him gently back on the divan, and sat down +beside him.</p> + +<p>"I'd hoped, Floyd, dear," she said tremblingly, "that we were all going +to be happy. You must be brave and help me, won't you? If you should +become ill again, I think I should die."</p> + +<p>"Then, tell me about Flea. Has Pappy Lon—"</p> + +<p>"Fledra went back to him last night of her own free will."</p> + +<p>With eyes growing wide from fear, Floyd stared at her.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean! Did she tell ye she was a goin'?"</p> + +<p>"No, Dear. This morning Fledra was not in her bedroom, and for awhile I +thought she had not heeded our cautions, but had gone out for a walk. +But Mr. Brimbecomb has just told me that Fledra went back with your +father, and that, she had not been forced to go."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it!" The boy's voice was sharp with agony. "Pappy Lon +made her go—ye can bet on that,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> Sister Ann! Flea wouldn't go back +there without a reason. I bet that big duffer of yours had a finger in +the pie."</p> + +<p>Ann flushed painfully.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, dear, don't, I beg of you!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I said that, Sister Ann. But Flea didn't go for nothin'. +Sister Ann, will you and Brother Horace find out why she went? I have to +go, too, if Flea's in the hut. Pappy Lon and Lem'll kill her!"</p> + +<p>He attempted to rise; but Ann's restraining hand held him back.</p> + +<p>"Floyd, Floyd, dear, we don't know where she's gone; but my brother will +come soon, and he'll find her. He won't let Fledra be kept from us, if +she wants to come back."</p> + +<p>The boy's rigid body did not relax at her assurance, nor did her +argument lessen his determination.</p> + +<p>"But what about Lem? You don't know Lem, Sister Ann. He's the worst man +I ever see. I've got to go and get my sister!"</p> + +<p>"Floyd, you'd die if you should try to go out now. Why, Dear, you can +scarcely stand. Now, listen! I'll send a telegram to my brother, and +he'll be right back. Then, if you are determined to go, and can, he'll +take you. Why, child, you haven't been out in weeks!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Three days crawled slowly along, and yet Horace made no response to the +many frantic telegrams that Ann had sent. Never had the hours seemed so +leaden-winged as those passed waiting for him to come. Ann had received +one note from him, and three letters for Fledra lay unopened in the +girl's room. His note to Ann was from Boston, and she immediately sent a +despatch to him there.</p> + +<p>On the fourth day after Fledra's disappearance, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> Ann met her +brother, one glance told her that he was unaware of their trouble.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Horace, I thought you'd never get here! Didn't you receive any of +my telegrams?"</p> + +<p>"No! What's the matter? Has something happened to Floyd? Where's +Fledra?"</p> + +<p>"Gone!" gasped Ann.</p> + +<p>"Gone! Gone where?"</p> + +<p>His voice was filled with imperious questioning, and Ann stifled her +sobs.</p> + +<p>"I know only what Everett has told me. When we got up the morning after +you left, she was gone. I called Everett over, and he told me she went +with her father of her own free will. The squatter told him so."</p> + +<p>"He's a liar! And if he's inveigled that girl—"</p> + +<p>Ann's loyalty to Everett forced her to say:</p> + +<p>"Hush, Horace! You've no right to say anything against him until you are +sure."</p> + +<p>Shellington took several rapid strides around the room.</p> + +<p>"If I'd only known it before!"</p> + +<p>"I've tried to reach you," Ann broke in; "but my messages could not have +been delivered."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Ann," he said in a lower tone. "But those men +in some way have forced her to go. I'm sure of it! Fledra would never +have gone with them willingly. Did she leave no message, no word? Have +you searched my room? Have you looked every where?"</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't look in your room—it didn't enter my mind. Why didn't I +think of that before? Come, we'll look now."</p> + +<p>Under the large blotter on his desk Horace found the two tear-stained +letters Fledra had left. With a groan the frantic lover tore open the +one directed to him and read it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She's gone with them!" he said slowly in a hollow voice, and sank into +a chair.</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington took the note from his outstretched hand, and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Mr. Shellington</i>.—</p> + +<p>"I'm going away because I don't like your house any more. Let Floyd +stay and let your sister take care of him like when I was here. +Give him this letter and tell him I'll love him every day. I took +Snatchet because I thought I'd be lonely. Goodby."</p></div> + +<p>The last words were almost illegible. With twitching face, Ann handed +the letter back to Horace.</p> + +<p>In the man before her she almost failed to recognize her brother, so +great was the change that had come over him. She threw her arms tenderly +about him, and for many minutes neither spoke. At length, with a start, +Horace loosened his sister's arms and stood up.</p> + +<p>"Give Floyd his note—and leave me alone for a while, Dear."</p> + +<p>His tone served to hasten Ann's ready obedience. She took the note for +Floyd and went out.</p> + +<p>Four times Horace read and reread his letter. He was tortured with a +thousand fears. Where had she gone, and with whom? And why should she +have left him, when she had so constantly and sincerely evinced her love +for him? She could not have gone back to the squatters; for her hatred +of them had been intense. He remembered what she had told him of Lem +Crabbe—and sprang to his feet with an oath. Hot blood rushed to his +fingertips, and left them dripping with perspiration. He fought with a +desire to kill someone; but banished the thought that Fledra had not +held faith with him. He called to mind her affection and passionate +devotion, and knew that to doubt her would be unjust. But, if to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> leave +him had made her unhappy, why had she gone? He thought of Floyd's +letter, and a sudden wish to read it seized him.</p> + +<p>When he entered the boy's room Floyd was lying flat on his back, staring +fixedly at Miss Shellington, who was deciphering the letter for him. She +ceased reading when her brother appeared.</p> + +<p>"Horace," she said, rising, "Floyd says he doesn't believe that Fledra +went of her own free will. He thinks she was forced in some way."</p> + +<p>Horace stooped and looked into the boy's white face, at the same time +taking Fledra's letter from Ann.</p> + +<p>"Flea can't make me think, Brother Horace," said Flukey, "that she went +'cause she wanted to. Pappy Lon made her go, I bet! There's something we +don't know. I want you to take me up there to Ithaca, and when I get +there I can find her. Prayin' won't keep her from Lem. We've got to do +something."</p> + +<p>Horace shot a glance of inquiry at his sister.</p> + +<p>"We prayed every morning, Dear," she said simply, "that our little girl +might be protected from harm."</p> + +<p>"She shall be protected, and I will protect her! Where's the deputy?"</p> + +<p>"They called him away the morning Fledra left."</p> + +<p>"May I read your letter, Floyd?"</p> + +<p>"Sure!" replied the boy wearily.</p> + +<p>Shellington's eyes sought the paper in his hand:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Floyd love</i>.—</p> + +<p>"I'm going away, but I will love you every day I live. Floyd, could +you ask Sister Ann to pray for everyone—me, too? Forgive me for +taking Snatchet—I wanted him awfully. You be good to Sister Ann +and always love Brother Horace and mind every word he says. I'm +going away because I want to. Remember that, Floyd dear, goodby.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right"> +"<span class="smcap">Fledra</span>."</p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +After finishing the letter, Horace said to Ann, "I must see Brimbecomb +at once." And he turned abruptly and went out. Ann followed him +hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"Horace, dear, you won't quarrel with him, for my sake."</p> + +<p>"Not unless he had a hand in taking her away. God! I'm so troubled I +can't think."</p> + +<p>Ann watched him go to the telephone; then, with a premonition of even +greater coming evil, she crept back to Floyd.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-TWO" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-TWO"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Horace ushered Brimbecomb into his home, so firm was his belief +that the young lawyer had been instrumental in removing Fledra that he +restrained himself with difficulty from wringing a confession from the +man by violence. For many moments he could not bring himself to broach +the subject of which his mind was so full. Everett, however, soon led to +the disappearance of the girl.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you telephoned me so soon after your arrival," said +Brimbecomb. "I was just starting for the station. If you hadn't, I +shouldn't have seen you. I had something to say to you."</p> + +<p>"And I have something to say to you," said Horace, his eyes steadily +leveled at the man before him. "Where is Fledra Cronk?"</p> + +<p>Everett's confidence gave him a power that was not to be daunted by this +direct question.</p> + +<p>"My dear fellow," he replied calmly, "I don't exactly know where she is; +but I can say that I've had a note from her father, telling me that she +was with him in New York, and safe. I suppose it won't be necessary to +tell you that she was not compelled to go?"</p> + +<p>Horace whitened with suppressed rage. He was now convinced that the +suavity of his colleague concealed a craftiness he had never suspected, +and he felt sure that Everett had taken advantage of his absence to +strike an underhanded blow. Banishing a desire to fell the other to the +floor and then choke the secret from him, he de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span>cided to ply all the +craft of his profession, and draw the knowledge from Brimbecomb by a +series of pertinent queries.</p> + +<p>"May I see the communication you have received from Cronk?"</p> + +<p>Everett seemed to have expected the question; for he made a brave +pretense of looking through his wallet for the fictitious letter. He +took up the space of several minutes, arranging and rearranging the +documents. Then, as he looked at Horace, a paper fluttered to the floor, +unobserved by him.</p> + +<p>"On second thought," said he, "I think it wouldn't be quite right to +show you a private letter from one of my clients. I have told you enough +already. I'm sorry, but it's impossible for me to let you see it."</p> + +<p>Everett mentally congratulated himself upon his diplomacy, while Horace +bit his lip until it was ridged white. In his disappointment he cast +down his eyes, and then it was that his attention was called to the +paper Brimbecomb had dropped on the floor. He changed his position, and +when he came to a standstill his foot was planted squarely on the paper. +For a moment Horace was under the impression that Everett had seen him +cover the letter; but the unruffled egotism on the face of the other +betrayed no suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Who ordered the withdrawal of the deputy?" Horace demanded.</p> + +<p>Everett knew that the lies he told would have to be consistent; so he +repeated what he had said to Ann.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Everett said. "I didn't."</p> + +<p>Horace gazed at his companion for several seconds.</p> + +<p>"Something tells me that you're lying," he said finally.</p> + +<p>An evil change of expression was the only external sign of Brimbecomb's +longing to throttle Horace.</p> + +<p>"A compliment, I must say, my dear Shellington,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> he said; "and the only +reason I have for not punching you is—Ann."</p> + +<p>The other's eyes narrowed ominously.</p> + +<p>"Ann is the one who is keeping me from thumping you, Brimbecomb. If you +know anything of Fledra Cronk, I want you to tell me."</p> + +<p>"I've told you all I know," Everett answered.</p> + +<p>"For Ann's sake, I hope you've told me the truth; but, if you haven't, +and have done anything to my little girl, then God protect you!"</p> + +<p>The last words were uttered with such emotional decision that Everett's +first real fear rose within him. With difficulty he held back a torrent +of words by which he might exonerate himself. Instead, he said:</p> + +<p>"Some day, Shellington, you'll apologize to me for your implied +accusation. You have taken—"</p> + +<p>"Pardon me," Horace interrupted, "but I must ask you to leave. I'm going +to Governor Vandecar."</p> + +<p>No sooner had his visitor closed the door than Horace stooped and picked +up the paper from under his foot. Going to the window, he opened the +sheet, smoothed it out, and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<i>Mr. Brimbecomb</i>.—</p> + +<p>"I told you I got the letter you wrote me, and you know I can't +ever love you. I hate your kisses—they made me lie to Sister Ann, +and I couldn't tell Brother Horace how it happened. I am going back +to Lem and Pappy Lon to Ithaca because you and Pappy Lon said as +how I must or they would kill Brother Horace. But I hate you, I +hate you—and I will always hate you.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right"><span class="smcap">Fledra Cronk</span>."</p></div> + +<p>Like a brand of fire, every word seared the reader's brain. As his hand +crushed the letter, Horace's head dropped down on his arm, and deep sobs +shook him. The girl had gone for his sake, and was now braving +un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span>speakable dangers to save him from an evil trumped up by his enemies. +Tense-muscled, he sprang to his feet and rushed into the hall.</p> + +<p>"My God! What a fool I've been! Ann, Ann! Here, read this!" His words, +pronounced in a voice unlike his own, were almost incoherent. He threw +the paper at the trembling girl, as he continued, "Brimbecomb dropped it +on the floor. Now I think Governor Vandecar will help me! I'm going to +Ithaca!"</p> + +<p>With the letter held tightly in her hands, the woman read over twice the +pitiful denunciation; then, tearless and strong, she went to her +brother.</p> + +<p>"What—what are you going to do for her first, Dear?"</p> + +<p>"I must go to Albany and see the governor."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>In the flurry of the departure little more was said, and before an hour +had passed Horace Shellington had taken the train for Albany. He had +instructed Ann to tell Floyd what had induced Fledra to leave them, and +Ann lost no time in communicating the contents of the little +tear-stained letter written to Everett.</p> + +<p>Later in the day Ann received a telegram from her brother in which she +learned that he had missed the governor, who was on his way to +Tarrytown. Horace said, also, that he himself was starting for Ithaca by +way of Auburn. Ann sat down beside Floyd and read the message to him.</p> + +<p>"Did he say," asked the boy, "that the governor was comin' here to +Tarrytown?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>For many moments Floyd lay deep in thought.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to Governor Vandecar's myself. If he's the big man ye say he +is, then he can help us. Get me my clothes, Sister Ann."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It won't do any good, Floyd," argued Ann. "Governor Vandecar has always +thought that your father ought to have his children. He doesn't realize +how you've suffered through him."</p> + +<p>"I'm goin', anyway," insisted Floyd doggedly. "Get my clothes, Sister +Ann. I can walk."</p> + +<p>"No, you mustn't walk, Deary, you can't; we'll drive. But I wish you +wouldn't go out at all, Floyd. Do listen to me!"</p> + +<p>"But I must go. Please, get my clothes."</p> + +<p>After brief, but vain, arguing, Ann yielded to Floyd's entreaties.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-THREE" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-THREE"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE</h3> +</div> + +<p>The governor, meditating in his library, was disturbed by a ring at the +front door. The servant opened it, and he heard Miss Shellington's voice +without.</p> + +<p>In a moment Ann entered, white and flurried.</p> + +<p>"I want you to pardon me, Floyd," she begged, "but that boy of ours +insisted upon coming to see you. He would have come alone, had I refused +to accompany him. Will you be kind to him for my sake? He is so +miserable over his sister!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar clasped her extended hands and smiled upon her.</p> + +<p>"I'll be kind to him for his own sake, little friend. Mrs. Vandecar told +me of her talk with Horace over the telephone, and I was awfully sorry +to have missed him. But the little boy, where is he?"</p> + +<p>Miss Shellington threw open the door, and Vandecar's gaze fell upon a +tall boy, straight and slim, who pierced him with eyes that startled him +into a vague apprehension. He did not utter a word—he seemed to be +choked as effectually as if strong fingers were sunk into his throat.</p> + +<p>Floyd loosened his hands from Ann's and stepped forward.</p> + +<p>"I'm Flukey Cronk, Sir," he broke forth, "and Pappy Lon Cronk stole my +sister Flea, and he's goin' to give her to Lem Crabbe to be his woman, +and Lem won't marry her, either. Will ye help me to get her back? +Brother Horace said as how ye could. Pappy Lon's a thief, too, and so is +Lem. If ye'd see Lem Crabbe, ye'd help my sister."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ann saw two pairs of mottled brown eyes staring at each other, and, as +she listened to Floyd's petition, the likeness of the boy to the man +struck her forcibly. The expression that swept over Governor Vandecar's +face frightened her, and she held her breath. But quicker than hers had +been the thoughts of the man. He staggered at the name of "Lon Cronk," +and his mind coursed back to a heart-rending scene, to hear again the +deep voice of a big-shouldered thief pleading for a sick woman. Again he +saw the huge form of the squatter loom up before him, and heard once +more the frantic prayer for a week's freedom. He had not taken his eyes +from the boy's, and a weakening of his knees compelled him to grip the +back of the chair for support. With a voice thickened to huskiness, he +stammered:</p> + +<p>"What—what did you say your father's name was, boy?"</p> + +<p>"Lon Cronk, Sir—and he's the worst man ye ever see. I bet he's the +worst man in the state—only Lem Crabbe! He beat my sister, and were +makin' me a thief."</p> + +<p>Governor Vandecar dropped into his desk-chair. For a space of time his +face was concealed from Ann and Floyd by his quivering hand. When he +looked up, the joy in his eyes formed a strange contrast to Ann's +tearful face. Floyd, thinking the change in the governor boded well for +Fledra, advanced a step.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, boy," said the governor in a voice that was still hoarse. +"Now, then, answer me a few questions. Did your father ever live in +Syracuse?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, me and Flea were born there."</p> + +<p>"How old are you?"</p> + +<p>"Comin' sixteen."</p> + +<p>"And your sister? Tell me about her. Is she—how old is she?"</p> + +<p>"We be twins," replied Floyd steadily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl, watching the unfolding of a life's tragedy, was silent even to +hushing her breathing. The truth was slowly dawning upon her. How well +she knew the story of the kidnapped children! How often had her own +heart bled for the tender mother, spending endless days in vain +mourning! She saw Governor Vandecar stand, saw him sway a little, and +then turn toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Governor, Governor!" she called tremulously, "I feel as if I were going +to faint. Oh, can't you see it all? Where is Mrs. Vandecar?"</p> + +<p>"Stay, Ann, stay! Wait! Boy, have you ever had any reason to believe +that you were not the son of Lon Cronk?" Through fear of making a +mistake, he had asked this question. He knew that, should he plant false +hope in the timid mother he had shielded for years, she would be unable +to bear it.</p> + +<p>"Nope," replied Floyd wonderingly; "only that he hated me and Flea. He +were awful to us sometimes."</p> + +<p>"There can be no mistake," Ann thrust in. "He looks too much like you, +and the girl is exactly like him.... Oh, Floyd!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar extended his arms, and, with a sob that shook his soul, drew +his boy to him.</p> + +<p>"You're not Cronk's son," he said; "you're mine!... God! Ann, you'll +never know just how I feel toward you and Horace. You've made me your +life debtor; but, of course—of course, I didn't know, did I?" Then, +startled by a new thought, he realized Floyd. "But my girl!"</p> + +<p>"Horace has gone for her," Ann cried.</p> + +<p>"And I will follow him," groaned Vandecar. "Horace—and he could not +interest me in my own babies! If I'd helped him, my little girl wouldn't +have been taken away!"</p> + +<p>In the man's breakdown, Ann's calm disappeared. Un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>able to restrain her +tears, she fluttered about, first to Floyd, then to his father, kissing +the boy again and again, assuring and reassuring the governor.</p> + +<p>"Just remember," she whispered, bending over the sobbing man, "Horace +loves her better than anything in the world. Listen, Floyd! He's going +to marry her. Don't you think he'll do everything in his power to save +her?... Don't—don't sob that way!"</p> + +<p>Of a sudden Vandecar leaped to his feet. Brushing a lock of white hair +from his damp brow, he turned to Floyd.</p> + +<p>"Before I do anything else, I must take you to your mother."</p> + +<p>"But ain't ye goin' for Flea?" demanded Floyd.</p> + +<p>"Of course, I am going for my girl," cried Vandecar, "as fast as a train +can take me!" He turned suddenly and placed his firm hands on the boy's +shoulders. "Before I take you upstairs, boy, listen to me! You've a +little mother, a sick little mother who has mourned you and your sister +for years. I'm going to leave her with you while I'm gone for your +sister. Your mother is ill, and—and needs you!"</p> + +<p>Still more interested in his absent sister than in his newly found +parent, Floyd put in:</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything ye say, if ye'll go for Flea."</p> + +<p>Ann touched the father's arm gently.</p> + +<p>"Come upstairs now."</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Mrs. Vandecar was alone when her husband entered. She was sitting near +the window, her eyes pensive and sad. The governor advanced a step, +thrusting back the desire to blurt out the truth. The woman glanced into +his eyes, and the change there brought her to her feet. Her face paled, +and she put out her slender, trembling hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's something the matter, Floyd.... What's—what's happened?... I +heard the bell ring."</p> + +<p>In an instant he crushed her to him, and in an agitated voice whispered +gently:</p> + +<p>"Darling, can you stand very good news—very, very good news, indeed?... +No, no; if you tremble like that, I sha'n't tell you. It's only when you +promise me—"</p> + +<p>"I promise, I promise, Floyd! Is it anything about our—our children?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I have found them!"</p> + +<p>How many times for lesser things had she fainted! How many hours had she +lain too weak to speak! He expected her now to evince her frail spirit. +He felt her shiver, felt her muscles tighten, until she seemed to grow +taller as he held her. Then she drooped a little, as if afraid. Dazedly +she brushed back her tumbled hair, her eyes flashing past him in the +direction of the door.</p> + +<p>"Bring—bring them—to—me!" she breathed.</p> + +<p>Just how to explain her daughter's danger pressed heavily upon him. He +dared not picture Lon Cronk or the man Floyd had described. To gain a +moment, he said:</p> + +<p>"I will, Dear; but only one of them is here. The other one—"</p> + +<p>"Which one is here?"</p> + +<p>"The boy, Sweetheart, our own Floyd."</p> + +<p>Although she was shaking like a leaf, Vandecar saw that she was not +fainting, and when she struggled to be free he released her. She +staggered a little, and said helplessly:</p> + +<p>"Then, why—why don't you bring—him to me?"</p> + +<p>"I will, if you'll sit down and let me tell you something." He knelt +beside her and spoke tenderly:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Sweetheart, our children have been near us for months. They came to Ann +and Horace—"</p> + +<p>Fledra Vandecar gave a glad little cry.</p> + +<p>"It was he, then, the pretty boy that prayed! Oh, Floyd, something told +me! But you said he was here alone. Where is my girl?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I want to tell you, Fledra. Look at me, dear heart."</p> + +<p>The eyes, wandering first from his face, then to the door, fell upon +him. They seemed to demand the truth, and he dared not utter a lie to +her.</p> + +<p>"By some crooked work, which Everett and the squatter—"</p> + +<p>His words brought back Horace's story. A strange horror paled her cheeks +and widened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"That man, the one who called himself her father, took her back to +Ithaca. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"</p> + +<p>As she attempted to rise, Vandecar pushed her gently back into the chair +and said:</p> + +<p>"I'm going for her, Beloved, and Horace has already gone—Wait—wait!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar was at the door in an instant, and when he opened it Ann +appeared, leading Floyd by the hand. Mrs. Vandecar's eyes fastened +themselves upon the boy, and, when Ann pushed him toward her, she rose +and held out her arms.</p> + +<p>Floyd was taller than she, and he stood considering her calmly, almost +critically. He had been told by Miss Shellington that he would see his +mother, and as he looked a hundred things tore through his mind in a +single instant. This little woman, with fluttering white hands extended +toward him, was his—his very own! He felt suddenly uplifted with a +masculine desire to protect her. She looked so tiny, so frail! He was +filled with strength and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> power, and so glad was his heart that it sang +loudly and thumped until he heard a buzzing behind his ears. Suddenly he +blurted out:</p> + +<p>"I'd a known ye were mine if I'd a met ye any place!"</p> + +<p>Governor Vandecar hurriedly left them and telephoned for a special train +to take him to Ithaca. He entered his library and summoned Katherine. He +talked long to her in low tones, and when he had finished he put his arm +about the weeping girl and said softly:</p> + +<p>"And you'll come with us, Katherine, dear, and help me bring back my +girl? I shall ask Ann to go with us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, uncle, dear, you know I will go! And, oh, how glad I am that you've +found them!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, child. Now, if you'll run away and make the necessary +preparations, we'll start immediately."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-FOUR" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-FOUR"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR</h3> +</div> + +<p>During the days of the passage through the Erie Canal, Fledra had +remained on the deck of the scow when it was light. The spring days were +beautiful, too beautiful to be in accord with her sadness. Yet only when +they entered into Cayuga Lake did acute apprehension rise within her. +They were now in familiar waters, and she knew the end would soon come. +At every thought of Lem, Fledra shuddered; for never did his eyes rest +upon her, nor did he approach her, but that she felt the terror of his +presence—the sight of him sent a wave of horror through her. Much as +she dreaded the wrath of Cronk, much more did she fear Crabbe's eyes, +when, half-covered with squinting lids, they pierced her like gimlets. +Snatchet was her only comfort, and she lavished infinite affection upon +him. Night crowded the day from over Cayuga, and still Fledra and +Snatchet remained in the corner, near the top of the stairs. The girl +watched pensively the lights upon the hills lose their steadiness, as +the scow drew farther away from them, until with a final twinkle they +disappeared into the darkness behind. The churning of the tug's +propeller dinned continually in Flea's ears; but was not loud enough to +make inaudible the sound of a footstep. Lon came to the top of the +stairs; but did not speak. He shuffled to the boat's bow, and with a +mighty voice bawled to Burnes:</p> + +<p>"Slack up a little, Middy! I want to come aboard the tug."</p> + +<p>The words floated back to Fledra, and she half-rose, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> again sank to +the deck. Lon was leaving her alone with Lem! The tug stopped, and the +momentum of the barge sent it close to the little steamer. When the gap +between the boats was not too wide, Lon sprang to the stern of the tug, +and again Middy's small craft pulsated with life, and again the rope +stretched taut between the two vessels.</p> + +<p>As the gloom of the night deepened, Fledra could no more discern the +outline of the steamer ahead, only its stern light disclosing its +position. For some moments she scarcely dared breathe. Suddenly a light +burst over the crest of the hills opposite, and the edge of the moon's +disk rose higher and higher, until the glowing ball threw its soft, pale +light over Cayuga and the surrounding country. Once more the tug took +form, and the deck of the scow was revealed to the girl in all its +murkiness. Shaking with anxiety, she allowed her eyes to rove about +until they riveted themselves upon two glittering spots peering at her +over the top step from the shadow of the stairway. A low growl from +Snatchet did not disturb the fascination the evil eyes held for her. It +seemed as if goblin hands reached out to touch her; as if supernatural +objects and evil human things menaced her from all sides. The crouching +figure of the scowman became more distinct as he sneaked over the top +step and edged toward her. A sudden morbid desire came over the girl to +throw herself into the water. She rose unsteadily to her feet, with +Snatchet still clutched in her arms. She threw one appealing glance at +the tug—then, before she could cry out or move, Lem was at her side.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye so much as open yer gab," he muttered, "or I'll hit ye with +this!"</p> + +<p>The steel hook was held up dangerously near her face, and the threat of +it rendered her dumb.</p> + +<p>"Yer pappy be a playin' me dirt, and I won't let him. Ye're goin' to be +my woman, if I has to kill ye! See?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>No sign of help came to the girl from the tug, nor dared she force a cry +from her lips.</p> + +<p>"Yer pappy says as how I can't marry ye," went on Lem, in the same +whisper, "and I don't give a damn about that—- only, ye don't leave +this scow to go to no hut! Ye stay here with me!"</p> + +<p>Fledra had wedged herself more tightly into the corner, hugging the +snarling Snatchet closer. As she backed, the scowman came nearer, his +hot breath flooding her face.</p> + +<p>"Put down that there dorg!" he hissed. Snatchet did not cease growling, +and the baring of his teeth sent Lem back a step or two. "If he bites +me, Flea, I'll knock his brains clean plumb out of him!"</p> + +<p>With this threat, the scowman came to her again, stretching out his left +hand to touch her. Snatchet sent out a bark that was half-yelp and +half-growl, and before the man could withdraw his fingers the dog had +buried his teeth deep in them. With a wrathful cry, the scowman jumped +back, then lunged forward, wrenched the dog from Fledra's arms, and +pitched him over the edge of the barge into the lake. The girl heard the +dog give a frightened howl, and saw the splash of water in the moonlight +as he fell.</p> + +<p>He was all she had—a yellow bit she had taken with her from the +promised land, a morsel of the life that both she and Floyd loved. With +a shove that sent Lem backward, she freed herself and peered over the +side. Snatchet had come to the surface, and in his vain effort to reach +the scow his small paws were making large watery rings, which contorted +the reflection of the moon strangely. He seemed so little, so powerless +in the vast expanse, that Fledra, forgetful of her skirts and the +handicap they would put upon her, leaped from the scow. Lem saw the +water close over her head, and for many seconds only little bubbles and +ripples disturbed that part<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> of the lake where her body had sunk. An +instant he stood hesitant, then he rushed to the bow.</p> + +<p>"Lon, Lon!" he roared. "Flea's jumped overboard!"</p> + +<p>The churning of the tug suddenly stopped, and the canalman saw Lon's big +body pass through the moonlight into the water.</p> + +<p>The scow was soon close to the tug, and together Lem and Middy Burnes +examined the lake's surface for a sight of the man and the girl. Many +minutes passed. Then a shout from the rear sent Lem running to the stern +of the scow which was now at a standstill. He looked down, and on Lon's +arm he saw Fledra, pressing Snatchet against her breast. With his other +hand the squatter was clinging to the rudder.</p> + +<p>"Here she is!" Cronk called. "Grab her up, Lem!"</p> + +<p>The scowman relieved Lon of his burden and carried the half-drowned girl +below, whither the squatter, dripping with water, quickly followed. +Snatchet was directly in his path, and he kicked the dog under the +table. At the yelp, Fledra lifted her head, and Lon bent over her.</p> + +<p>"What'd ye jump in the lake for, Flea?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Still somewhat dazed, Fledra failed to answer.</p> + +<p>"Were ye meanin' to drown yer self?"</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head, and glanced fearfully at Lem. "Were ye a +worryin' her, Lem Crabbe?" demanded the squatter hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"I were a tryin' to kiss her," growled Lem. "A man can kiss his own +woman, can't he? And that dog bit me. Look at them fingers!" Through the +dim candlelight Lem's sullenness answered the dark look that Lon threw +on him.</p> + +<p>"I don't give a damn for yer fingers," Lon snarled, "and she ain't yer +woman yet, and she wouldn't be nuther, if ye weren't the cussedest man +livin'. Now listen while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> I tell ye this: If ye don't let that gal be, +ye'll never get her, and I'll smack yer head off ye, if I has to say +that again! Do ye want me to say that ye can't never have her?"</p> + +<p>"Nope," cowered Lem.</p> + +<p>"Then mind yer own business and get out of this here cabin! I'll see to +Flea."</p> + +<p>Fledra had faith that Lon Cronk would do as he promised. How often had +there come to her mind the times when she was but a little girl the +squatter had said when he would whip her, and she had waited in +shivering terror through the long day until the big thief returned +home—he never forgot his anger of the morning. Fledra winced as her +imagination brought back the deliberate blows that had fallen upon her +bare skin, and tears rushed to her lids at the memory of Floyd's cries, +when he, too, had suffered under the strength of the powerful squatter. +She was glad she could now at least rest free from Lem until the hut was +reached, and then, if only something should happen to soften Cronk's +heart, how hard she would work for him!</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>The next morning the barge approached the squatter settlement, and +Fledra was once more on deck. She wondered what Floyd had said when he +received her letter, and if he believed that she had gone of her own +free will. What had Ann said—and Horace? The thought of her lover +caused bitter tears to rain between her fingers. But she stifled her +sobs, and a tiny, happy flutter brightened her heart when she thought of +how she had saved them all. Below she heard a conversation between Lem +and Lon, and listened.</p> + +<p>She first heard the voice of the squatter: "It's almost over, Lem, and +then we'll go back to stealin' when ye get Flea. She can be a lot of use +to us."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But what ye goin' to say to that feller if he comes up tomorry?"</p> + +<p>"He can go to hell!" growled Cronk.</p> + +<p>"And ye won't give the gal to him?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>In her fancy Fledra could see Lon draw the pipe from his lips to mutter +the words to Lem.</p> + +<p>"If ye take his money, Lon," gurgled Lem, "ye might have to fight with +him if he don't get Flea."</p> + +<p>The listening girl crept to the staircase and strained her ears.</p> + +<p>"I kin fight," replied Lon laconically.</p> + +<p>When, next day, the tug came to a standstill in front of the rocks near +the squatter's hut, Fledra went forward and touched Lon's arm. Her eyes +rested a moment upon him, before she could gather voice to say:</p> + +<p>"Will you let me stay with you, Pappy Lon, for a few days?"</p> + +<p>"I'll let ye stay till I tell ye to go," growled Lon, "and I don't want +no sniveling, nuther."</p> + +<p>"When are you going to tell me to go?"</p> + +<p>"When I like. Middy's gittin' the skiff ready to take ye out. Scoot +there, and light a fire in the hut! Here be the key to the padlock."</p> + +<p>Fledra's heart rose a little with hope. He had not said that she had to +go with Lem that day. After she had been rowed to the shore, she went +slowly to the shanty, with a prayer upon her lips. She had no thought +that Horace would try to save her, or that he would be able to keep her +from Lem and Lon. She prepared the breakfasts for Cronk and Crabbe and +for Middy with his two helpers. During the meal four pairs of eyes +looked at the slim, lithe form as it darted to and fro, doing the many +tasks in the littered hut. Lon Cronk was the only one not to lift his +head as she passed and repassed. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> sat and thought moodily by the +fire. At last he did lift his head, and Fledra's solemn gray eyes, fixed +gravely upon him, made the squatter ill at ease.</p> + +<p>"What ye lookin' at?" he growled. "Keep your eyes to hum, and quit a +staring at me!" Fledra shrank back. "And I hate ye in them glad rags!" +Lon thundered out. "Jerk 'em off, and put on some of them togs of Granny +Cronk's! Yer a squatter, and ye'd better dress and talk like one! Do ye +hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Pappy Lon," murmured Fledra, dropping her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I ain't said yet when ye was to go to Lem's hut; but, when I do, don't +ye kick up no row, and ye'd best do as Lem tells ye, or he'll take the +sass out of yer hide!"</p> + +<p>"I wish I could stay with you," ventured Fledra sorrowfully; but to this +Lon did not reply. After breakfast she was left alone in the hut, and +she could hear the loud talking of the tugmen and see Lem working on the +scow.</p> + +<p>Soon Middy Burnes' tug steamed away toward Ithaca, and Fledra knew that +she was alone with no creature between her and Lem but Lon Cronk.</p> + +<p>When Lon and Lem returned, the hut was tidy. Fledra had hoped that if +she made it so Lon might want her to stay. She could be of much use +about the shanty. Neither of the men spoke for awhile, and Fledra held +her peace, as she sat by the low hut-window and gazed thoughtfully out +upon the lake. In the distance she could see the east shore but dimly. +Several fishing boats ran up the lake toward town. A flock of spring +birds swept breezily over the water and sought the shade of the forest. +Suddenly Lem rose up, stretched his legs, yawned, and said:</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' out, Lon, and I'll be back in a little while.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> Ye'd best be a +thinkin' of what I said," he cautioned, "and keep yer eyes skinned for +travelers."</p> + +<p>"All right. Don't be gone long, Lem," responded Lon. Fledra was not too +abstracted to notice the uneasy tone in the squatter's voice.</p> + +<p>"Nope; I'm only goin' up the hill."</p> + +<p>Lem had decided to reconnoiter for Scraggy. He was filled with a fear +that she might be dead; for he had left her in the hut unconscious. He +climbed the hill, and, rounding her shanty, drew nearer, and peeped into +the window. A piece of bread lying on the table, and a few embers +burning on the grate bolstered up his hope that he had not committed +murder. He drew a sigh of relief.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Presently, after the departure of Lem, Lon stirred his feet, dragged +himself up in the chair, and turned upon the girl. Her heart beat wildly +with hope. If he would allow her to stay in the hut with him, she would +ask nothing better. His consent would come as a direct answer to prayer. +How hard she would work if Floyd and Horace were safe! Cronk coughed +behind his hand.</p> + +<p>"Flea, turn yer head 'bout here; I want to talk to ye," he said.</p> + +<p>The girl got up and came to his side. She was a pathetic little figure, +drooping in great fear, and hoping against hope that he would spare her. +She had dressed as he had ordered, and at her feet dragged a worn skirt +of Granny Cronk's. With trembling fingers she hitched the calico blouse +up about her shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Flea," said Lon again, "ye came home when I said ye was to, and ye +promised that ye'd do what I said, didn't ye?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And ye remember well that I promised ye to Lem<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> afore ye went away. I +still be goin' to keep that promise to Lem."</p> + +<p>The bright blood that had swept her face paced back, leaving her ashen +pale. She did not speak, but swayed a little, and supported herself on +the top of his chair. Feeling her nearness, he shifted back, and the +small hand fell limply.</p> + +<p>"Before ye go to Lem," pursued Lon, "I want to tell ye somethin'." Still +Fledra did not speak. "Ye know that it'll save Flukey, if ye mind me, +and that it don't make no difference if ye don't like Lem."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't it have made any difference if my mother hadn't loved you, +Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>The question shot out in appeal, and Lon's swarthy face shadowed darkly.</p> + +<p>"I never loved yer mother," he drawled, sucking hard upon his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Then you loved another woman," went on Flea bitterly, "because I heard +you tell Lem about her. Would you have liked a man to give her to—Lem?"</p> + +<p>As quick as lightning in the smoke came the ghost-gray phantom, +approaching from a dark corner of the shanty. Lon's eyes were strained +hard, and Fledra saw them widen and follow something in the air. She +drew back afraid. The man was staring wildly, and only he knew why he +groaned, as the wraith in the pipe-smoke broke around him and drifted +away. Fledra brought him back by repeating:</p> + +<p>"Would ye have liked to have had Lem take her, Pappy Lon?"</p> + +<p>"I'd a killed him," muttered Lon, as if to himself. "But ye, Flea," here +he rose and brought down his fist with a bang, "ye go where I send ye! +The woman's dead. If she wasn't, ye wouldn't have to go to Lem."</p> + +<p>To soften him, Fledra knelt down at his feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Pappy Lon," she pleaded, "you haven't got her, anyhow, and you haven't +got anybody but me. If you let me stay—"</p> + +<p>How he hated her! How he would have liked to bruise the sweet, upturned +face, marking the white cheeks with the impressions of his fists! But he +dared not. She would run away again—and to Lem he had given the +opportunity to drag her to fathomless depths.</p> + +<p>Fledra misread his thoughts, and said quickly:</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't care if you beat me every day, Pappy Lon—only let me stay. +I'll work for my board. And won't you tell me about the other woman—I +don't mean my mother."</p> + +<p>Then a diabolical thought flashed into the man's mind. He, too, could +make her suffer, even before she went to Lem. A smile twisted his lips, +and he said slowly:</p> + +<p>"Yer mother ain't dead, Flea."</p> + +<p>"Not dead!"</p> + +<p>"Nope, she ain't dead."</p> + +<p>"Then where is she?"</p> + +<p>"None of yer business!"</p> + +<p>Fledra clenched her hands and paled in terror. A mother somewhere living +in the world, a woman who, if she knew, would not let her be sacrificed, +who would save her from Lem, and from her father, too!</p> + +<p>"Lon, Lon!" she cried, springing forward in desperation. "Do you know +where she is? I want to know, too."</p> + +<p>He flung her away, a grunt of satisfaction coming from his throat.</p> + +<p>"And I ain't yer daddy, nuther."</p> + +<p>"Then you're not Flukey's father, either?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Nope; yer pappy and mammy both be livin' and waitin' fer ye. They've +been lookin' fer ye fer years—and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> yet they'll never git ye. Do ye +hear, Flea? I hate 'em both so that I could kill ye—I could tear yer +throat open with these!" The squatter put his strong, crooked fingers in +the girl's face.</p> + +<p>A sudden resolution pumped the blood to the girl's cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to stay here!" was all she said.</p> + +<p>Lon lifted his fist and stood up.</p> + +<p>"Where ye goin'?"</p> + +<p>"Back to Tarrytown."</p> + +<p>She was standing close to him, her blazing eyes daring him to strike +her.</p> + +<p>"What about Flukey?"</p> + +<p>"You couldn't have him, either, if—if he isn't yours."</p> + +<p>Lon walked to the door and opened it.</p> + +<p>"Scoot if ye want to—I don't care. But ye'll remember that I'll kill +that sick kid, Fluke, and Lem'll put an end to the Tarrytown duffer what +loves ye. I hate him, too!"</p> + +<p>Fledra dropped to the floor as if he had struck her.</p> + +<p>For some moments her senses were gone, and she opened her eyes only when +Lon, vaguely alarmed, threw water in her face.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-FIVE" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-FIVE"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE</h3> +</div> + +<p>Cronk entered the scow sullenly and sat down. Lem was sitting at the +table, bending over a tin basin in which he was washing his bitten +fingers. The steel hook and its leather strappings lay on the table.</p> + +<p>"I telled Flea," said the squatter after a silence.</p> + +<p>"Did ye tell her she was comin' to my boat tonight?" asked Lem eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Nope; but I telled her that she weren't my gal."</p> + +<p>"Ye cussed fool!" cried Crabbe, jumping to his feet. "Ye won't keep her +now, I bet that!"</p> + +<p>Cronk smiled covertly.</p> + +<p>"Aw, don't ye believe it! She be as safe stuck in that hut as if I'd +nailed her leg to the floor. Ye don't know Flea, ye don't, Lem. She +didn't come back with us 'cause she were my brat, but 'cause we was +goin' to kill Flukey and Shellington. God! how she w'iggled when I +opened the door and telled her to scoot back to Tarrytown if she wanted +to! But I didn't forgit to tell her what we'd do to them two others down +there, if she'd go. She floundered down and up like a live sucker in a +hot skillet. What a plagued fool she is!"</p> + +<p>Lon sat back in his chair and laughed loudly.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll play with her till ye make her desprite," snarled Lem, "and when +she be gone ye can holler the lungs out of ye, and she won't come back. +If ye'd left her to me, I'd a drubbed her till she wouldn't think of +Tarrytown. I says as how she comes to this scow tonight. Ye can't dicker +with me like ye can with that kid, Lon!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cronk narrowed his eyelids to slits and contemplated the scowman.</p> + +<p>"I want to have a little fun with her afore ye git her," he said. "I +love to see her damn face go white and red, and her teeth shut tight +like a rat-trap. She won't do none of them things when you git done with +her, Lem."</p> + +<p>Crabbe rubbed the length of his short arm with a coarse towel.</p> + +<p>"Yep, I can make her forgit that she's got blood what'll come in her +face," chuckled he. "'Tain't no fun ownin' women, if ye can't make 'em +holler once in awhile. But ye didn't say as how she were a comin' here +tonight."</p> + +<p>"Nope, not tonight," answered Lon; "'cause when I showed her that it +didn't make no difference 'bout her stayin' whether she were mine or +not, she just tumbled down like a hit ox. My! but it were a fine sight!"</p> + +<p>Lem lifted the steel hook in deep reflection and caught the clasps +together.</p> + +<p>"I'm a wonderin', Lon," he said presently, "if I'm to ever git her."</p> + +<p>"Yep, tomorry," assured Lon.</p> + +<p>"Honest Injun?" demanded Lem.</p> + +<p>"Honest Injun," replied Lon. "If ye takes her tonight, she'll only cut +up like the devil. That's the worst of them damn women, they be too +techy when they come of stock like her."</p> + +<p>"I like 'em when they're techy—it ain't so easy to make 'em do what a +man wants 'em to as 'tis t'other kind—say like Scraggy. I love a gal +what'll spit in yer face. God! what a lickin' Flea'll git, if she tries +any of them fine notions of her'n on me! For every kiss Shellington +gived her, I'll draw blood outen her hide!" Lem paused in his work, and +then added in a stammering undertone, "But I love the huzzy!"</p> + +<p>The other bent far forward to catch the scowman's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> words, delighting in +the mental picture of Fledra's lithe body writhing under the lash. The +proud spirit of the girl would break under the physical pain!</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Fledra was still lying on the bed when Lon returned to the hut.</p> + +<p>"Git up and git supper!" Cronk growled in her ear.</p> + +<p>Mechanically she rose, sliced a few cold potatoes into the skillet, and +arranged the table for one person.</p> + +<p>"Put down two plates!" roared the squatter.</p> + +<p>"I can't eat, Lon," Flea said in a whisper.</p> + +<p>He noticed that she had dropped the paternal prefix.</p> + +<p>"Put down another plate, I say!" he shouted. "Ye be goin' to Lem's +tomorry, and ye'll go tonight if ye put on any airs with me! See?"</p> + +<p>Fledra placed a plate for herself, and sat down opposite Lon. Choking, +she crushed the food into her mouth and swallowed it with effort. For +even one night's respite she would suffer anything!</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>After the dishes were cleared away Fledra knelt by the open window, and +peered out upon the water. She turned tear-dimmed eyes toward the +college hill, and allowed her mind to travel slowly over the road she +and Floyd had taken in September. Rapidly her thoughts came to the +Shellington home, and she imagined she saw her brother and Horace +listening to Ann as she read under the light of the red chandelier. How +happy they all looked, how peaceful they were—and by her gift! She +breathed a sigh as the shadows crept long over the darkening lake.</p> + +<p>She glanced at the clock, and counted from its dial the hours until +morning. She wished that the sun would never rise; that some unexpected +thing would snatch her from the hut before the night-shades disappeared +into the dawn. Cronk moved, and the girl turned with a startled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> face. +How timid she had grown of late! She remembered distinctly that at one +time she had loved the chirp of the cricket, the mournful croak of the +marsh frogs; but tonight they maddened her, filled her with an ominous +fear such as she had never before felt. When Lon saved her from +drowning, and had scathed Lem for his actions, she had hoped—oh, how +she had hoped!—that he would let her fill Granny Cronk's place. She +glanced at the squatter again.</p> + +<p>Lon was staring out upon the lake with eyes somber and restless, eyes +darkening under thoughts that threshed through his brains like a +whirlwind. He was face to face with a long-looked-for revenge. Through +the pain of Flea he could still see that wraith woman who had haunted +him all the past-shadowed years. He believed with all his soul that then +Midge would sink into his arms, silent in her spirit of thankfulness, +and would always stay with him until he, too, should be called to join +her; for Lon had never once doubted that in some future time he would be +with his woman. If anyone had asked him during the absence of Flea and +Flukey which one of them he would rather have had back in the hut, he +would undoubtedly have chosen the girl; for well he knew that she was +capable of suffering more than a boy. Still, he moved uneasily when he +thought of the soft bed and the kindly hands that were ministering to +the son of his enemy.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the squatter dragged his pipe from his lips and said:</p> + +<p>"Look about here, Flea!"</p> + +<p>The girl turned her head.</p> + +<p>"What, Pappy Lon?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>"Keep yer mouth shet!" commanded Lon. "I'll do the talkin' fer this +shanty."</p> + +<p>Then, seeing her cowering spirit racked by fear, he grinned broadly. +Fledra sank back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've always said as how I were a goin' to make money out of ye, and +I've found a chance where, if Lem ain't a fool, he'll jine in, too. Will +I tell ye?" Lon's question brought the dark head closer to him. "Ye +needn't speak if ye don't want to," sneered he; "but I'll tell ye jest +the same! Do ye know who's goin' to own ye afore long?" Fledra's +widening eyes questioned him, while her lips trembled. "I can see that +ye wants to find out. Does ye know a young fellow by the name of +Brimbecomb?" Observing that she did not make an effort to speak, Lon +proceeded with a perceptible drawl. "Well, if the cat's got yer tongue, +I'll wag mine a bit in yer stead. Brimbecomb's offered to buy ye, and, +if Lem says that it'll be all right, then I says yep, too."</p> + +<p>Fledra found her voice uttering unintelligible words. She was slowly +advancing on her knees toward the squatter, her face working into +strong, mature lines.</p> + +<p>"Jest keep back there," ordered Lon, "and don't put on no guff with me! +Ye can do as ye please 'bout goin' away. I won't put out my hand to keep +ye; only, remember, if ye go, what comes to the folks in Tarrytown! Now, +then, did ye hear what I said about Brimbecomb?" Fledra nodded, her +eyelids quivering under his stare. "Yer pretty enough to take the fancy +of any man, Flea, and ye've took two, and it's up to 'em both to fight +over ye. The man what pays most gits ye, that's all."</p> + +<p>The girl lifted one hand dazedly.</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go with Lem," she muttered brokenly.</p> + +<p>"It don't make no matter to me what you'd ruther have. Ye go where yer +sent, and that's all."</p> + +<p>Only Fledra's sobs broke the silence of the next five minutes. She dared +not ask Lon Cronk any questions.</p> + +<p>Presently, without warning, the man turned upon her.</p> + +<p>"He's a comin' here tonight, mebbe."</p> + +<p>"Ye mean—oh, Pappy Lon! Let me go to Lem!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> I'll go, and I won't say no +word!... I'll go now!" She rose, her knees trembling.</p> + +<p>"Sit down!" Lon commanded.</p> + +<p>Used to obeying even his look, Fledra dropped back to the floor.</p> + +<p>"It ain't given to ye to go to Lem jest 'cause ye want to," he said. "As +I says, that young feller is comin' here tonight to talk with me and +Lem. I already told him, that he could take ye; but Lem hain't yet give +his word."</p> + +<p>Fledra glanced out of the window at the scow. Lem was there, arranging +the boat for her reception in his crude, homely way. She was sure the +scowman would not give her up. The thought brought Ann more vividly into +her mind. If Everett came for her, and Lem held to his desire, Miss +Shellington's happiness would be assured. The handsome young lawyer +would return to Tarrytown, back to the woman who loved him.</p> + +<p>Fledra rose with determination in her face. Suddenly Lem had loomed +before her as a friend. She moved uneasily about the shanty, Lon making +no move to stay her. For awhile she worked aimlessly, with furtive +glances at Cronk.</p> + +<p>"Set down, Flea," ordered Lon presently. "Ye give me the twitches. If ye +can't set still, crawl to bed till," he glanced her over, as she paused +to catch his words,—"till one of yer young men'll come to git ye."</p> + +<p>It was the chance Fledra had been longing for. She backed from him +through the opening of Granny Cronk's room and closed the door. For one +minute she stood panting. Then she walked to the window, threw back the +small sash, and slipped through. Once in the open air, she shot toward +the scow, and in another moment had scurried up the gangplank and into +the living-room.</p> + +<p>When he saw her, Lem's lips fell away from his pipe, and he rose slowly +and awkwardly; but no shade of sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span>render softened the hard lines +settled about the mouth of the panting girl.</p> + +<p>"Lem," she gasped, "has Pappy Lon said anything to ye about Mr. +Brimbecomb?"</p> + +<p>"Yep."</p> + +<p>"Are ye goin' to let me go with him?"</p> + +<p>"Nope."</p> + +<p>"Will ye swear, Lem, that when he comes to the hut ye'll say that he +can't have me?"</p> + +<p>Lem's jaw dropped, and he uttered a throat sound, guttural and rough.</p> + +<p>"Do ye mean, Flea, that ye'd rather come to the scow than go with the +young, good-lookin' cuss?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's what I mean; and Pappy Lon says he's comin'."</p> + +<p>Lem made a spring toward her.</p> + +<p>"Don't touch me now!" she cried, shuddering. "Don't—yet! I'm comin' +back by and by."</p> + +<p>Before he could place his hands upon her, Fledra had gone down the +plank. From the small boat-window Lem could discern the little figure +flitting among the hut bushes; in another moment she had crawled through +the open window into Lon's hut.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-SIX" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-SIX"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX</h3> +</div> + +<p>When Everett arrived in Ithaca he made arrangements with the conductor +of the local train running to Geneva to have it slow down at Sherwoods +Lane.</p> + +<p>A sudden jerk of the engine as it halted at the path that led to Lon's +hut brought Brimbecomb to his feet, and he hurried from the car with +muttered thanks and a substantial consideration to the conductor. While +the train rumbled away in the distance, he stood in the shadow of a +large pine tree by the track and looked about to get his bearings. +Suddenly he heard not far from him the faint, weird cry of an owl. +Instantly he was on the alert; for there was something familiar in the +melancholy sound. It took him back to a night in Tarrytown, when he had +cast a woman into the cemetery, and he remembered that she had said she +lived in Ithaca. Superstition sent him deeper into the shadow for a +moment; but he recovered himself and, shaking his shoulders, went his +way toward the lake with a muttered oath.</p> + +<p>So dense was the woodland bordering the path, and so dark was the shadow +of the bushes in the twilight, that he had almost to feel his way down +the dark lane. He had not proceeded more than fifty yards when he saw a +light gleaming through the underbrush from the opposite side of the +gulch that ran parallel with the narrow road. He came to a path that +branched in the direction of the light, and picked his way along it. +Soon he crossed a primitive bridge and, climbing a little incline, +paused before a dilapidated shanty. He knocked peremptorily on the door; +but only a droning voice humming a monoto<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span>nous tune made answer. Again +he knocked, this time harder. The singing ceased, and after a shuffling +of feet the door opened.</p> + +<p>Standing before him, her hair bedraggled as it had been the first time +he saw her, was the woman who had claimed to be his mother, the woman he +had thrown into Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Brimbecomb, in his astonishment, +almost fell back into the gulch. But he quickly gathered his scattered +wits and, forcing a face of effrontery, doffed his hat.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me," his agitation did not allow him to speak +calmly,—"can you tell me, please, where Lon Cronk lives?"</p> + +<p>Although his question was low and broken, Scraggy caught each word.</p> + +<p>"Down to the edge of the lake, Mister," she replied. "It's a goin' to be +a dark night to be out in, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>In his relief, Brimbecomb drew a long breath. She had not recognized +him! The dim light of the candle showed him that the same dazed +expression still remained in her faded eyes. The smirk on her face, the +crouch of her emaciated figure, about which the rags swirled in the +wind, the dismal hut, and the loneliness of her surroundings, made such +a picture of woe that Everett shuddered and hastened to get the +information, that he might hurry away from the awful place.</p> + +<p>"Is there a scow down there that belongs to—"</p> + +<p>"That there scow belongs to Lem Crabbe," broke in Scraggy. "Yep, it +comed in this mornin'. Lem be a good man, a fine man, the bestest man ye +ever see."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb took some money from his pocket and, placing it in her +fingers, hurried away.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Fledra heard Everett when he came to Lon's shanty door and knocked. She +heard the squatter call him by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> name. She knew now that the only hope +for Ann's love for Brimbecomb was that Lem would keep his word and +insist upon Lon's holding faith with him.</p> + +<p>Cronk ordered her roughly to come to him. When she appeared, the two men +looked at her keenly. As she evinced no surprise at his presence, the +lawyer knew that she had been told of his coming. He made an attempt to +take her hand; but, as once before, Fledra flung her arms behind her.</p> + +<p>"I 'low as she don't like ye, young feller," said Lon, with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Does it matter to you, Cronk?" retorted Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>"Not a damned bit!"</p> + +<p>"Then go and make your arrangements with your one-armed friend and leave +your daughter here with me."</p> + +<p>"Ye be in too big a hurry, my fine buck! Lem ain't as willin' as I be; +but I'll jest go down to the scow and speak with him."</p> + +<p>"I want to go with you, Pappy Lon," cried Fledra.</p> + +<p>"Ye stay right here, gal," commanded Cronk. Full in her face he slammed +the door and left her alone with Brimbecomb.</p> + +<p>Everett stood looking at her for fully a minute, and as steadily she +eyed him back.</p> + +<p>"I have come for you," he said quietly. "I could not leave you with +these persons."</p> + +<p>Fledra curled her lip scornfully.</p> + +<p>"I lived with them a long time before I saw any of you folks," she said +bitterly.</p> + +<p>The girl did not reason now. She knew that she must send him back, that +this was her only way to repay the woman who had saved her brother. So +she went up to Brimbecomb appealingly, her eager eyes gleaming into +his.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want you to go back to Tarrytown," she said, "and go to +Shellingtons', and see Sister Ann. She's dying to have you back. And you +belong to her, because you promised her, and she promised you. Will you +go back?"</p> + +<p>"When I wish to, I will; but not yet," muttered Everett. He had been +taken aback at her words, and at that moment could think of no way to +compromise with her. She was so near that he threw out his hands and +caught her. Forcibly he drew her face close to his, his lips whitening +under the spell of her nearness.</p> + +<p>"Never, never will I let you go away from me again!" he was saying +passionately, when Cronk opened the door and stepped in.</p> + +<p>The squatter gave no evidence that he had seen Everett's action. He left +the door open, through which the breeze flung the dust and the dead +leaves.</p> + +<p>"Lem'll see ye in the scow," he said. "I ain't got nothin' to say 'bout +this—only as how Flea goes to one or the other of ye."</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN</h3> +</div> + +<p>Not more than half an hour after Everett had reached Sherwoods Lane, +Governor Vandecar's train came to a halt at the same place, and the +party, consisting of the governor, Ann Shellington, and Katherine +Vandecar, made ready to step out into the night.</p> + +<p>"Please draw up to the switch," the governor instructed the conductor, +"and I'll hail you as soon as we return. Keep an ear out for my call."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Sir," replied the conductor; "but you'd better take this +lantern—it's sure dark down by that lake, Sir. And you can signal me +with the light."</p> + +<p>Ann and Katherine clasped hands, and, aided by the light which Vandecar +held high, slowly followed him. So stern did the tall man seem in the +deep gloom that neither girl spoke to him as they stumbled down the +hill. They halted with thumping hearts in sight of the dark lake. All +three noticed a small light twinkling through the Cronk window, and, +without knocking, Governor Vandecar flung wide the door of Lon's hut and +stepped in.</p> + +<p>The squatter sat on the floor, whittling a stick; Fledra crouched by the +window. As the door opened, she raised her eyes wonderingly; but when +she saw a tall stranger she dropped them again—someone had lost his way +and needed Pappy Lon. Cronk looked up and, recognizing Vandecar, +suddenly slid like a serpent around the hut wall until he was in +touching distance of the girl.</p> + +<p>"Ye'd better not come any closer, Mister," he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> darkly. "I has this, +ye see—and Flea's meat's as soft as a chicken's!" He raised his knife +menacingly; but dropped it slowly at sight of Ann and Katherine.</p> + +<p>"Sister Ann!" breathed Fledra.</p> + +<p>Ann's fingers grasped Vandecar's arm spasmodically; but, without +glancing back at her, he shook them off. His brow had gathered deep +lines at Lon's words, and now his unswerving gray eyes bent low to the +squatter. Under the steady gaze Cronk looked down and began to whittle.</p> + +<p>In after days Ann could always conjure up the picture before her. Fledra +looked so infinitely young and melancholy, as her eyes fixed themselves +in wide terror upon Cronk. Out of the ragged blouse rose the proud, dark +head, and the lovely face was almost overshadowed by two tightly +clenched fists. Instead of falling into her arms, as Ann had imagined +she would, the girl only sank lower to the floor, her face ghastly in a +new horror. Miss Shellington's patience gave way as she stared at +Vandecar—his delay was imperiling Fledra's life; for, if ever a wicked +face expressed hate and murder, the squatter's did now. She turned +appealing eyes to Katherine, and took a step forward; but the latter +held her and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Wait, wait a moment, Ann! Wait until Uncle has spoken!"</p> + +<p>The whisper broke the silence, and Fledra turned her eyes from Lon. She +wondered dazedly who the stranger was, and why he had come with Ann. She +thought of Horace, and a pain shot through her heart. She was aware that +his sister had come for her; but no thought entered her mind to give up +the yoke that would soon be too heavy to bear. Then Governor Vandecar +began to speak, and Fledra looked at him.</p> + +<p>"I have come to take back my own, Lon Cronk," said he, "that of which +you robbed me many years ago."</p> + +<p>"I ain't nothin' that belongs to ye, and ye'd better go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> back where ye +comed from, Mister—and don't—come no nearer!"</p> + +<p>As the squatter spoke, his lips spread wide over his teeth, and he began +picking up and laying down the bits of white wood. He did it +deliberately, and no one present imagined how the sight of Vandecar tore +at his heartstrings. Cronk could tolerate no robbing him of his revenge, +no taking away his chance of soothing the haunting spirit of his dead +woman.</p> + +<p>Again Ann touched the governor's arm.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Dear!" he said, pushing her back a little. "Lon Cronk—I want to +tell you—a story."</p> + +<p>Cronk made no response; only stooped over and gathered a few slender +whittlings, and stacked them up among the others. There was an intense, +biting silence, until the governor spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Nineteen years ago, when I lived in Syracuse, there came to me an +opportunity to convict a man of theft. Then I was young and happy; I +knew nothing of deep misery, or of—deep love." The hesitation on his +last words brought a shake from the squatter's shoulders. "This man, as +I have said, was a thief, admitted his crime to me; but, at the time of +his conviction, he pleaded with me that he might go home for a little +while to see his wife, who was ill. But of course I had no authority to +do that."</p> + +<p>A dark shade flashed over Cronk's face, followed by one of awful +suffering.</p> + +<p>"Yep, ye had," he repeated parrot-like; "ye might have let him go."</p> + +<p>"But I couldn't," proceeded the governor, "and the man was taken away to +prison without one glance at the woman who was praying to see him. For +she loved him more—than he did her."</p> + +<p>"That's a lie!" burst from Cronk's dry puckered lips.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I repeat, she loved him well," insisted Vandecar; "for every breath she +took was one of love for him."</p> + +<p>In the hush that followed his broken sentence, Lon moved one big foot +outward, then drew it back.</p> + +<p>"Afterward—I mean a few hours after the man was taken away—I began to +think of him and his agony—over the woman, and I went out to find her. +She was in a little hut down by the canal,—an ill-furnished, one-room +shanty,—but the woman was so sweet, so little, yet so ill, that I +thought only of her."</p> + +<p>A dripping sweat broke from every pore in Lon's body, and drops of water +rolled down his dark face. He groped about for another stick of wood, as +if blind.</p> + +<p>"She was too young, too small, Lon Cronk, for the cross she had to +bear."</p> + +<p>Lon threw up his head.</p> + +<p>"Jesus! what a blisterin' memory!" he said.</p> + +<p>His throat almost smothered the words. Ann began to sob; but Katherine +stood like a stone image, staring at the squatter.</p> + +<p>The governor's low voice went on again:</p> + +<p>"She was sicker than any woman I'd ever seen before, and when I was +there her little baby was born. I held her hands until she died. I +remember every message she sent you, Cronk. She told me to tell you how +much she loved you, and how the thought of your goodness to her and your +love would go down with her to the grave. If I could have saved her for +you, I should have done so; but she had to go. Then I wrote and asked +you if I should care for her body."</p> + +<p>An evil look overspread the squatter's face. The misty tears cleared, +and he began to scrape again at the wood. He flashed a murderous look +upward.</p> + +<p>"Ye could have left her dead in the hut, as long as yer killed her!" +said he.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>Not heeding the interruption, Vandecar went on:</p> + +<p>"But you sent me no word, and, because I was sorry, and because—"</p> + +<p>The knife slipped from Lon's stiffened fingers, and a long groan fell +from his lips.</p> + +<p>"I didn't get no word from ye!" he burst out. "I didn't know nothin' +till they told me she were dead." The man's head dropped down on his +chest.</p> + +<p>Relentlessly Vandecar spoke again:</p> + +<p>"Because I could not give you to her when she wanted you, and because +she had suffered so, I took her body and placed it in our family plot. I +went to the prison to tell you this, so that you could go to her grave +whenever you wished; but you had escaped the night before I arrived +there, and I never associated you with my great loss."</p> + +<p>The revenge Cronk had planned upon this man suddenly lost its savor +before the vividly drawn picture. He did not remember that Vandecar had +come for his girl; he had in mind only the wee, sweet squatter woman so +long dead.</p> + +<p>"Didn't the warden tell ye that I hit him, Mister," he groaned, "and +that I smashed the keeper when they telled me about her, and—and that +the strait-jacket busted my collarbone when I was tryin' to get out to +her?"</p> + +<p>Vandecar shuddered and shook his head; but before he could speak Cronk +wailed dazedly:</p> + +<p>"Ye might have come and telled me yerself, ye might a knowed how I +wanted ye to!"</p> + +<p>"I told you that I did come and you were gone," Vandecar answered +emphatically.</p> + +<p>"Ye didn't think how I loved her, how I'd a dreamed of huggin' my own +little brat!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar interrupted again:</p> + +<p>"I took the baby with me, Lon Cronk." At the word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> "baby," Lon dragged +his heavy hand backward across his eyes. "The baby," continued the +governor, "was no bigger than this,—a wee bit of a girl, such as all +big men love to father."</p> + +<p>The squatter stood rigidly up against the wall, until his head almost +reached the ceiling. His fierce eyes centered themselves upon Vandecar.</p> + +<p>"If I'd a knowed, Mister," he mumbled, "that ye'd took my little Midge's +hand in yer'n, that ye soothed her when she was a howlin' fer me, I +wouldn't have cribbed yer kids—I'll be damned if I would 'ave! But I +hated ye—Christ! how I hated ye! I could only think how ye wouldn't +help me." He shuddered, wiped his wet lips, and went on, "After that I +went plumb to hell. There weren't no living with me in prison, lessen I +were strapped in the jacket till my meat were scorched. It seemed as how +it made my hurt less for her to have my own skin blistered. Then, when I +got out of prison, I never once took my eyes offen ye, and when yer +woman gived ye Flea and Flukey—"</p> + +<p>A cry from Fledra brought all eyes upon her save Lon's.</p> + +<p>"When yer woman gived ye the two kids," he went on, "I let 'em stay long +enough for ye to love 'em; then I stole 'em away. But, if I'd a knowed +that ye tooked mine—" He moved forward restlessly and almost whispered, +"Mister, will ye tell me how the little 'un looked? And were it warm and +snuggly? Did ye let it lay ag'in' ye—and sleep?" The miserable, +questioning voice rose in demand, but lowered again. "Did ye let it grab +hold of yer fingers—oh, that were what I wanted more'n anythin' else! +And that's why I stealed yours; so ye'd know what sufferin' was. If ye'd +only telled me, Mister—if ye'd only telled me!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar groaned—groaned for them all, no more for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> himself and for his +gentle wife than for the great hulk of a man wrestling in agony. Tears +rose slowly to his lids; but he dashed them away.</p> + +<p>"Cronk," he cried, "Cronk, for God's sake, don't—don't! I've borne an +awful burden all these years, and every time I've thought of her I've +thought of you and wondered where you were."</p> + +<p>"I were with my little woman in spirit," the squatter interrupted, "when +I weren't tryin' to get even with you. Mister, will ye swear by God that +ye telled me the truth about the baby?"</p> + +<p>"I swear by God!" repeated Vandecar solemnly.</p> + +<p>"And I believe ye. I could a been good, if I'd a had the little kid +awhile. It were a bit of her, a little, livin' bit. I could a been, but +I wasn't, a good man. I loved to lash Flukey and Flea. I loved to make +the marks stand out on their legs and backs. And I tried to l'arn Flukey +to be a thief, and Flea were a goin' to Lem tomorry. It were the only +way I lived—the only way!" Cronk trailed on as if to himself. "The +woman camed and camed and haunted me, till my mind were almost gone, and +I allers seed the little kid's dead face ag'in' her, and allers she +seemed to tell me to haggle the life outen yer kids; and haggle I did, +till they runned away, and then I went after 'em, and Flea—"</p> + +<p>Vandecar stopped the speaker with a wave of the hand.</p> + +<p>"Then you brought her back here, and I discovered that she was mine, and +I came for her. Lon Cronk, you give me back my girl, and I'll," he +whitened to the very lips, and repeated,—"and I'll give you back +yours!"</p> + +<p>With a sweep of the arm Vandecar pushed Katherine forward. The very air +grew dense with anxiety. Ann clutched Katherine by the arm as if to stay +her movement, as if to keep her from the dazed squatter. His confession +of the kidnapping and his uncouth appearance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> forced Miss Shellington to +try and protect her gentle friend from his contact. But Katherine +loosened Ann's fingers in stony silence. Only a choking sound from +Fledra broke the quietude. She was staring into Lon's face, and he was +flashing from her to Katherine glances that changed and rechanged like +dark clouds passing over the heaven's blue. He saw Katherine, so like +his dead wife, bow her fair head before him. He noted her trembling +fingers pressed into pink palms, her slender body grow tense again and +again, relaxing only with spontaneous sobs. That he could touch the +fragile young creature, that he might listen to the call of his heart +and take her as his own, had not yet been fully forced upon him. The +meaning of Governor Vandecar's words seemed to leave his mind at +intervals; then his expression showed that he realized the truth of +them. He swayed forward; but crouched back once more against the wall. +Fledra rose silently to her feet, her ready intelligence grasping the +great fact that she was free, that the magnificent stranger had come for +her, that he claimed her as his. She was free from Lem, from Lon, free +to go back to Flukey. Lem's menacing shadow had lifted slowly from her +life, cast away by her own blood. For an instant there rose rampant in +her breast the desire to turn and fly, before another chance should be +given Lon to exert his authority over her. Then something snapped in her +head, and, unconscious, she sank noiselessly to the floor. No one +noticed her. She was like a small prey over which two great forces +ruthlessly fought and tore at human flesh and human hearts.</p> + +<p>Vandecar gently touched Katherine's arm; but her feet were powerless to +move.</p> + +<p>"Katherine," the governor groaned, "don't you remember that you cried +over him and your mother, and that—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, yes!" Katherine breathed. She was trying to still the beating of +her heart, trying to thrust aside a great, revolting fear; yet she knew +intuitively that the squatter was her father, and remembered how the +recounting of her mother's death had touched her. In one flashing +thought, she recalled how she had longed for a mother, and how she had +turned away when other girls were being caressed and loved. But never +had it entered her mind to imagine that her parents were like this. The +picture of the hut in which the wee woman had died rose within her—the +death agony had been so plainly described. The tall, shrinking, sobbing +man against the wall was her father! Even that afternoon, when Governor +Vandecar had told her of her birth and her mother's death, and of her +father in the lake hut, she had not imagined him like this man. Yet +something pleaded for him, some subtle, gentle spirit hovering near +seemed to drag her forward. She shuddered, slipped from Vandecar's arms, +and crouched down before the squatter. She turned a livid, twitching +face up to his, her eyes beseeching his with infinite compassion. All +that was beautiful in the gentle, soulful girl broke over Ann like a +surging sea. This girl, who had been brought up in a beautiful home, +always attended with loving kindness, was casting her lot with a man so +low and vile that another person would have turned away in disgust. Miss +Shellington's mind recalled her girlhood days, in which Katherine had +been an intimate part. She could not bear it. She took an impulsive +forward step; but Vandecar gripped her.</p> + +<p>"Stay," came sternly from his lips, "stay! But—but God pity her!"</p> + +<p>The next seconds were laden with biting agony such as neither the +governor nor Ann had ever experienced. Katherine pleaded silently with +the man above her for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> paternal recognition. Suddenly he drew away from +the kneeling girl and shrank into the corner, pressing the wall with his +great weight until the rotting boards of the shanty creaked behind him. +Only now and then was his mind equal to the task of owning her. +Gathering strength to speak, Katherine sobbed:</p> + +<p>"Father, Father, I never knew of you until today—I didn't know, I +didn't know!"</p> + +<p>In her agony she did not notice the fierce eyes melt with tenderness; +but Vandecar saw it with a tumultuous heart. He was waiting to claim the +little figure on the floor, that he might take her back to her mother. +In that way he would retrieve his own past errors and in a measure +redeem the misspent life of the thief. He saw Cronk smooth his brow with +a shaking hand, as if to +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'wip'">wipe</ins> +away from his befuddled brain the cobwebs +of indecision and time-gathered shadows. His lips, drawn awry with +intensity, opened only to drone:</p> + +<p>"Pretty little Midge, I thought as how ye were dead! And ye've come back +to yer man, a lovin' him as much as ever! God—God!" He raised streaming +eyes upward, and then finished, "God! And there be a God, no matter how +I said there wasn't! He didn't let ye die when I were pinched!" With a +mighty strength he swept the girl from the floor and turned mad eyes +upon Vandecar.</p> + +<p>"She ain't dead, Mister—I thought she were! Take back yer brat, and +keep yer boy—and God forgive me!"</p> + +<p>So tender was his last petition, that it seemed but a breath whispered +into the infinite listening ear of the God above. Katherine, like +Fledra, had lapsed into unconsciousness.</p> + +<p>"She's fainted!" cried Ann. "Oh, Katherine, poor, pretty little +Katherine!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Help her, Ann!" urged Vandecar. "Do something for her!"</p> + +<p>He did not wait to see Ann comply; but turned to Fledra, who, still +wrapped in unconsciousness, lay crouched on the floor, her dark curls +massed in confusion. Granny Cronk's blouse had fallen away, leaving the +rounded shoulders bare and gleaming in the faint yellow light.</p> + +<p>The father gathered the daughter into his arms with passionate +tenderness. At first he did not try to revive her; but sat down and held +her close, as if he would never let her go. Tears, the product of weary +ages of waiting, fell on her white, upturned face, and again he murmured +thanksgivings into her unheeding ear. For many moments only the words of +Ann could be heard, as she tried to reason with Cronk to release +Katherine for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Lay her down, won't you? She's ill. Please, let me put water on her +face!"</p> + +<p>"Nope," replied Lon; "she won't git away from me ag'in. She's Midge, my +little Midge, my little woman, and she's mine!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," answered Ann, "I know she's yours; but do you want her to +die?"</p> + +<p>With his great hands still locked about Katherine, Cronk looked down on +her lovely face, crushed against his breast. She was a counterpart of +the woman who had lived in another hut with him, and his dazed mind had +lost the intervening years. Midge had come out of the prison shadows, +and the big squatter had turned back two decades to meet her.</p> + +<p>"She's only asleep," he said simply; "she allers slep' on my breast, +Missus. She'd never let me put her off'n my arm a minute. And I didn't +want to, nuther. She were allers afeared of ghosts—allers, allers! And +I kep' her close like this. She ain't dead, Ma'm."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>His voice was free from anger and passion. By dint of persuasion, at +length Ann forced him to release Katherine and to aid her while she +bathed the girl's white face with water.</p> + +<p>Katherine was still limp and bewildered when, ten minutes later, Fledra +opened her eyes and looked up into her father's face. The past hour had +not returned to her memory, and she drew quickly away. Of late she had +become timid, always on the defensive; and when Ann spoke to her she +held out her arms.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid!" she whimpered. "I want to go to Sister Ann."</p> + +<p>But Vandecar held her fast as Miss Shellington knelt on the hut floor at +his side.</p> + +<p>"Fledra, listen to me! This is your own father, Dear. Don't draw away +from him. He came with me for you. We're going to take you back to your +mother and little Floyd."</p> + +<p>It seemed an eternity to the waiting man before Fledra received him. +There were many things she had to reason away. It was necessary first to +dispense entirely with Lon Cronk, to feel absolutely free from Lem. +Until then, how could she feel secure? The eyes bent upon hers affected +her strangely. They were spotted like Flukey's, and had the same trick +of not moving when they received another's glance. Then Ann's +exclamation seemed to awaken her lethargic soul, and she seized upon the +word "mother."</p> + +<p>"Mother, Mother!" she stumbled, "oh, I want her, Sister Ann! I want her! +Will you take me to her? She's sweet and—and mine!" She made the last +statement in a low voice directly to Vandecar.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I'm your father, Fledra," he whispered. He longed for her to +be glad in him—longed now as never before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fledra's eyes sought Cronk's. He had forgotten her; Katherine alone held +his attention. Timidly she raised her arms and drew down her father's +face to hers.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad, I'm awful glad that you're mine—and you're Floyd's, too. Oh, +I'm so glad! And you say—my mother—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dear," Vandecar murmured, deeply moved; "a beautiful mother, who +is waiting and longing for her girl. Dear God, how thankful I am to be +able to restore you to her!"</p> + +<p>The governor held her close, while he told her of her babyhood and the +story of the kidnapping, refraining from mentioning Cronk's name. It +took sometime to impress upon her that all need of apprehension was +past, that her future cast with her own dear ones was safe, and that Lem +and Lon were but as shadows of other days.</p> + +<p>Katherine, weeping with despair, was sitting close to Lon. She knew +without being told that the father she had just found had lost from his +memory all of the bitterness of the years gone by. He had gone back to +his Midge, and now centered upon his newly found child the identity of +this dead woman. It was better so, even Katherine admitted; for he was +meek and tender, wholly unlike the sullen, ugly man they had seen +earlier in the evening. The squatter's condition made it impossible to +allow Katherine to be with him, and they dared not leave him alone in +the hut. Later, when they were making plans for Cronk's future, Vandecar +said:</p> + +<p>"We can't leave him here, Ann dear. Can't we take him with us, +Katherine?"</p> + +<p>"It's the only thing I can see to do," replied Ann, with catching +breath.</p> + +<p>"You'll come with him and me, Katherine, and we'll take him to the car, +while he is subdued. You, Ann,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> dress that child, and wait here for +Horace. I'll come back directly. I must place Cronk with the conductor, +for fear—"</p> + +<p>"Don't be long," begged Ann. "I'm so afraid!"</p> + +<p>"No, only long enough to signal the train and get them aboard. You must +be brave, dear girl, and we must all remember what he has suffered. His +heart is as big as the world, and I can't forget that, indirectly, I +brought this upon him." He turned his glance upon the squatter, and +Katherine's eyes followed his. The lines about Lon's mouth had softened +with tenderness, his eyes were filled with adoration. Katherine flashed +him back a sad smile.</p> + +<p>"The little Midge!" murmured Lon. "I'll never steal ag'in—never! And +I'll jest fish and work fer my little woman—my pretty woman!"</p> + +<p>Vandecar rose and went to the squatter.</p> + +<p>"Lon," he said, placing a hand upon the rough jacket, "will you bring +your little—" He was about to say daughter, but changed the word to +"Midge," and continued, "Will you bring Midge to my car and come to +Tarrytown with us?"</p> + +<p>Cronk stared vacantly.</p> + +<p>"Nope," he drawled; "I'll stay here in the hut with Midge. It's dark, +and she's afraid of ghosts. I'll never steal ag'in, Mister, so I can't +get pinched."</p> + +<p>Vandecar still insisted:</p> + +<p>"But won't you let your little girl come back and get her clothes? And +you, too, can come to our home, for—for a visit." His face crimsoned as +he prevaricated.</p> + +<p>But Lon still shook his head.</p> + +<p>"A squatter woman's place be in her home with her man," he said.</p> + +<p>Vandecar turned helplessly upon Katherine.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You persuade him," he entreated in an undertone.</p> + +<p>Katherine whispered her desire in her father's ear.</p> + +<p>"We'll go only for a few days," she promised.</p> + +<p>"And ye'll come back here?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>The girl glanced toward Governor Vandecar, and caught the slight +inclination of his head.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she promised; "yes, we'll come back, if you are quite well."</p> + +<p>Cronk stooped down and pressed his lips to hers.</p> + +<p>"I'd a gone with ye, Midge, 'cause I couldn't say no to nothin' ye asked +me." But he halted, as they tried to lead him through the door.</p> + +<p>"I don't like the dark," he muttered, drawing back.</p> + +<p>Fledra eyed him in consternation. Never before had she known him to +express fear of anything, much less of the elements which seemed but a +part of his own stormy nature. Never had she seen the great head bowed +or the shoulders stooped in timidity. Katherine had Cronk's hand in +hers, and she gently drew him forward.</p> + +<p>"Come, come!" she breathed softly.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid," Lon whined again. "I want to stay here, Midge." He looked +back, and, encountering Vandecar's eyes, made appeal to him.</p> + +<p>"Cronk," the governor said, "do you believe that I am your friend?"</p> + +<p>The squatter flung about, facing the other.</p> + +<p>"Yep," he answered slowly, "I know ye be my friend. If ye'll let me walk +with my hand in yer'n, I'll go." He said it simply, as a child to a +parent. He held out his crooked fingers, and Vandecar seized them. +Katherine took up her position on the other side of her father, and the +three stepped out into the night and began slowly to ascend the hill.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT</h3> +</div> + +<p>To Horace Shellington it seemed many hours before the small, jerky train +that ran between Auburn and Ithaca drew into the latter city. In his +eagerness to reach the squatter settlement without loss of time, he +hastened from the car into the station. He knew that it would be far +into the night before he reached Lon Cronk's, and, with his whole soul, +he hoped he would be in time to save Fledra from harm. At the little +window in the station he hurriedly demanded of the agent a mode of +conveyance to take him to the spot nearest the squatter's home.</p> + +<p>"There's no way to get there tonight over this road," said the man; "but +you might see if Middy Burnes could take you down the lake. He's got a +tug, and for a little money he'll run you right there."</p> + +<p>Horace quickly left the station, and, making his way to the street, +found the house to which he had been directed. At his knock Middy Burnes +poked a bald head out of the door and asked his business. In a few words +Shellington made known his wants. The tugman threw the door wider and +scratched his head as he cogitated:</p> + +<p>"Mister, it'll take me a plumb hour to get the fire goin' good in that +tug. If ye can wait that long, till I get steam up, I'll be glad to take +ye." So, presently the two walked together toward the inlet where the +boat was tied.</p> + +<p>"Who do you want to see down the lake this time of the year?" asked +Burnes, with a sidelong look at his tall companion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lon Cronk."</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho!" laughed Middy. "I jest brought him and Lem Crabbe up from +Tarrytown, with one of Lon's kids. She's a pretty little 'un. I pity +her, 'cause she didn't do nothin' but cry all the way up, and once she +jumped into the lake."</p> + +<p>"Did what?"</p> + +<p>The sharpness of Shellington's voice told Middy that this news was of +moment.</p> + +<p>"Well, ye see, 'tain't none of my business, 'cause the gal belongs to +Lon; but, if she was mine, I wouldn't give her to no Lem Crabbe. Lem +said she jumped in the lake after a pup; but I 'low he was monkeyin' +with her. Her pappy hopped in the water after her like a frog and pulled +her out quicker'n scat."</p> + +<p>With fear in his heart, Horace waited on deck for Burnes to get up +steam, and it seemed an interminable time before the tug at last drew +lazily from the inlet bridge, and, swinging round under Middy's +experienced hand, started slowly down the black stream.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Ann closed the shanty door after seeing the governor and his two +companions disappear up the hill, and smiled at Fledra with shining +eyes. The wonderful events of the evening had taken place in such rapid +order that she had no time to express her happiness to the girl. She +opened her arms, and Fledra darted into them.</p> + +<p>"It's all because you prayed, Sister Ann," she sobbed, "and because you +taught me how to pray. Does—does Horace know about my new father and +mother?"</p> + +<p>"No, Dear; he left Tarrytown before we ourselves knew. We received a +telegram from Horace saying he had come on to Ithaca. We must wait here; +for he'll arrive sometime tonight. We couldn't go and allow him to find +this place empty."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course not," the girl sighed impatiently. "Oh, I hope he comes +soon!"</p> + +<p>Her soul burned for a sight of him. He had been the first to fly to her +rescue, even when he had thought her but a squatter girl. He had not +shrunk from the dangers of the settlement, and, in spite of the peril of +Lem and Lon, he had been willing to drag her away from harm for the love +of her. The thought was infinitely sweet.</p> + +<p>At length Ann brought her to the present.</p> + +<p>"Fledra dear, can you realize that little Mildred is your own sister, +and that Mildred's mother is yours? Oh, Darling, you ought to be the +happiest girl in the world!"</p> + +<p>"I'm happy, all right," said Fledra gravely; "only, I feel sorry for +Katherine. Somehow, we changed Daddies, didn't we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dear, and I feel for her too," lamented Ann. "I can't see how +she's going to bear it."</p> + +<p>"Maybe she's been a praying," said Fledra, "as I did when I thought I +was coming to Lem. It does help a lot."</p> + +<p>"Dear child, dear heart," murmured Ann, "your faith is greater than +mine! Katherine Vandecar is a saint, and—and so are you, Fledra."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not." The girl dropped her eyes and flushed deeply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but Fledra, you are!" Then a new thought entered Ann's mind, and +she hesitated before she continued. "Fledra, will you tell me something +about Mr. Brimbecomb? I mean—you know—the trouble you spoke of in your +letter to him?"</p> + +<p>Fledra flashed a startled glance.</p> + +<p>"Did he dare show it to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Fledra; he dropped it, and Horace found it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Is that the way you knew where I'd gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and on account of it Floyd went to the governor's house."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why did you let Floyd go out? He is so ill!" Her eyes were +reproachful.</p> + +<p>Ann, with a smile, kissed the girl.</p> + +<p>"Dear, unselfish child," said she, "don't you understand that, if he +hadn't gone, you wouldn't have your strong, big father, nor would little +Floyd be now with his mother?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe our mother'll make Floyd well," cried Fledra. "Oh, she couldn't +help but love him, could she, Sister Ann?"</p> + +<p>"And it will be impossible for her not to love you, Deary," exclaimed +Ann, wiping her eyes. "But now you must dress. Have you still the +clothes you wore away from home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have them; but they're all mussed. I fell in the lake, and got +them all wet, and they're wrinkled now. They're up in the loft. +Wait—I'll get them." She was scrambling up the ladder as she spoke, and +her last words were uttered in the darkness of the loft.</p> + +<p>Ann could hear the girl moving about overhead, and heard the dragging of +a box across the floor. Then another sound broke upon her ears, and +before she could move toward the door it opened, and a shabby, one-armed +man shuffled in, followed by Everett Brimbecomb.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>After Everett had disappeared across the little bridge, Scraggy closed +the rickety door of her hut and went fidgeting about in the littered +room. Long she brooded, sniveling in her bewilderment. Something hazy, +something out of the past, knocked incessantly upon her demented brain. +This something touched her heart; for she whimpered as does a hurt child +when the hurt is deep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> and the child's mother is not near. She still +missed Black Pussy, and when she thought of the loss of her only friend +wilder paroxysms of frenzied grief filled the shanty.</p> + +<p>After one of her raving fits of crying more vehement than those +preceding, Black Pussy again came to her mind, and suddenly she was +taken back to the wintry night she had lost him. Feebly she put the +events of that evening together, one by one, until like a burst of light +the memory of her boy came to her. Not once hitherto had she remembered +him since his blow had sent her into unconsciousness. Now she recalled +how roughly her son had handled her, and she did not forget his threat +to kill her if she ever mentioned to anyone that she was his mother. She +recognized, too, the identity of the stranger who had asked her the way +to the scow but a little while before.</p> + +<p>A sane expression came into her eyes, and she settled herself back to +think. With her pondering came a clear thought—her boy was seeking his +father! Still somewhat dazed, she tottered to one corner of the hut and +fumbled for her shawl.</p> + +<p>"He axed for Lon!" she whispered. "Nope, he axed for Lem, his own daddy. +Now, Lemmy'll take me with 'em—oh, how I love 'em both! And the boy'll +eat all he wants, and his little hand'll smooth my face when my head +aches!"</p> + +<p>Muttering fond words, she opened the door and slid out into the night. +She paused on the rustic bridge, the sound of footsteps in the lane that +led to the tracks bringing her to a standstill. Several persons were +approaching her. They came steadily nearer, passed the footpath that led +to her hut, and she crept out. Two men and a woman were near enough for +Screech Owl to touch them, if she had put out her hand. She re<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span>mained +perfectly quiet, and Lon Cronk's voice, muttering words she did not +understand, came to her through the underbrush. Then, in her joy, +Scraggy speedily forgot them, and, as she hurried down the hill sent out +cry after cry into the clear night.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>For a long time Miss Shellington stood staring at Everett, and the man +as fixedly at her. The movements were still going on in the loft.</p> + +<p>"How came you here?" cried Ann sharply, when she had at last gathered +her senses.</p> + +<p>"I might ask you the same thing," replied Everett suavely. "This is +scarcely a place for a girl like you."</p> + +<p>"I came after Fledra," she said slowly. "I didn't know—"</p> + +<p>Everett came forward and crowded back her words with:</p> + +<p>"And I came for the same person!"</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb reasoned quickly that he dared not tell Ann the truth, and +that so long as she thought his actions were for Fledra's welfare she +would stand by him.</p> + +<p>"I found out that these ruffians had taken her, and I came after her. I +thought a good school would be better than this." He swept his hand over +the hut, and did not notice the expression that flitted across Ann's +face.</p> + +<p>Lem uttered an unintelligible grunt, and growled:</p> + +<p>"He's a damned liar, Miss! He wanted to buy the gal from me and Lon."</p> + +<p>Everett laughed sneeringly.</p> + +<p>"Miss Shellington would not believe such a tale as that," said he; "she +knows me too well."</p> + +<p>"I do believe him," said Ann. "I saw the letter you lost, which Fledra +wrote you. You dropped it in our drawing-room. Horace found it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p>Everett saw his fall coming. He would not be worsted by this woman, who +had believed once that he was the soul of truth. To lose her and the +prestige of her family, and to lose also Fledra, was more than he would +endure. He bounded forward and grasped her arm fiercely.</p> + +<p>"Where is that squatter girl? I'll stand nothing from you or that +brother of yours! Where is he, and where is she?"</p> + +<p>Ann stood silently praying for strength. So plainly had Everett shown +his colors that she felt disgust grow in her heart, although her eyes +were directed straight upon him. She hoped that the girl in the loft +upstairs would not come down until Governor Vandecar returned. Again she +sent up a soul-moving petition for help.</p> + +<p>"You can't have her!" she said, trying to speak calmly. "She is going to +marry my brother, Everett."</p> + +<p>Just then Fledra, robed in her own clothes, scrambled to the top rung of +the ladder. She paused halfway down and glanced over the scene below +with unbelieving eyes.</p> + +<p>"Go back up, Fledra," commanded Ann.</p> + +<p>"I don't think she'll go back up," gritted Brimbecomb. "Come down!" He +advanced a step, with his hand upon his hip. "I've something to coax you +with," he declared in an undertone. "It is this!"</p> + +<p>Fledra saw the revolver, noted the expression on the man's face, and +stepped slowly down the ladder. The silence of the moment that followed +was broken by several loud hoots of an owl. The first one seemed in +direct proximity to the hut; the last ones came faintly from the shore +of the lake.</p> + +<p>When she saw the gun, Ann whitened to the ears, and the threat in +Everett's eyes caused Lem to gurgle in his throat, as if he would speak +but could not.</p> + +<p>"I told you," said Everett, with his lips close to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> Fledra's ear, "that +I would use any means to get you.... Stand aside there—you two!"</p> + +<p>He turned his flashing eyes upon the scowman and Ann, and, placing his +arm about Fledra, drew her forward. The girl was so dazed at the turn of +affairs that she allowed Everett to drag her, unresisting, half the +length of the room. Then her glance moved upward to Ann. Miss +Shellington's face was as pallid as death, and her horrified look at +Everett brought Fledra to her senses. The girl looked appealingly at +Lem. The scowman's squinted eyes and the contortions of his face caused +Fledra to cry out:</p> + +<p>"Lem, Lem, save me! save me!"</p> + +<p>Crabbe drew his heavy body more compactly together, and, with his eyes +glued upon the revolver, advanced along the wall toward Brimbecomb. His +frightful wheezes and choking gulps attracted the lawyer's attention to +him, and the gun was suddenly leveled at his breast.</p> + +<p>"Stand back there, Crabbe!" ordered Everett. "You have nothing to do +with this."</p> + +<p>But, as the lawyer spoke, Lem sprang forward with the fierceness of a +wild beast. Instantly followed the report of a revolver; but the bullet +went wide and sunk into the opposite wall, for, as Everett aimed at Lem, +Fledra twisted and struck his arm so heavily that his fingers loosened +and the weapon clattered across the room.</p> + +<p>The impact of the scowman's body bore the lawyer down, while Fledra was +thrown away from the struggle by a sweep of Lem's left arm. Ann was +petrified with fear; but this did not keep her from picking up the girl +from the floor. In her terror she took in each motion of the fighters. +She saw Lem lift his left hand, and heard the sickening thud as his +great brown fist struck Everett full in the face. She saw the hook flash +in the candlelight, then bury its glittering prong in the other's neck.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +Everett screamed once, then was silent; for with his unmaimed hand the +scowman had grasped his enemy's throat and was shaking the body as a dog +does a rat. In his frenzy, Lem threshed and tumbled Brimbecomb about on +the hut floor, the sight of his rival's blood sending him mad; and +always the sound of his gasps and chokes rose above the struggle. Of a +sudden the gurgles in the throat of the scowman ceased, his face became +purple black, and it seemed to Ann that his blood must burst through the +thick skin. With one last movement he again buried his hook in Everett, +then tried to throw the body from him; but, instead, he himself, fell in +a heap on the floor.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the door opened, and Scraggy Peterson staggered into the hut.</p> + +<hr class="major" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTY-NINE" id="CHAPTER_THIRTY-NINE"></a>CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE</h3> +</div> + +<p>She sent no glance at Ann, nor did she see Fledra shrinking in the +corner. No thought came to her weak brain save of the two men at grips +with death. She staggered forward with a cry.</p> + +<p>"Lemmy, Lemmy, ye wouldn't kill yer own brat?... He's our little 'un!... +Lemmy!... God!... Ye've killed him!"</p> + +<p>Scraggy put her hands on Everett, and saw Lem struggle to sit up, the +lust of killing still blazing in his eyes. He had heard the woman's +words, and as he slowly grasped the import of them he turned over and +raised his head while pulling desperately at his throat.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lemmy, love," she murmured, "ye've killed him this time! He's +dead!" She leaned farther over, and kissed the white face of her son. +"Yer hook's killed our little 'un, Lemmy—my little 'un, my little 'un!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, he isn't dead!" cried Ann. "He can't be dead!" She let go +her hold on Fledra, and, with Scraggy, bent over Everett. "Oh, he +breathes! But he isn't your son?"</p> + +<p>"Yep; he be Lemmy's boy and mine," answered Scraggy, lifting her eyes +once more to Ann. "Look! He were hurt here by the hook when he were a +baby." She drew aside Everett's tattered shirt-front and displayed a +long white mark.</p> + +<p>Ann staggered back. Everett had said to her:</p> + +<p>"My mother will know me by the mark on my breast."</p> + +<p>So this was the end of Everett's dream!</p> + +<p>"He didn't love his mammy very much," Scraggy went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> on, "nor his pappy, +nuther; but it were 'cause he didn't know nuther one of us very well, +and Lem didn't love him nuther. And now they've fit till he's dead! +Lemmy's sick, too. Look at his face! He can't swaller when he's sick +like that." She left Everett and crawled to Lem.</p> + +<p>"Can ye drink, Lemmy?" she asked sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>The grizzled head shook a negative.</p> + +<p>"Be ye dyin?"</p> + +<p>This time Crabbe's head came forward in assent.</p> + +<p>"Then ye dies with yer little boy—poor little feller! He were the +bestest boy in the hull world!" Here she placed an arm under Everett's +neck; throwing the other about Lem, she drew the two men together before +she resumed. "And Lemmy was the bestest man and pappy that anybody ever +see!"</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Screech Owl's last words were nearly drowned by the shrill whistle of a +steamer. A minute later Ann and Fledra heard running footsteps coming +from the direction of the lake. There was no knock; but a quick jerk of +the latch-string flung wide the door—and Fledra was in Horace's arms.</p> + +<p>"Thank God, my little girl is safe!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>Then he glanced over her head, his horrified attention centered upon the +group on the floor.</p> + +<p>Scraggy looked up at him, still holding Lem and Everett.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad ye comed, Mister. Can't ye help 'em any?"</p> + +<p>For many minutes they worked in silence over the father and son. Once +the brilliant eyes of Brimbecomb opened and flashed bewilderedly about +the room, until he caught sight of Ann. A smile, sweet and winning, +curved his lips. Then he lapsed into unconsciousness again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want him to speak to me, Horace," moaned Ann, "only a little +word!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wait, Dear," said Horace. "We're doing all we can.... I believe that +man over there is dead."</p> + +<p>He made a motion as if to lean over the scowman; but Scraggy pushed him +back.</p> + +<p>"No, my Lemmy ain't dead," she wailed, "course he ain't dead!" She +placed her lips close to the dying man's ear, and called, "Lemmy, Lemmy, +this be Scraggy!"</p> + +<p>The hooked arm moved a trifle, and then was still. The fingers of the +left hand groped weakly about, and Scraggy, with a sob, lifted the arm +and put it about her. Had the others in the room been mindful of the +action, they would have seen the man's muscles tighten about the woman's +thin neck. Then presently his arm loosened and he was dead.</p> + +<p>Everett's eyes were open, and he was trying to speak.</p> + +<p>"Is—Ann—here?" he whispered faintly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dear, I am here, right close beside you. Can't you feel my hands?"</p> + +<p>His head turned feebly, and his fingers sought hers.</p> + +<p>"I have been—wretchedly—wicked!"</p> + +<p>His voice was so low that Horace did not catch the words; but Scraggy +heard, and crawled from Lem to Miss Shellington's side.</p> + +<p>"Missus, will ye tell my little boy-brat that his mammy be here? Will ye +say as how I loved him—him and Lemmy, allers?"</p> + +<p>Her haggard face was close to Ann's, and the latter took in every word +of the low-spoken petition. Miss Shellington bent over the dying man.</p> + +<p>"Everett," she said brokenly, "your own mother is here, and she wants +you to speak to her."</p> + +<p>Brimbecomb partly rose, and, in scanning those in the hut, his eyes fell +upon Screech Owl. The tense agony seemed for an instant to leave his +face, and it fell into more boyish lines.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Little 'un—pretty little 'un," whispered Scraggy "yer mammy loves ye, +and Lemmy loved ye, too, if he did hit ye!"</p> + +<p>Screech Owl hung over him many minutes in a breathless silence; but when +Vandecar came in Everett, too, was dead. Then, at last, Scraggy moved +toward the door, and, with the same wild cry that had haunted the +settlement for so many years, sprang out into the night.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>From her hiding place in the gulch, Scraggy saw Vandecar and the rest +mount the hill. When they had disappeared, she slunk down the lane and +made straight for Lon's hut. With dread in her eyes, she stood for +sometime before the dark shanty, and then swayed forward to the window.</p> + +<p>When she reached it, superstition forced her back; but love proved +stronger than fear, and she looked into the room. So dark was it within +that she could see only the white mound on the floor—the mound made by +the dead father and son. They were hers—all that was left of the men +she had loved always! Scraggy tried the door; but found it locked. Then +she attempted to move the window; but it, too, had been fastened. With a +stone she hammered out the glass, making an opening through which she +dragged her body. As she stood there in silent gloom, the very air +seemed to hang heavy with death. In the dark Scraggy broke out into +sobs, and was seized with spasms of shivering; she had no strength to +move forward or backward.</p> + +<p>But again love drove her on, and some seconds passed before she found +matches to light the candle. When the dim flame lighted up the room, she +turned slowly to the middle of the floor. Tremblingly she drew down the +covering and looked upon her dead. They were hers—these men were hers +even in death! Chokingly she stifled her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> sobs, and then the decision +came to her that she would keep a night vigil until break of day. Of the +two, Screech Owl knew not which she loved better.</p> + +<p>"Ye both be dead," she moaned, looking first at Lem then at Everett; +"dead so ye'll never breathe no more! But Scraggy loves ye.... God! ye +nuther one of ye knows how she loves ye! There weren't no men in the +hull world as good as ye both was.... Lemmy didn't know ye was his, +little 'un, and ye didn't know Lemmy were yer daddy. I'll stay with ye +both till the day."</p> + +<p>Saying this, she crouched low between Crabbe and Brimbecomb, and, +encircling each neck with an arm, thrust her face down close between +them.</p> + +<p>Lon Cronk's old clock on the shelf ticked out the minutes into the +somberness of the hut. The waves of the lake, breaking ceaselessly upon +the shore, softened the harsh, uneven croaks of the marsh-frogs with +their harmony. Through the broken window drifted the night noises, and +the wind fluttered the candle-flame weakly. Suddenly Screech Owl thought +she heard a voice—a voice filled with tender sympathy and pathos. +Without disengaging her arms, she lifted herself and searched with dim +eyes even the corners of the hut. Misty forms shaded to ghost-gray +seemed to steal out and group themselves about her dead. She took her +arm from Everett and brushed back the straggling locks that blurred her +sight.</p> + +<p>The voice spoke again, pronouncing her name in low, even tones. Once +more she wound her arm about Everett, and pressed herself down between +her beloveds. Her eyes, protruding and fearful, saw the candlelight grow +dimmer.</p> + +<p>"Lemmy, Lemmy," she gasped between hard-coming breaths, "I'm comin' +after ye and our pretty boy! Wherever ye both be—I come—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<p>A film gathered over Scraggy's eyes, and her words were cut short by the +pain of the intermittent flutterings of her heart. She fell lower, and +with a last weak effort drew the heads closer together. Then Scraggy's +spirit, which had ever sought her lover and her son, took flight out +into the vast expanse of the universe, to find Everett and Lem.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Governor Vandecar bent over his wife.</p> + +<p>"Darling," he murmured, "I have brought you back your other baby. Won't +you turn and—look at—her?"</p> + +<p>Fledra was standing at her father's side, and now for an instant she +looked down into the blue eyes through which she saw the yearning heart +of her mother. Then she knelt down with Floyd, and they rested their +heads in tearful silence under the hands of these dear ones, who +trembled with thankfulness.</p> + +<p>The last fifteen years flashed as a panorama across the governor's mind. +That day he had discharged his debt to Lon Cronk by placing the squatter +where his diseased mind could be treated, and he had insisted that his +own name and home should be Katharine's, the same as of yore. It was not +until Mildred opened the door and entered hesitantly that he raised his +head. Silently he held out his arms and drew his baby girl into them.</p> + +<hr class="minor" /> + +<p>Horace's first duty when he returned to Tarrytown was to make Ann as +comfortable as he could. She had borne up well under the tragedy, and +smiled at him bravely as he left for Vandecar's. The governor met him in +the hall and drew him into his library.</p> + +<p>"I must speak with you, boy, before—"</p> + +<p>"Then I may talk with Fledra?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + +<p>The governor hesitated.</p> + +<p>"She is so young yet, Horace! I beg of you to wait, won't you? There are +many things to be attended to before she can leave her mother and me. +We've only just found her."</p> + +<p>"I must see her, though," replied Horace stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"You shall, if you will promise me—"</p> + +<p>"I won't promise anything," said Horace, slowly raising his eyes. "After +I have spoken to her, we'll decide."</p> + +<p>Vandecar sighed and touched the bell.</p> + +<p>"Say to Miss Fledra that I wish to speak with her," he said to the +servant.</p> + +<p>After a moment they heard her coming through the hall. Vandecar placed +his hand upon Horace's arm; but the young man flung it off as the door +opened and Fledra came in. Her face was still pale and wan. Her eyes +darkened by circles, testified to the misery of the days since she had +left him. Horace spoke her name softly, held out his arms, and she fled +into them. He pressed her head closely to his breast, smoothing the +black curls, while blinding tears coursed down his face. The governor +turned from them to the window. He stood there, until Horace asked +huskily:</p> + +<p>"Fledra, Fledra, do you still love me? Oh, say that you do! I'm +perishing to be forgiven for my lack of faith in you. Can you forgive +me, beloved?"</p> + +<p>"I love you, Horace," she murmured, lifting bright, shy eyes. "And I +love my beautiful mother, too, and—oh, I—worship my splendid father."</p> + +<p>She held out one hand to Governor Vandecar, over which the father closed +his fingers. Then she threw back her head and smiled at them both.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to stay with my mother till she gets well. I'm goin' to help +Floyd till he walks as well as ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> Then I'm goin' to study and read +till my father's satisfied. Then, after that," she turned a radiant +glance on both men, and ended, "when he wants me, I'll go with my +Prince."<br /><br /></p> + +<p class="center"><a name="THE_END" id="THE_END"></a>THE END</p> + +<hr class="full" /> +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +<h3><a name="JOHN_FOX_JRS" id="JOHN_FOX_JRS"></a>JOHN FOX, JR'S.<br /> +STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS</h3> +</div> + +<p><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</b></p> + + +<p>THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p><img src="images/illus-354.png" width="100" +style="float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; +margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;" +alt="Book Image: Trail of the Lonesome Pine" +title="Book Image: Trail of the Lonesome Pine" /> + +The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +<i>foot-prints of a girl</i>. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and +the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder +chase than "the trail of the lonesome pine."</p> + + +<p>THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p>This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It +is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization.</p> + +<p>"Chad," the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he +came—he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, +seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and +mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery—a charming waif, +by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in the +mountains.</p> + + +<p>A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p>The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the +heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two +impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of "The Blight's" +charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the +love making of the mountaineers.</p> + +<p>Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives.</p> + + +<p><i>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i></p> + +<p class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +<h3><a name="THE_NOVELS_OF_WINSTON_CHURCHILL" id="THE_NOVELS_OF_WINSTON_CHURCHILL"></a>THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL</h3> +</div> + +<p>THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles.</p> + +<p>The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a +middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his +theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could +desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening +follows and in the end he works out a solution.</p> + + +<p>A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.</p> + +<p>This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As <i>The Inside of +the Cup</i> gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so +<i>A Far Country</i> deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with +other vital issues confronting the twentieth century.</p> + + +<p>A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper.</p> + +<p>This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine, +is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It +is frankly a modern love story.</p> + + +<p>MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys.</p> + +<p>A New England state is under the political domination of a railway and +Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people +is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own +interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays +no small part in the situation.</p> + + +<p>THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis.</p> + +<p>Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky +wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in +Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi, +and the treasonable schemes against Washington.</p> + + +<p>CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn.</p> + +<p>A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a +crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then +surrendered all for the love of a woman.</p> + + +<p>THE CELEBRITY. An episode.</p> + +<p>An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities +between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest, +keenest fun—and is American to the core.</p> + + +<p>THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play.</p> + +<p>A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid +power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are +inspiring.</p> + + +<p>RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer.</p> + +<p>An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial +times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and +interesting throughout.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +<h3><a name="ZANE_GREYS_NOVELS" id="ZANE_GREYS_NOVELS"></a>ZANE GREY'S NOVELS</h3> +</div> + +<p><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.</b></p> + + +<p>THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton.</p> + +<p>Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent Mexican +border of the present day. A New York society girl buys a ranch which +becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal cowboys defend her +property from bandits, and her superintendent rescues her when she is +captured by them. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful +close.</p> + + +<p>DESERT GOLD Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> + +<p>Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, lost in the +desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they can go no +farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising along the +border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the two prospectors +had willed to the girl who is the story's heroine.</p> + + +<p>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> + +<p>A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon +authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a rich ranch +owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by the invisible +hand of the Mormon Church to break her will.</p> + + +<p>THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN Illustrated with photograph reproductions.</p> + +<p>This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, +known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert +and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of yellow crags, deep canons +and giant pines." It is a fascinating story.</p> + + +<p>THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT Jacket in color. Frontispiece.</p> + +<p>This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A lovely girl, who +has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young New Englander. The +Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall become the second +wife of one of the Mormons—</p> + +<p>Well, that's the problem of this sensational, big selling story.</p> + + +<p>BETTY ZANE Illustrated by Louis F. Grant.</p> + +<p>This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful +young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. Life +along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty's heroic defense of the +beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, and Betty's +final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story.</p> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York</span></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +<h3> +<a name="STORIES_OF_RARE_CHARM_BY_GENE_STRATTON-PORTER" id="STORIES_OF_RARE_CHARM_BY_GENE_STRATTON-PORTER"></a>STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER</h3> +</div> + +<p><b>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.</b></p> + +<p>LADDIE. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.</p> + + +<p><img src="images/illus-357.png" width="100" +style="float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; +margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;" +alt="Book Image: Laddie" +title="Book Image: Laddie" /> + +This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story +is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it +is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs +of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie, the +older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess, an English +girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about whose family +there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the book and a +double wedding at the close.</p> + + +<p>THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.</p> + +<p>"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who +draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the +book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be +notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," and the +Harvester's whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life +which has come to him—there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic +quality.</p> + + +<p>FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford.</p> + +<p>Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great +Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to +the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The +Angel" are full of real sentiment.</p> + + +<p>A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.</p> + +<p>The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of +the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness +towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of +her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and +unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.</p> + + +<p>AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp.</p> + +<p>The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The +story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. +The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and +its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber's notes:</h3> +<p>Punctuation has been made regular and + consistent with contemporary standards.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Valley of the Missing, by +Grace Miller White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + +***** This file should be named 18093-h.htm or 18093-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/0/9/18093/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: From the Valley of the Missing + +Author: Grace Miller White + +Release Date: April 1, 2006 [EBook #18093] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: ANN SHELLINGTON ANTICIPATES EVIL. + + _Frontispiece_ (_Page_ 276.)] + + +FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING +BY +GRACE MILLER WHITE + +AUTHOR OF +TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY + +ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES FROM THE PHOTO-PLAY +PRODUCED AND COPYRIGHTED BY THE FOX FILM +CORPORATION + +GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS: NEW YORK + + * * * * * + +Copyright, 1911, by +W. J. WATT & COMPANY + +Published, August, 1911 + + * * * * * + + +"FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING" + + + + +CHAPTER ONE + + +One afternoon in late October four lean mules, with stringy muscles +dragging over their bones, stretched long legs at the whirring of their +master's whip. The canalman was a short, ill-favored brute, with coarse +red hair and freckled skin. His nose, thickened by drink, threatened the +short upper lip with obliteration. Straight from ear to ear, deep under +his chin, was a zigzag scar made by a razor in his boyhood days, and +under emotion the injured throat became convulsed at times, causing his +words to be unintelligible. The red flannel shirt, patched with colors +of lighter shades, lay open to the shoulders, showing the dark, rough +skin. + +"Git--git up!" he stuttered; and for some minutes the boat moved +silently, save for the swish of the water and the patter of the mules' +feet on the narrow path by the river. + +From the small living-room at one end of the boat came the crooning of a +woman's voice, a girlish voice, which rose and fell without tune or +rhythm. Suddenly the mules came to a standstill with a "Whoa thar!" + +"Pole me out a drink, Scraggy," bawled the man, "and put a big snack of +whisky in it--see?" + +The boulder-shaped head shot forward in command as he spoke. And he +held the reins in his left hand, turning squarely toward the scow. +Pushing out a dark, rusty, steel hook over which swung a ragged +coat-sleeve, he displayed the stump of a short arm. + +As the woman appeared at the bow of the boat with a long stick on the +end of which hung a bucket, Lem Crabbe wound the reins about the steel +hook and took the proffered pail in the fingers of his left hand. + +"Ye drink too much whisky, Lem," called the woman. "Ye've had as many as +twenty swigs today. Ye'll get no more till we reaches the dock--see?" + +To this Lem did not reply. His shrewd eyes traveled up and down the +girlish figure in evil meaning. His thick lips opened, and the swarthy +cheeks went awry in a grimace. Before the hideous spasm of his silent +merriment the woman who loved him paled, and turned away with a shudder. +She slouched down the short flight of steps, and the man, with a grin, +malicious and cunning, lifted the tin pail to his lips. + +"It's time for her to go," he muttered as he wiped his mouth, "it's time +for her to go! Git back here, Scraggy, and take this 'ere drink cup!" + +This time the woman appeared with a fat baby in her arms. Mechanically +she unloosened the pail from the bent nail on the end of the pole and +put it down, watching the man as he unwound the reins from the hook. +Again the long-eared animals stretched their muscles at his hoarse +command. He paid no more attention to the woman, who, seated on a pile +of planks, was eying the square end of the boat. She drew a plaid shawl +close up under the baby's chin and threaded her listless fingers through +his dark curls. Scraggy's thin hair was drawn back from her wan face, +and her narrow shoulders were bowed with burdens too heavy for her +years; but she hugged the little creature sleeping on her breast, and +still kept her eyes upon the scene. Beyond she could see the smoke +rising from the buildings in the city of Albany, where they were to draw +the boat up for the night. On each side of the river bank, behind clumps +of trees, stood the mansions of those men for whom, according to Scraggy +Peterson's belief, the world had been made. Finally her gaze dropped to +the scow, where little rivers of water made crooked paths across the +deck. Piles of planks reared high at her back, and edged the scow with +the squareness of a room. Scraggy knew that hauling lumber was but the +cover for a darker trade. Yet as she glanced at the stolid, indifferent +man trudging behind the mules a lovelight sprang into her eyes. + +Later, by an hour, the mules came to a halt at Lem's order. + +"Throw down that gangplank, Scraggy," stammered Crabbe, "and put the +brat below! I want to get these here mules in. The storm'll be here in +any minute." + +Obediently the woman hastened to comply, and soon the tired mules +munched their suppers, their long faces filling the window-gaps of the +stable. + +Lem Crabbe followed the woman down the scow-steps amid gusty howls of +the wind, and the night fell over the city and the black, winding river. +The man ate his supper in silence, furtively casting his eyes now and +then upon the slender figure of the woman. He chewed fast, uttering no +word, and the creaking of the heavy jaws and the smacking of the coarse +lips were the only sounds to be heard after the woman had taken her +place at the table. Scraggy dared not yet begin to eat; for something +new in her master's manner filled her with sudden fear. By sitting very +quietly, she hoped to keep his attention upon his plate, and after he +had eaten he would go to bed. She was aroused from this thought by the +feeble whimper of her child in the tiny room of the scow's bow. +Although the woman heard, she made no move to answer the weak summons. + +She rose languidly as the child began to cry more loudly; but a command +from Lem stopped her. + +"Set down!" he said. + +"The brat's a wailin'," replied Scraggy hoarsely. + +"Set down, and let him wail!" shouted Lem. + +Scraggy sank unnerved into the chair, gazing at him with terrified eyes. +"Why, Lem, he's too little to cry overmuch." + +"Keep a settin', I say! Let him yap!" + +For the second time that day Scraggy's face shaded to the color of +ashes, and her gaze dropped before the fierce eyes directed upon her. + +"Ye said more'n once, Scraggy," began Lem, "that I wasn't to drink no +more whisky. Whose money pays for what I drink? That's what I want ye to +tell me!" + +"Yer money, Lem dear." + +"And ye say as how I couldn't drink what I pay for?" + +"Yep, I has said it," was the timid answer. "Ye drink too much--that's +what ye do! Ye ain't no mind left, ye ain't! And it makes ye ugly, so it +does!" + +"Be it any of yer business?" demanded Lem insultingly, as he filled his +mouth with a piece of brown bread. After washing it down with a drink of +whisky, he finished, "Ye ain't no relation to me, be ye?" + +The thin face hung over the tin plate. + +"Ye ain't married to me, be ye?" + +And, while a giant pain gnawed at her heart, she shook her head. + +"Then what right has ye got to tell me what to do? Shut up or get +out--ye see?" + +He closed his jaw with a vicious snap, resting his half-dazed head on +his mutilated arm. Louder came the baby's cries from the back room. +Thinking Lem had ended his tirade, Scraggy made a motion to rise. + +"Set still!" growled Crabbe. + +"Can't I get the brat, Lemmy?" she pleaded. "He's likely to fall offen +the bed." + +"Let him fall. What do I care? I want to tell ye somethin'. I didn't +bring ye here to this boat to boss me, ye see? Ye keep yer mouth shet +'bout things what ye don't like. Ye're in my way, anyhow." + +"Ye mean, Lemmy, as how I has to leave ye?" + +Crabbe regarded the appealing face soddenly before answering. "Yep, +that's what I mean. I'm tired of a woman allers a snoopin' around, and a +hundred times more tired of the brat." + +"But he's yer own," cried the woman, "and ye did say as how ye'd marry +me for his sake! Didn't ye say it, Lem? He ain't nothin' but a baby, an' +he don't cry much. Will ye let me an' him stay, Deary?" + +"Ye can stay tonight; but tomorry ye go, and I don't give a hell where, +so long as ye leave this here scow, an' I'm a tellin' ye this--" He +halted with an exasperated gesture. "Go an' get that kid an' shet his +everlastin' clack!" + +Scraggy bounded into the inner room, and, once out of sight of the +watchful eyes of Lem, snatched up the infant and pressed her lips +passionately to the rosy skin. + +"Yer mammy'll allers love ye, little 'un, allers, allers, no matter what +yer pappy does!" + +She whispered this under her breath; then, dragging the red shawl about +her shoulders, appeared in the living-room with the child hidden from +view. + +"An' I'll tell ye somethin' else, too," burst in Lem, pulling out a +corncob pipe: "that it ain't none of yer business if I steal or if I +don't. I was born a thief, as I told ye many a time, and last night ye +made Lon Cronk and Eli mad as hell by chippin' in." + +"They be bad men," broke in the woman, "and ye know--" + +"I know ye're a damn blat-heels, and I know more'n that: that yer own +pappy ain't no angel, and ye needn't be a sayin' my friends ain't no +right here--ye see? They be--" + +"They be thieves and liars, too," interrupted Scraggy, allowing the +sleeping babe to sink to her knees, "and the prison's allers a yawnin' +for 'em!" + +"Wall, I ain't a runnin' this boat for fun," drawled Lem, "nor for to +draw lumber for any ole guy in Albany. Ye know that I draw it jest to +hide my trade, and if, after ye leave here, ye open yer head to tell +what ye've seen, ye'll get this--ye see?" He held up the hooked arm +menacingly. "Ye've seen me rip up many a man with it, ain't ye, +Scraggy?" + +"Yep." + +"And I ain't got nothin' ag'in' rippin' up a woman, nuther. So, when ye +go back to yer pa in Ithacy, keep yer mouth shet.... Will ye let up that +there cryin'?" + +Suppressing her tears, Scraggy shoved back a little from the table. "I +love ye, Lem," she choked, "and, if ye let me stay, I'll do whatever ye +say. I won't talk nothin' 'bout drink nor stealin'. If I go ye'll get +another woman! I know ye can't live on this here scow without no woman." + +"And that ain't none of yer business, nuther--ye hear?" Lem grunted, +settling deep into his chair, with an oath. "I'll get all the women in +Albany, if I want 'em! I don't never want none of yer lovin' any more!" + +During this bitter insult a storm-cloud broke overhead, sending sheets +of water into the river. The wind howled above Crabbe's words, and he +brought out the last of his sentence in a higher key. Suddenly the +shrill whistle of a yacht brought the drunken man to his feet. + +"It's some 'un alone in trouble," he muttered. But his tones were not so +low as to escape the woman. + +"Ye won't do no robbin' tonight, Deary--not tonight, will ye, Lem? +'Cause it's the baby's birthday." + +Crabbe flung his squat body about toward the girl. "Shet up about that +brat!" he growled. "I don't care 'bout no birthdays. I'll steal, if the +man has anything and he's alone. I'll kill him like this, if he don't +give up. Do ye want to see how I'd kill him?" + +His eyes blazing with fire, he lifted the steel hook, brandished it in +the air, and brought it down close to the thin, drawn face. + +Scraggy, uttering a cry, sprang to her feet. "Lemmy, Lemmy, I love ye, +and the brat loves ye, too! He'll grin at ye any ole day when ye cluck +at him. And I teached him to say 'Daddy,' to surprise ye on his +birthday. Will ye list to him--will ye?" + +In her eagerness to take his attention from the shrieking yacht, now +close to the scow, Scraggy advanced toward the swaying man. She tried to +lift brave eyes to his face; but they were filled with tears as they met +his drunken, shifting look. + +"Lem, Lemmy dear," she pleaded, "we love ye, both the brat an' me! He +can say 'Daddy'--" + +"Git out of my way, git out! Some'n' be a callin'. Git out, I say!" + +"Not yet, not yet--don't go yet, Deary.... Deary! Wait till the kid says +'Daddy.'" She held out the rosy babe, pushing him almost under Lem's +chin. "Look at him, Lemmy! Ain't--he--sweet? He's yer own pretty +boy-brat, and--" + +Her loving plea was cut short; for the man, with a vicious growl, raised +his stumped arm, and the sharp part of the hook scraped the skin from +her hollow cheek. It paused an instant on the level of her chin, then +descended into the upturned chest of the child. With a scream, Scraggy +dragged the boy back, and a wail rose from the tiny lips. Crabbe turned, +cursing audibly, and stumbled up the steps to the stern of the boat. The +woman heard him fall in his drunken stupor, and listened again and again +for him to rise. Her face was white and rigid as she stopped the flow of +blood that drenched the infant's coarse frock. Then, realizing the +danger both she and the child were in, since in all likelihood Lem would +sleep but a few minutes, she slid open the window and looked out upon +the dark river in search of help. Splashes of rain pelted her face, +while a gust of wind caused the scow to creak dismally. Scraggy could +see no human being, only the lights of Albany blinking dimly through the +raging storm. Another shrieking whistle warned her that the yacht was +still near. Sailors' voices shouted orders, followed by the chug, chug, +chug of an engine reversed. + +But, in spite of the efforts of the engineer, the wind swung the small +craft sidewise against the scow, and, stupefied, Scraggy found herself +gazing into the face of another woman who was peering from the launch's +window. It was a small, beautiful face shrouded with golden hair, the +large blue eyes widened with terror. For a brief instant the two women +eyed each other. Just then the drunken man above rose and called +Scraggy's name with an oath. She heard him stumbling about, trying to +find the stairs, muttering invectives against herself and her child. + +Scraggy looked down upon the little boy's face, twisted with pain. She +placed her fingers under his chin, closed the tiny jaws, and wrapped the +shawl about the dark head. Without a moment's indecision, she thrust him +through the window-space and said: + +"Be ye a good woman, lady, a good woman?" + +The owner of the golden head drew back as if afraid. + +"Ye wouldn't hurt a little 'un--a sick brat? He--he's been hooked. And +it's his birthday. Take him, 'cause he'll die if ye don't!" + +Moved to a sense of pity, the light-haired woman extended two slender +white hands to receive the human bundle, struggling in pain under the +muffling shawl. + +"He's a dyin'!" gasped Scraggy. "His pappy's a hatin' him! Give him warm +milk--" + +Again the yacht's whistle shrieked hoarsely, drowning her last words. As +the stern of the little boat swung round, Scraggy read, stamped in black +letters upon it: + + HAROLD BRIMBECOMB, + TARRYTOWN-ON-THE-HUDSON, + NEW YORK. + +The yacht shot away up the river, and was lost to the dull eyes that +continued peering for a last glimpse of the phantom-like boat that had +snatched her dying treasure from her. Then, at last, the stricken woman +turned, alone, to meet Lem Crabbe. + +"Where's that brat?" he demanded in a thick voice. + +"I throwed him in the river," declared the mother. "He were dead. Yer +hook killed him, Lem. He's gone!" + +"I'll kill his mammy, too!" muttered Crabbe. "Git ye here--here--down +here--on the floor!" + +His throat worked painfully as he threw the threatening words at her; +they mingled harshly with the snarling of the wind and the sonorous +rumble of the river. So great was Scraggy's fright that she sped round +the wooden table to escape the frenzied man. Taking the steps in two +bounds, she sprang to the deck like a cat, thence to the bank, and sped +away into the rain, with Lem's cries and curses ringing in her ears. + + + + +CHAPTER TWO + + +Five years later the _Monarch_ was drawn up to the east bank of the Erie +Canal at Syracuse. It was past midnight, and with the exception of those +on Lem Crabbe's scow the occupants of all the long line of boats were +sleeping. Three men sat silently working in the living-room of the boat. +Lem Crabbe, Silent Lon Cronk, and his brother Eli, Cayuga Lake +squatters, were the workers. At one end of the room hung a broken iron +kettle. Into this Eli Cronk was dropping bits of gold which he cut from +baubles taken from a basket. Crabbe, his short legs drawn up under his +body, held a pair of pliers in his left hand, while caught firmly in the +hook was a child's tiny pin. From this he tore the small jewels, threw +them into a tin cup, and passed the setting on to Eli. The other man, +taciturn and fierce, was flattening out by means of strong pressers +several gold rings and bracelets. The three had worked for many hours +with scarcely a word spoken, with scarcely a recognition of one another. + +Of a sudden Eli Cronk raised his head and said, "Lem, Scraggy was to +Mammy's t'other day." + +"I didn't know ye'd been to Ithacy?" Lem made the statement a question. + +"Yep, I went to see Mammy, and she says as how Scraggy's pappy were +dead, and as how the gal's teched in here." His words were low, and he +raised his forefinger to his head significantly. + +"She ain't allers a stayin' in the squatter country nuther," he pursued. +"She takes that damn ugly cat of her'n and scoots away for a time. And +none of 'em up there don't know where she goes. Hones' Injun, don't she +never come about this here scow, Lem?" + +"Hones' Injun," replied Lem laconically, without looking up from his +work. + +Presently Eli continued: + +"Mammy says as how the winter's comin', and some 'un ought to look out +for Scraggy. She goes 'bout the lake doin' nothin' but hollerin' like a +hoot-owl, and she don't have enough to eat. But she's been gone now +goin' on two weeks, disappearin' like she's been doin' for a few years +back. Scraggy allers says she has bats in her head." + +"So she has bats," muttered Lem, "and she allers had 'em, and that's why +I made her beat it. I didn't want no woman 'bout me for good and all." + +Lem Crabbe lifted his head and glanced toward the small window +overlooking the dark canal. He had always feared the crazy +squatter-woman whom he had wrecked by his brutality. + +"I says that I don't want no woman round me for all time," he repeated. + +The third man raised his right shoulder at that; but sank into a heap +again, working more assiduously. The slight trembling of his body was +the only evidence he gave that he had heard Crabbe's words. Snip, snip, +snip! went the bits of gold into the kettle, until Eli spoke again. + +"Ye can't tell me that ye ain't goin' never to get married, Lem?" + +Crabbe lifted his hooked arm viciously. "I ain't said nothin' like that. +I says as how Scraggy can keep away from my scow." + +"Don't she never come here no more?" asked Eli in disbelief. + +"Nope, not after them three beatin's I give her. She kept a comin', and +I had to wallop her. I'd do it again if she snoops 'bout here." + +"Ye beat her up well, didn't ye, Lem? And she telled Mammy that yer brat +were drowned one night in the river. Were it, Lem?" + +There was an expectant pause between his first and last questions, and +Lem waited almost as long before he grunted: + +"Yep." + +"Did ye throw it in when ye was drunk?" + +"Nope, he jest fell in--that's all." + +"I guess that last beatin' ye give Scraggy made her batty. Mam says that +she ain't no more sense than her cat." + +"Let her keep to hum then, and she won't get beat. I don't do no runnin' +after her!" + +Again there came a space of time during which Eli and Lem worked in +silence. From far away in the city there came the sound of the fire +whistle, followed by the ringing of bells. But not one of the men ceased +his clipping to satisfy any curiosity he might have had. + +Suddenly Lem Crabbe spoke louder than he had before that evening. + +"Women ain't no good, nohow! They don't love no men, and men don't love +them. What's the good of havin' 'em round to feed and to bother a feller +'bout drinkin' an' things? Less a man sees of 'em the better!" + +The third man, Silent Lon Cronk, sunk lower at his work, even more +fiercely flattening the gemless rings under the pressers. After a few +moments he laid down his tools and began to stretch his long legs, +scraping into a cup the bits of gold from his lap. + +"I've been goin' to ask ye fellers somethin' for a long time. Might as +well now as any other night, eh?" + +"Yep," replied Eli eagerly. + +"'Tain't nothin' that will take any money out yer pockets; 'twill put it +in, more likely. We've been stealin' together for how long, Lem? How +long we been pals?" + +"Nigh onto ten years, I'm thinkin'. It were that year that Tilly +Jacobson got burned, weren't it?" + +"Yep, for ten years," replied Lon, ignoring Lem's last query, "and we've +allers been hones' with each other. I've been hones' with both of ye, +and ye've been hones' with me. Eh?" + +"Yep." + +"Lem, do ye want all the swag in this here room, only a sharin' up with +Eli, without havin' to share and share alike with me?" + +A small jewel bounded from the steel hook, and the pliers fell from +Lem's fingers. Eli dropped back upon his bare feet. + +"What's in the wind?" demanded Lem. + +"Only want ye to help me with a job some night that won't be nothin' to +nuther of ye. But it's all to me. Will ye?" + +Lem wriggled nearer on the floor. "Ye mean stealin', Lon?" he demanded. + +"Yep." + +"And we ain't to share up with it?" + +"Nope; but ye're to have all that's in this here room. If I tell ye, +will ye help?" + +Crabbe looked at Eli, and a furtive look was shot back. Each was afraid +of the other; but for the big, gloomy man before them they had vast +respect. + +"What be ye goin' to steal, Lon? Tell us before we say we'll help." + +"Kids," muttered Lon moodily. + +"Live kids?" asked Eli, in great surprise. + +"Yep, live ones. What do I want with dead ones? Will ye help?" + +"Can't see no good a swipin' kids. What do ye want with 'em?" + +"I'll tell ye if ye sit up and listen to me." + +Crabbe dropped his hooked arm and leaned against the wall. Eli lighted a +pipe. A mysterious change had passed over Silent Lon's face. The blue +eyes glowed out from under a massive brow, and a mouth cruel and +vindictive set firm-jawed over decayed teeth. + +"I'll tell ye this much for all time, Lem Crabbe: that ye lied when ye +said that no woman could love no man--ye lied, I say!" + +So fierce had he become that the man with the hook drew back into the +corner and sat staring sullenly. Eli puffed more vigorously on his pipe. + +Lon went on: + +"I had a woman oncet," said he, "and she were every bit mine. And she +were little--like this." + +The big fellow measured off a space with his hand and, straightening +again, stood against the wall of the scow, his head reaching almost to +the ceiling. + +"She were mine, I say, and any man what says she weren't--" + +"Where be she?" interrupted Lem curiously. + +"Dead," replied Lon, "as dead as if she'd never been alive, as dead as +if she'd never laid ag'in' my heart when I wanted her! God! how I wanted +her!" + +"But were she a woman?" asked Lem meditatively. + +"Yep, she were a woman, and I married her square, I did!" + +Lon stirred his dank black hair ferociously, standing it on end with +horny fingers. "I loved her, Lem Crabbe," he continued hoarsely. "I +loved her, that I know! And ye can let that devilish grin ride on yer +lips when I say it and I don't give a hell; but--but if ye say that she +didn't love me, if ye so much as smile when I say that she died a +callin' me, that she went away lovin' me every minute, I--I'll rip +offen yer hooked arm and tear out yer in'ards with it!" + +He was leaning against the wall no longer. As he spoke, he came closer +to the crouching canalman, his eyes straining from their sockets in +livid hate. But he halted, and presently began to speak in a voice more +subdued. + +"But she's dead, and I'm goin' to get even. He killed her, he did, +'cause he wouldn't let me see her, and he's got to go the same way I +went! He's got to tear his hair and call God to curse some 'un he won't +know who! He's got to want his kids like as how I've been wantin' +mine--" + +"Ye ain't had no kids, Lon," his brother broke in scoffingly. + +"I would a had if he'd a kept his hands to hum and let me see her. But +she were so little an' young-like an' afeard, and I telled her that +night--I telled her when she whispered that she were a goin' to have a +baby, and said as how she couldn't stand bein' hurt--I says, 'Midge +darlin', do it hurt the grass to grow jest 'cause the winds bend it +double? Do it hurt the little birds to bust out of their shells in the +springtime?' And she knowed what I meant, that not even what she were a +thinkin' of could hurt her if I was there close by." + +His deep voice sank almost to a whisper, a hard, heavy sob closing his +throat. He shook himself fiercely and continued: + +"I took her up close--God! how close I tooked her up! And I telled her +that there wasn't no pain big 'nough to hurt her when I were there--that +even God's finger couldn't tech her afore it went through me. And she +fell to sleep like a bird, a trustin' me, 'cause I said as how there +wasn't goin' to be no hurt. And all the time I knowed I were a lyin'--I +knowed that she'd suffer--" + +His voice trailed into silence, the muscles of his dark face twitching +under the gnawing heart-pain; but after a time he conquered his feelings +and went on: + +"Then they comed and took me away for stealin' jest that there week and +sent me up to Auburn prison, and they wouldn't let me stay with her. And +I telled the state's lawyer, Floyd Vandecar, this; I says, 'Vandecar, ye +be a good man, I be a thief, and ye caught me square, ye did. My little +Midge be sick like women is sick sometimes, and she wants me, like every +woman wants her man jest then, an' if ye'll let me see her, to stay a +bit, I'll go up for twice my time.' But he jest laughed till--" + +Lon stopped speaking, and neither listener moved. For a moment he +lowered his head to the small boat window and gazed out into the vapors +hanging low over the opposite bank. + +Turning again, he backed up to the scow's side and proceeded in a lower +voice: + +"When they telled me she were dead, they had to set me in the jacket, +buckled so tight ye could hear my bones crack. The warden ain't got no +blame comin' from me, 'cause I smashed his face afore he'd done tellin' +me. And I felled the keeper like that!" He raised a knotty fist and +thrust it forth. "But it were all 'cause I wanted to be with her so, +'cause I couldn't stand the knowin' that she'd gone a callin' and a +callin' me!" + +He was quiet so long that Eli Cronk drew his sleeve across his face to +break the oppressive stillness. Here, in the dead of night, his somber +brother had been transformed into another creature,--a passionate +creature, responding to the call of a dead woman, a man whose hatred +would carry him to fearful lengths. + +The hoarse voice broke forth again: + +"Midge darlin', dead baby, and all that ye had belongin' to me, I do it +for you! I'll steal his'n, and they'll suffer and suffer--" + +He tossed up his great head with a jerk, crushing the sentiment from his +voice. + +"But that don't make no matter now," he muttered. "I'm goin' to take his +kids! He's got two, an' he's prouder'n a turkey cock of 'em. I'll take +'em and I'll make of 'em what I be--I'll make 'em so damn bad that he +won't want 'em no more after I get done with 'em! I'll see what his +woman does when she finds 'em gone! Will ye help, Lem--Eli?" + +"Yep, by God, you bet!" burst from both men at once. + +"I'll take 'em to the squatter country, up to Mammy's," Lon proceeded, +"and, Eli, if ye'll take one of 'em on the train up to McKinneys Point, +I'll take t'other one up the west side of the lake. I'll pay all the +way, Eli; it won't be nothin' out o' yer pocket. We'll tell Mammy the +kids be mine--see? And ye can have all there be in this here room. Be it +a bargain?" + +"Yep," assured Eli, and Lena's consent followed only an instant later. +After that there were no sounds save the snip, snip, snip of the pliers +and the occasional low grating from a jeweled trinket as the steel hook +gouged into the metal. + + + + +CHAPTER THREE + + +As Eli Cronk said, Scraggy Peterson left her lonely squatter home two +weeks before with no companion but her vicious black cat. The woman had +intervals of sanity, and during those periods her thoughts turned to a +dark-haired boy, growing up in a luxurious home. In these rare days she +donned her rude clothing, and with the cat perched close to her thin +face walked across the state to Tarrytown. Several times during the five +years after leaving Lem's scow she walked to Tarrytown, returning only +when she had seen the little boy, to take up her squatter life in her +father's hut. So secretive was she that no one had been taken into her +confidence; neither had she interfered with her child in any way. Never +once, hitherto, had her senses left her on those long country marches +toward the east; but often when she turned backward she would utter +forlorn cries, characteristic of her malady. + + * * * * * + +At eight o'clock, four hours before Lon Cronk opened his heart to his +companions, Scraggy, footsore and weary, entered Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and seated herself on the damp earth to gather strength. By begging and +stealing she had managed to reach her destination; but now for the first +time on this journey the bats were in her head, sounding the walls of +her poor brain with the ceaseless clatter of their wings. Still the +mother heart called for its own, through the madness--called for one +sight of Lem's child and hers. At length after a long rest she turned +into a broad path which she knew well, and did not halt until she was +staring eager-eyed into the window of Harold Brimbecomb's house which +stood close to the cemetery. + +[Illustration: FOR MIDGE'S SAKE.] + +To the left of the Brimbecomb's was the mansion, belonging to the +orphans of Horace Shellington. The young Horace and his sister Ann were +the favorite companions of Everett Brimbecomb, now six years old. He was +a strong, proud, handsome lad. Many conjectures had been made concerning +him by the Tarrytown people, because one day five years before the +delicate, light-haired wife of Mr. Brimbecomb had appeared with a +dark-haired baby boy, announcing that from that day on he would take the +place of her own child who had died a few months before. No person had +told Everett that the millionaire was not his father, nor was he made to +understand that the mother and the home were not his by right of birth. +His bright mind and handsome appearance were the pride of his adopted +mother's life, and his rich father smiled only the more leniently when +the lad showed a rebellious spirit. In the child's dark, limpid eyes +slumbered primeval passions, needing but the dawn of manhood to break +forth, perhaps to destroy the soul beneath their reckless domination. + +Everett was entertaining Ann and Horace Shellington at dinner, and after +the repast the youngsters betook themselves to the large square room +given to the young host's own use. Here were multitudinous playthings +and mechanical toys of all descriptions. For many minutes the children +had been too interested to note that the shadows were grown long and +that a somber gloom had settled down over the cemetery that lay just +beyond the windows. + +Ann Shellington, a delicate little creature of eight, looked up +nervously. "Everett, draw down the curtain," she said. "It looks so +ghostly out there!" + +Ann made a motion toward the window; but the boy did not obey her. + +"Isn't that just like a girl, Horace?" he asked. "I'm not afraid of +ghosts. Dead people can't walk, can they, Horace?" + +The other boy answered "No" thoughtfully, as he started a miniature +train across the length of the room. + +"Then who is it that walks in the night out there?" insisted the girl. +"Lots of town people have seen it. It's a woman with shaggy hair, and +sometimes her eyes turn green." + +"Pouf!" scoffed Everett. "My father says there aren't any such things as +ghosts. I wouldn't be a fraidy cat, Ann." + +"I'm not a fraidy cat," pouted the girl. "I always go upstairs alone, +don't I, Horace?" + +Another answer in the affirmative, and Horace proceeded to roll the +train back over the carpet. + +"If you had any mother," said Everett, "she'd tell you there weren't any +ghosts. My mother tells me that." + +"I haven't any mother," sighed the little girl, listlessly folding her +hands in her lap. + +"Nor any father, either," supplemented Horace, with seemingly no thought +of the magnitude of his statement. "I don't believe in ghosts, anyhow!" + +He glanced up as he spoke, and the train fell with a bang to the floor. +Everett Brimbecomb dropped the toy he held in his hand, and Ann bounded +from her chair. A white face with wide eyes, staring through scraggly +gray hair, appeared at the window. For only an instant it pressed +against the pane, then vanished as if it had never been. + +"It was a woman," gasped Horace, "or was it a--" + +"It wasn't a ghost," interrupted Everett stoutly. "I dare follow it out +there. Look at me!" + +He straightened his shoulders, threw up his dark head, and opened the +door leading to the narrow walk at the side of the house. In another +moment the watching boy and girl at the window saw him dart into the +hedge and a minute later emerge through it, picking his way among the +ancient graves. Suddenly from behind a tall monument stole a figure, and +as it approached the solemn eyes of the apparition smiled in dull wonder +on Everett Brimbecomb. + +Scraggy held out her hands. "Don't run away, little 'un," she whispered. +"There be bats flyin' about in my head; but my cat won't hurt ye." + +She passed one arm about the snarling creature perched on her shoulder; +but the cat with a hiss only raised himself higher. + +"Don't spit at the pretty boy, Kitty--pretty pussy, black pussy!" +wheedled the woman. "He won't hurt ye, childy. Come nearer, will ye? +This be a good cat." + +"Are you a ghost?" demanded Everett, edging into the light. + +"Nope, I ain't no ghost. I love ye, pretty boy. Ye won't tell no one +that I speak to ye, will ye? I ain't doin' no hurt." + +"What do you carry that cat for, and what's your name?" demanded Everett +insolently; for the proud young eyes had noticed the disheveled figure. +"If any one of our men see you about here, they'll shoot you. I'd shoot +you and your cat, too, if I had my father's gun!" + +Scraggy smiled wanly. "Screech Owl's my name," said she. "They call me +that 'cause I'm batty. But ye wouldn't hurt me, little 'un, 'cause I +love ye. How old be ye?" + +"Six years old; but it isn't any of your business. Crazy people ought to +be locked up. You'd better go away from here. My father owns that house, +and--don't you follow me through the hedge. Get back, I say! If I call +Malcolm--" + +Everett drew back through the box-hedge, and the boy and the girl at the +window saw the woman squeeze in after him. In another moment the young +heir to the Brimbecomb fortune bounded through the doorway. His face was +white; his eyes were filled with fear. + +"Did you see that old woman?" he gasped. "She tried to kiss me, and I +punched her in the face, and her cat did this to my arm." + +He pulled up his sleeve, and displayed a long scratch from wrist to +elbow. + +"Are you sure it wasn't a ghost, Everett?" asked Ann, shivering. + +"Of course, it wasn't," boasted Everett. "It was only a horrid woman +with a cat--that's all." + +As he closed the door vehemently, there drifted to the children from the +marble monument and waving trees the faint wail of a night-owl. + + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + + +On a fashionable street in Syracuse, Floyd Vandecar, district attorney +of the city, lived in a new house, built to please the delicate fancies +of his pretty wife. His career had been comet-like. Graduated from +Cornell University and starting in law with his father, he had succeeded +to a large practice when but a very young man. Then came the call for +his force and strength to be used for the state, and, with a gratified +smile, he accepted the votes of his constituents to act as district +attorney. Then, as Lon Cronk had told, it came within the duty of the +young lawyer to convict the thief of grand larceny committed three years +before. After that Floyd married the lovely Fledra Martindale, and a +year later his twin children were born--a sturdy boy and a tiny girl. +The children were nearly a year old when Fledra Vandecar whispered +another secret to her husband, and Vandecar, lover-like, had gathered +his darling into his arms, as if to hold her against any harm that might +come to her. This happened on the morning following the night when +Silent Lon Cronk told the dark tale of suffering to his pals. + +Just how Lon Cronk came to know the inner workings of the Vandecar +household he never confided; but, biding his time, waited for the hour +to come when the blow would be harder to bear. At last it fell, fell not +only upon the brilliant district attorney, but upon his lovely wife and +his hapless children. + + * * * * * + +One blustering night in March, Lem Crabbe's scow was tied at the locks +near Syracuse. The day for the fulfilment of Lon Cronk's revenge had +arrived. That afternoon Lon had come from Ithaca with his brother Eli to +meet Lem. + +"Be ye goin' to steal the kids tonight, Lon?" asked Lem. + +"Yep, tonight." + +"Why don't ye take just one? It'd make 'em sit up and note a bit to +crib, say, the boy." + +"We'll take 'em both," replied Lon decisively. + +"And if we get caught?" stammered Crabbe. + +"We don't get caught," assured Lon darkly, "'cause tonight's the time +for 'em all to be busy 'bout the Vandecar house. I know, I do--no matter +how!" + + * * * * * + +Wee Mildred Vandecar was ushered into the world during one of the worst +March storms ever known in the western part of New York. As she lay +snuggled in laces in her father's home, a tall man walked down a lane, +four miles from Ithaca, with her sleeping sister in his arms. The dark +baby head was covered by a ragged shawl; two tender, naked feet +protruded from under a coarse skirt. Lon Cronk struggled on against the +wind to a hut in the rocks, opened the door, and stepped inside. + +A woman, not unlike him, in spite of added years, rose as he entered. + +"So ye comed, Lon," she said. + +"Course! Did Eli get here with the other brat?" + +"Yep, there 'tis. And he's been squalling for the whole night and day. +He wanted the other little 'un, I'm a thinkin'." + +"Yep," answered Lon somberly, "and he wants his mammy, too. But, as I +telled ye before, she's dead." + +"Be ye reely goin' to live to hum, Lon?" queried the old woman eagerly. + +"Yep. And ye'll get all ye want to eat if ye'll take care of the kids. +Be ye glad to have me stay to hum?" + +"Yep, I'm glad," replied the mother, with a pathetic droop to her +shriveled lips. + +Just then the child on the cot turned over and sat up. The small, +tear-stained face was creased with dirt and molasses. Bits of bread +stuck between fingers that gouged into a pair of gray eyes flecked with +brown. Noting strangers, he opened his lips and emitted a forlorn wail. +The other baby, in the man's arms, lifted a bonny dark head with a jerk. + +For several seconds the babies eyed each other. Two pairs of brown-shot +eyes, alike in color and size, brightened, and a wide smile spread the +four rosy lips. + +"Flea! Flea!" murmured the baby on the bed; and "Flukey!" gurgled the +infant in Lon's arms. + +"There!" cried the old woman. "That's what he's been a cryin' for. Set +him on the bed, Lon, for God's sake, so he'll keep his clack shet for a +minute!" + +The baby called "Flea" leaned over and rubbed the face of the baby +called "Flukey," who touched the dimpled little hand with his. Then they +both lay down on a rough, low cot in the squatter's home and forgot +their baby troubles in sleep. + + * * * * * + +The kidnapping of the twins was discovered just after Fledra Vandecar +had presented her husband with another daughter, a tiny human flower +which the strong man took in his hands with tender thanksgiving. The +three days that followed the disappearance of his children were eternal +for Floyd Vandecar. The entire police force of the country had been +called upon to help bring to him his lost treasures. So necessary was it +for him to find them that he neither slept nor worked. He had had to +tell the mother falsehood after falsehood to keep her content. The +children had suddenly become infected with a contagious disease, and the +doctor had said that the new baby must not be exposed in any +circumstances. After three long weeks of torture it devolved upon him to +tell his wife that her children were gone. + +"Sweetheart," he whispered, sitting beside her and taking her hands in +his, "do you love and trust me very much indeed?" + +The wondering blue eyes smiled upon him, and small fingers threaded his +black hair. + +"I not only love you, Dear, but trust you always. I don't want to seem +obstinate and impatient, Floyd, but if I could see my babies just from +the door I should be happy. And it won't hurt me. I haven't seen them in +three whole weeks." + +During the long, agonizing silence the young mother gathered something +of his distress. + +"Floyd, look at me!" + +Slowly he lifted his white face and looked straight at her. + +"Floyd, Floyd, you've tears in your eyes! I didn't mean to hurt you--" + +She stopped speaking, and the pain in his heart reached hers. + +"Floyd," she cried again, "is there anything the matter with--with--" + +"Hush, Fledra darling, little wife, will you be brave for my sake and +for the sake of--her?" + +His eyes were still full of tears as he touched the bundle on the bed. + +"But my babies!" moaned Mrs. Vandecar. "If there isn't anything the +matter with my babies--" + +"I want to speak to you about our children, Dear." + +"They are dead?" Mrs. Vandecar asked dully. "My babies are dead?" + +At first Vandecar could scarcely trust himself to speak; but, curbing +his emotion with an effort, he answered, "No, no; but gone for a little +while." + +His arms were tightly about her, and time and again he pressed his lips +to hers. + +"Gone where?" she demanded. + +"Fledra, you must not look that way! Listen to me, and I will tell you +about it. I promise, Fledra. Don't, don't! You must not shake so! +Please! Then you do not trust me to bring them back to you?" + +His last appeal brought the tense arms more limply about his neck. She +had believed him absolutely when he said they were not dead. + +"Am I to have them tonight?" + +"No, dear love." + +"Where are they gone?" + +"The cradles were empty after little Mildred--" + +"They have been gone for--for three weeks!" she wailed. "Floyd, who took +them? Were they kidnapped? Have you had any letters asking for money?" + +Vandecar shook his head. + +"And no one has come to the house? Tell me, Floyd! I can't bear it! +Someone has taken my babies!" + +She raised herself on her arm wildly, fever brightening the anguished +eyes. The husband with bowed head remained praying for them and +especially for her. Another cry from the wounded mother aroused him. + +"Floyd, they have been taken for something besides money. Tell me, +Dearest! Don't you know?" + +Faithfully he told her that he could think of no human being who would +deal him a blow like this; that he had thought his life over from +beginning to end, but no new truth came out of his mental search. + +"Then they want money! Oh, you will pay anything they demand! Floyd, +will they torture my baby boy and girl? Will they?" + +"Fledra, beloved heart," groaned Vandecar, "please don't struggle like +that! You'll be very ill. I promised you that you should have them back +some day soon, very soon. Fledra, sweet wife, you still have the baby +and me--and Katherine." + +"I want my little children! I want my boy and girl!" gasped Mrs. +Vandecar. "I will have them, I will! No, I sha'n't lie down till I have +them! I'm going to find them if you won't! I will not listen to you, +Floyd, I won't ... I won't--" + +Each time the words came forth they were followed by a moan which tore +the man's heart as it had never been torn before. For a single instant +he drew himself together, forced down the terrible emotion in his +breast, and leaned over his wife. + +"Fledra, Fledra, I command you to obey me! Lie down! I am going to bring +you back your babies." + +He had never spoken to her in such a tone of authority. She sank under +it with parted lips and swift-coming breath. + +"But I want my babies, Floyd!" she whispered. "How can I think of them +out in the cold and the storm, perhaps being tortured--" + +"Fledra, sweet love, precious little mother, am I not their father, and +don't you trust me? Wait--wait a moment!" + +He moved the babe from her mother's side, called the nurse, and in a low +tone told her to keep the child until he should send for her. Then he +slipped his arms about the wailing mother, lay down beside her, and drew +her to his breast. + +During the next few hours of darkness he watched her--watched her until +the night gave way to a shadowy dawn. And as she slept he still held +her, praying tensely that he might be given power to keep his promise to +her. When she started up he gathered her closer and hushed her to sleep +as a mother does a suffering child. How gladly he would have borne her +larger share, yet more gladly would he have convinced himself that by +morning the children would be again under his roof! + +At last Mrs. Vandecar awoke, calmer and with ready faith to acknowledge +that she believed he would accomplish his task. At her own request, he +brought their tiny baby. + +"Will you see Katherine, too, Fledra," ventured Vandecar. "The poor +child hasn't slept much, and she can't be persuaded to eat." + +Misery, deep and pathetic, flashed in the blue eyes Mrs. Vandecar raised +to his. At length she faltered: + +"Floyd, I've never loved Katherine as I should. I'm sorry.... Yes, yes, +I will see her--and you will bring me my babies!" + +Vandecar stooped and kissed her; then, with a tightening of his throat, +went out. + +Five minutes later a small girl followed Mr. Vandecar in and stood +beside the bed. Fledra Vandecar took the little girl-face in her hands +and kissed it. + + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + + +The years went on, with the gap still left wide in the Vandecar +household. As month after month passed and nothing was heard of her +children, Mrs. Vandecar gradually gave up hope. Her despair left a +shadow of pathetic pleading in her blue eyes. This constant silent +appeal whitened Floyd Vandecar's hair and caused him to apply himself to +business more assiduously than ever. Never once in all those bitter +years did he connect Lon Cronk with the disappearance of his babies. + +Meantime two sturdy children were growing to girlhood and boyhood in the +Cronk hut on Cayuga Lake. So safely had the secret of the kidnapping +been kept from Granny Cronk and the other squatters in the settlement +that the twins were regarded by all as the son and daughter of the +squatter. + +The year following Flea's and Flukey's fourteenth birthday the boy was +taken into his foster-father's trade of thieving. At first he was +allowed only to enter the houses and deftly unbar the door for an easier +egress for Eli Cronk and Lem Crabbe. Later he was commanded to snatch up +anything of value he could. Many were the times he wept in boyish +bitterness against the commands of Lon, revealing his sorrows to Flea, +who listened moodily. + +"I wouldn't steal nothin' if I was you," she said again and again. But +Flukey one day silenced this reiteration by confiding to her that Pappy +Lon had threatened to turn her to his trade if he rebelled. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon in late September, Flea left the hut and went out to the +lake. Flukey, Lon Cronk, and Lem Crabbe had gone to Ithaca to buy +groceries, and it was time for them to return. A chill wind swung the +girl's skirt about her knees, and for some minutes she squatted on the +beach, keeping her eyes upon the lighthouse in the distance. + +For the last year Flea had been rapidly growing into a woman. Granny +Cronk had proudly noted that the fair face had grown lovelier, that the +ebony curls fell about her shoulders. The one dream the girl had had was +a dream of long hair, ankle dresses, and girl's shoes. Until that year +Lon had insisted that her hair be kept short, and had himself trimmed +the ebony curls every month. Now, in the damp air, they twisted and +turned in the wildest profusion. The coming of womanhood had thrown new +light into the clear-gray, brown-flecked eyes. At this moment she was +wondering what she and her brother would do if Granny Cronk died. She +shivered as she thought of life in the hut without the protecting old +woman. + +Suddenly, from above the Lehigh Valley tracks, she heard the sound of +horses' hoofs. Her attention taken from her meditations, she lifted her +pensive gaze from the lake, wheeled about, and looked for the horseman. +Flea knew that it was not a summer cottager; for many days before the +last of them had taken his family to Ithaca. Perhaps some chance +wayfarer had followed the wrong road. Just below the tracks she caught a +glimpse of a black horse, and as it came nearer Flea noted the rider, a +young man whose kindly dark eyes and white teeth dazzled her. His +straight legs were incased in yellow boots, his fine form in a tightly +fitting riding-coat. Flea had never seen just such a man, not even in +the infrequent visits she made to Ithaca. Something in his smile, as he +drew up his steed and looked down upon her, affected her with a curious +thrill. + +"Little girl, will you tell me if I am on the right road to Glenwood?" + +Flea's tongue clove to the roof of her mouth. His voice, cultivated and +deep, made her forget for a moment the question he had asked her. Then +she remembered; but instinctively she did not reply in her usual high +squatter tones. + +"Nope, ye got to go back, and turn to the right at the top of the hill. +Ye can't go round the shore from here; the water's too high." + +This impulsive desire to choose her words and to modulate her voice came +from a sudden realization that there lived another class of people +outside the squatter settlement of whom she knew little. + +"Thank you very much," replied the questioner. "Now I understand that if +I ride to the top of the hill and turn to the right, I'll reach +Glenwood?" + +"Yep," answered Flea. + +Her embarrassment caused her lips to close over the one word. +Wonderingly she watched the man ride away until the sight of his dark +horse was lost in the trees above the tracks. + +"It were a prince," she stammered in a low tone, "a real live prince!" + +Flea contemplated the darkening hills with moody eyes. She counted +slowly one by one the towers of the university buildings. This she did +merely from habit; for the expression remained unchanged on her +melancholy face. At length the gray eyes dropped to the water and fixed +their gaze upon a fishing boat turning toward the shore. A few moments +before it had been but a black speck near the lighthouse; but as it came +nearer Flea distinctly saw the two men and the boy in it. Upon the bow +of the boat was perched Snatchet, a yellow terrier, his short ears +perked up with happiness at the prospect of supper. When the craft +touched shore the girl rose and ran toward it. Almost in fear, she +searched the face of the youth at the rudder with eyes so like his own +that they seemed rather a reflection than another pair. She said no word +until she took her position beside the boy on the shore, slipping her +hand into his as she walked by his side toward the hut. + +"Be ye back for the night, Flukey?" she asked. + +"Nope." + +"Where ye goin' after supper?" + +"To Ithaca." + +"Air ye leg a hurtin' ye much?" + +"Yep." + +"Granny Cronk says as how yer pains be rheumatiz. If ye stay in out of +the night air, ye'll get well." + +"Pappy Lon won't let me," sighed Flukey. + +He sank down on the cabin threshold, and as he spoke drew a blue trouser +leg slowly up. + +"Damn knee!" he groaned. "It gets so twisted! And sometimes I can't +walk." + +"Be ye goin' to steal again tonight?" asked the girl, bending toward +him. + +"Yep, with Pappy Lon and Lem. I hate it all, I do!" he cried +impetuously. + +"What makes ye go? Take a lickin', an' I bet ye'll stay to hum. I +would!" + +With a spiteful shake of the black curls, she rubbed a bare toe over +Snatchet's yellow back. + +"I wish I was a boy," she went on. "While I hate stealin', I'd do it to +have ye stay to hum, Flukey; then ye'd get well. And--" + +She broke off abruptly and lowered her eyes to the shore, where Lem and +Lon were in earnest conversation. At the same moment Lon looked up and +shouted a command: + +"Flea gal, Flea gal, come down here to me!" + +Flea dropped the hand of her brother, moved directly to the water's +edge, and stood quietly until Lon chose to speak. + +Lem Crabbe's eyes devoured the slight young figure, his smile contorting +the corners of his whiskered mouth. One hand rested on the bow of the +boat, while the long, rusty hook, sharp at the point and thick ironed at +the top, protruded from the other coat-sleeve. + +At last Lon Cronk began to speak deliberately, and the girl gave him her +attention. + +"Flea, ye be a woman now, ain't ye?" he said "Ye be fifteen this comin' +Saturday." + +"Yep, Pappy Lon." + +"And yer brother be fifteen on the same day, you bein' twins." + +"Yep, Pappy Lon." + +"Yer brother's been taken into my trade," proceeded the squatter, "and +it ain't the wust in the world--that of takin' what ye want from them +that have plenty. It's time for ye to be doin' somethin', too. Ye'll go +to Lem's Scow, Flea." + +"To Lem's scow?" exclaimed Flea. "That ain't no place for a kid, and +nobody ain't a wantin' me, nuther! I know there ain't!" + +"Ain't there nobody a wantin' her in yer scow, Lem Crabbe?" grinned Lon. + +"Ye bet there be!" answered Lem, with an evil leer. + +Flukey, who had approached the group, placed himself closer to his +sister. "Who--who be wantin' Flea, Lem Crabbe?" he demanded. + +"It's me, it's me!" replied Lem, wheeling savagely about. + +[Illustration: "LET ME--STAY A BIT--I'LL GO UP FOR TWICE MY TIME."] + +For a short space of time nothing but the splash of the waves could be +heard as they rolled white on the shore. A change passed over Flea, and +she clutched fiercely at her brother's fingers. It was as if she had +said, "Help me, Flukey, if ye can!" But she did not speak the words; +only stared at the hook-armed man with strained eyes. + +"Flea ain't no notion of goin' away right yet, Pappy Lon," burst out +Flukey, catching his breath after the shock. "She's perferrin' to stay +with us; and I'll work for her keep, if ye let her stay." + +"Nope, I ain't no notion o' marryin'," repeated Flea, encouraged by her +brother's insistence. + +"Who said as how Lem wanted ye to marry him?" sneered Lon, eying her +from head to foot. "Yer notions one way or nother ain't nothin' to me, +my gal. Ye'll go with the man I choose for ye, and that's all there be +to it!" + +Dazed by his first words, she whispered, "I hate Lem Crabbe!" + +As if by its own volition, the hook rose threateningly to within a short +distance of the fair, appealing face. But it dropped again, as Lon +repeated: + +"That ain't nothin' to do with the thing, nuther, Flea. A man ain't a +seekin' for a lovin' woman. He wants her to take care of his shanty and +what he gets by hard work, he does, and he gives her victuals and drink +for the doin' of it. That's enough for you, or for any gal what's a +squatter." + +So well did Flea realize the powerlessness of the rigid boy at her side +to help her, that she dropped his hand and alone went nearer to the +thief. + +"Can't I stay with you and with Granny Cronk for another year? Can't I +stay? Can't I, Pappy Lon?" + +"Nope, I wouldn't keep ye in the shanty if ye had money for yer keeps. +Ye go on a Saturday to Lem's boat to be his woman, ye see?" + +The iron hook by this time was hanging loosely by Lem's side; but a +cruel expression had gathered on the sullen face. A frown drew the +crafty eyes together, bespeaking wrath at the girl's words. + +That he would have her at the bidding of her father, Lem never doubted. +During the last three years he had been resolved to take her home in due +time to be his woman. To subdue the proud young spirit, to make her the +mother of children like himself,--the boys destined to be thieves, and +the girls squatter women,--was his one ambition. That he was old enough +to be her father made no difference to him. + +He was watching her as she stood in the darkening twilight, gloating +over the thought that his vicious dreams were so near their fulfilment. + +Flea was looking into the eyes of her father, and he looked back at her +with an impudent smile. + +"Ye don't like the thought of this comin' Saturday, Flea--eh?" he asked +slowly. "But, as I said before, a gal hain't nothin' to do with the +notions of her daddy. And Granny Cronk'll give ye a pork cake to take to +Lem's, and he'll let ye eat it all to yerself. Eh, Lem?" + +"Yep," grunted Lem. "She eats the pork cake if she will; but after +that--" + +Suddenly Lon silenced Lem's words with a wag of his head toward the +girl. "Flea," he said, "I telled Lem as how ye'd kiss him tonight." + +The words stunned the girl, they were so unexpected, so terrible. She +turned her eyes upon Lem and fearfully studied his face. He was gazing +back, his open lips showing his discolored, broken teeth. The coarse, +red hair sprinkled with gray gave a fierce aspect to his whole +appearance, and from the emotion through which he was passing the +muscles under his chin worked to and fro. With a grin he advanced toward +her. Flea fell back against Flukey. The boy steadied the trembling, +slender body. + +"I ain't a goin' to kiss ye," she muttered. "I hate yer kisses! I hate +'em!" + +"Ye'll kiss him, jest the same!" ordered Lon. + +Closer and closer Lem came toward the girl; then suddenly he sprang at +her like a tiger, crushing the slim figure against his breast. For a +moment Flea was encircled by his left arm. Then she turned fiercely to +the ugly face so close to hers, and in another instant had bitten it +through the cheek. He dropped her with a yelling oath, and Flea sprang +back, turning flashing eyes upon Lon. + +"That's how I kiss him afore I go to him," she screamed, "and worser and +worser after he takes me!" + +Lon laughed wickedly. He had not expected such a display of spirit. "I +guess ye'll have to wait, Lem," he said; "fer--" + +Flea did not hear the rest of the sentence; for she and Flukey were +hurrying toward the hut. + +Lem stood wiping the blood from his face. "The cussed spit-cat!" he +hissed. "When I take her in hand--" + +"When ye take her in hand, Lem," interrupted Lon darkly, "ye can do what +ye like. Break her spirit! Break her neck, if ye want to! I don't care." + + * * * * * + +The children found Granny Cronk with bent shoulders and palsied hands +toiling over the supper. About the withered neck hung a red +handkerchief, and on top of the few gray whisps of hair rested a +spotless cap. She grunted as the children entered the room like a +whirlwind and climbed the long ladder to the loft, where for some time +the low voice of Flukey and the sobs of Flea could be heard in the +kitchen below. + +It was not until her son had entered and hung his cap upon the peg that +the old woman ventured to speak. + +"Be Flea in a tantrum, Lon?" + +"Yep, ye bet she be!" + +"Have ye been a beatin' her?" + +"Nope, I never teched her," replied the squatter; "but I will beat her, +if she don't do what I tell her. No matter how she kicks ag'in' my +notions, she has to do 'em, Granny!" + +"Yep, I know that; but I asked ye what she was a blubberin' about." + +"'Cause I says as how on Saturday she's got to go and be Lem's +woman--that's what I says." + +"Lem's woman! Do ye mean that she's got to go away?" + +"Yep, with Lem Crabbe," replied Cronk; "he's to be her man on her next +birthday. I bet he brings the kid to his likin'!" + +"Lem's a bad man, Lon," replied Mrs. Cronk, "and ye be one, too, if ye +be my own son, and Flea's your own flesh and blood, and I like her. It +would be a good thing if ye let her stay to hum while I be a livin'; and +I mean what I say, and I'm yer mammy, and that's the truth!" + +"Mammy or no mammy," answered Cronk sullenly, "Flea goes to Lem, and ye +makes her a pork cake, which she can hog down at one gulp, for all I +care--the damn brat! I say it, and Lem says it. He'll dry her tears +after she's left hum, I'm a guessin'!" + +Seeing the futility of arguing the question, Mrs. Cronk placed the fish +and beans on his plate and, with a shrill cry to Flea and Flukey, sat +down to eat. + + * * * * * + +As he stumbled along the rocks to the scow, Lem Crabbe uttered dark +threats against the girl who had bitten him. Her temper and the +spontaneous deed that had marked his face did not lessen his longing to +call her his woman, nor did it take the fever of desire from his veins. +It had strengthened his passion to such a degree that he now determined +to permit nothing to interfere with his plans. For at least three years +he had lived on the promise of Lon Cronk that he should have the girl +for weal or woe. Six months before he had offered Lon anything within +his power to set the day of Flea's coming to him nearer; but the thief +had shaken his head with the thought that Flea as a girl would not +suffer through indignities as she would as a woman. He felt no remorse +for the other girl that he had ruined so many years back; but he kept +out of the way of the crazy woman who sometimes crossed his path. + +Tonight Lem entered the living-room of his boat, muttering an oath that +ended in a groan, dropped the basket on the table, and struck a match. +He was touching it to the candle, when a sound in the corner startled +him. He turned as he finished his task and saw the brilliant eyes of +Scraggy's cat as the animal sat perched on the woman's shoulder. The +presence of Screech Owl surprised him so that he did not move for a +moment, and she spoke first: + +"I hain't seed ye in such a long time, Lem, that I thought I'd come and +let ye see my new kitty. He ain't but two years old." + +Lem took a long breath. At first he thought that this must be Scraggy's +wraith come to haunt him after some horrible lonely death. He had far +rather deal with a living Scraggy than a dead one, and at once recovered +his composure. + +"I hain't sent for ye, have I?" he asked, hanging up his coat. "And if I +ain't sent for ye, then ye needn't be sneakin' round." + +"I've a lot to say to ye," sighed Scraggy mournfully, "and I thought as +how the night was better than the day. It's dark now." + +"Then ye'd better trot hum," put in Lem, "if ye don't want another +beatin'." + +"I ain't goin' to get no beatin' tonight," assured the woman, throwing +one arm over the bristling cat, "'cause I comed to tell ye somethin'." + +Lem turned on her sharply; for Scraggy seemed to speak sanely. + +"The bats be gone from my brain, Lem, and I want to tell ye somethin' +'bout Flea--Flea Cronk--and to tell ye that I be hungry." + +"What about Flea?" snapped Lem. "Ye're bein' hungry ain't nothin' to do +with me. If ye got somethin' to tell me that I want to hear, lip it out, +and then scoot; for I ain't no time to bother with ye. My time's +precious, Scraggy--see?" + +"Yep; but I ain't goin' to tell ye nothin' till ye give me somethin' to +eat." + +She cast ravenous eyes on the small bundles Lem was placing on the +table. + +"I'll give ye a piece of bread an' 'lasses," was the grudging answer. +"And mind ye, I wouldn't do that but I want to hear what ye say 'bout +Flea." + +Avidly the woman ate the thick slice of bread and treacle, offering a +bit now and then to the cat. When she had devoured it Lem spoke: + +"Now wash it down with this here water and tell me yer tale--and if ye +lie to me I'll kill ye!" + +"I ain't a goin' to lie to ye--I'll tell ye the truth, I will!" + +They both drank, the man from the bottle, the woman from a tin cup. +Presently she asked: + +"Be ye goin' to marry Flea Cronk?" + +"Who's been carryin' tales to ye?" shouted Lem, bounding from his chair. +"Ye better be a mindin' yer own affairs, or ye'll be havin' nothin' but +bats in yer head till ye die. Scoot for hum! Ye hear?" + +"Yep; but I ain't goin' jest yet. Ye want to hear 'bout Flea, don't ye?" + +"Yep." + +"Then set down an' I'll tell ye." + +Lem, growling impatience, seated himself. + +"Flea Cronk ain't for you, Lem!" + +"Who said as how she ain't?" demanded Lem, starting up. The cat spat +viciously, startled by the sudden movement. "I wish ye'd left that damn +cat to hum! I hain't no notion to be bit by no cat." + +"Kitty won't bite ye if ye let me alone--will ye, Kitty? I ain't never +afeard of nothin' when I got him with me--be I, Kitty, pretty pussy?" + +"Stop a cooin', ye bughouse woman," snarled Crabbe, "and tell me what ye +got to!" + +"I said Flea wasn't for you." + +"Ye lie!" + +He made a desperate move toward her; but the cat rose threateningly, its +hair standing on end in a mound upon the humped back. Lem fell away with +an oath, and Scraggy, smiling wanly, petted the vicious brute. + +"I said ye was to keep away, Lem. Wait till I get done. Flea's got to be +some 'un else's, not yers." + +"Who's?" Lem's voice rose; but he did not advance toward her. + +"I dunno; but I seed him. He rides a black horse, and has a fine, big +body and wears yeller boots. This afternoon when the day was darkenin' I +saw him from the railroad bed, and I saw Flea's spirit a travelin' with +him. I know that ye cared for her this long time back; but ye can't have +her." + +"Who be the feller?" demanded Lem, frowning. + +"I said I didn't know, and I don't." + +"Were Flea with him?" + +"Nope; not in her body, but jest in her spirit." + +"Rats! Scoot along with ye, and take yer cat and get out!" + +Scraggy had not noticed the blood oozing from Lem's, cheek until she had +received her dismissal. She passed a long, red, bare arm about the +animal and asked: + +"Who bit yer cheek, Lem?" + +"Who says it were bit?" + +"I say it. I see white teeth a goin' in it. And I see red lips ag'in' it +with deadly hate." + +Lem glanced forbiddingly at the woman. "The bats be a comin' again," he +muttered, "and there ain't no tellin' what she'll do. If it wasn't for +that blasted cat, I'd chuck her in the lake!" + +But he dared not carry out his threat; for Scraggy was muttering to +herself, the cat rebuffing her rough handling. + +In another minute she rose and made toward the steps. Her eyes fell upon +Lem, and sanity flashed back into them. + +"I gived the boy to the woman--with golden hair," she stammered, as if +some power were forcing the words from her. "Ye would have killed him. +Yer kid be a livin', Lem!" + +Truth rang in her statement, and the man got to his feet abruptly. He +had almost forgotten the black-haired little boy. Only when Scraggy's +name was mentioned to him did he remember. But the woman's words awoke a +new feeling in his heart, and mentally he counted back the years to the +date of his son's birth. Scraggy was still looking at him in +bewilderment, scarcely realizing that her story had been told to the +enemy of her child. She battled with a desire to blurt out the whole +truth; but the man's next words silenced her. + +"Who be the golden-haired woman, Scraggy?" he wheedled. + +"What woman--what golden-haired woman?" + +"The woman who has our brat." + +Like lightning a sudden joy filled Scraggy's heart. Her benumbed love +for Lem Crabbe grew mighty in a moment and rushed over her. His words +were softly spoken with an old-time inflection. She sank down with a +cry. She was so near him that the cat rose and spat venomously. Lem's +curses brought Scraggy out of her dreams. + +"Chuck that damn cat to the bank," ordered Lem, "if ye want to stay with +me! Do ye hear? Chuck him out!" + +"Nope, I ain't a goin' to! I'm goin' hum." + +"Not till ye tell me where the boy is. Didn't ye throw him in the +river?" + +"Nope." + +"What did ye do with him?" + +"Gived him away." + +"Ye lie! That winder was open, and the river was dark as hell. Ye +throwed him in, I tell ye!" + +"Nope; I gived him to a woman--" + +She stopped and edged toward the stairs, all her old fear of him +returning. Reaching the short flight, she bounded up, the cat clinging +to her sleeve. Lem did not follow; for the crazy woman had frightened +him. He stood with hushed breath, holding grimly to the wooden table. A +voice from the deck of the scow came down to him. + +"I gived him to a rich woman on a yacht. He's rich with mints of money. +Yer kid's a gentleman, Lem Crabbe!" + +He sprang after her to the deck; but nothing greeted him save the cry of +an owl from the ragged rocks and the glistening green of the cat's eyes +as Scraggy hurried away. + + + + +CHAPTER SIX + + +After eating his supper, Lon, sullen and moody, looked out upon the +lake, reviewing in his mind the terrible revenge he was soon to +complete. He took his pipe slowly from his pocket and filled it with +coarse tobacco. Soon gray rings lifted themselves to the ceiling and +faded into the rafters. As the smoke curled upward, his mind became busy +with the past, and so vivid was his imagination that outlined in the +smoke rings that floated about him was a girlish face--a face pale and +wan, but a loving, sweet one to him. He could see the fair curls which +clung close to the head; the eyes, serious but kind, seemed to strike +his memory in unforgotten glances. To another than himself the +smoke-formed face would have been plain, perhaps ugly, the weakness of +her race showing in every feature; but not to him. So intent was he with +these thoughts that the present dissolved completely into the past, and +beside him stood a small, fond woman. In his imagination she had risen +from that grave which he had never been able to find in the Potter's +Field. The personality of his dead wife called upon his senses and made +itself as necessary to him then as in the moment of his first rapture +when she had placed her womanly might upon his soul. + +His revenge upon Floyd Vandecar would be finished when the gray-eyed +Flea, so like her own father, went away with the one-armed man, to eke +out her destiny amid the squalor of the thief's home. + +For months he had been enthralled with the satisfaction of the last act +in the one terrible drama of his life; for it had played with his rude +fancy as a tigress does with her prey, inflaming his hatred and keeping +alive his desire for retaliation. Flukey was a good thief, although +obeying him at the end of the lash, and Flea would receive her portion +of hate's penalty on her fifteenth birthday. + +Cronk did not heed the pitter-patter of his mother's feet as she cleared +the table, nor did he hear the droning of the twin's voices in the loft +above. He was thinking of how the dead woman with her child--his child, +the one small atom he would have loved better than himself--would be +well avenged when Flea went away with Lem. + +Lon had kept track of the doings of the young district attorney. He knew +that he had gone to the gubernatorial chair but the year before. The +squatter smiled gloomily as he remembered the words of a newspaper +friendly to Vandecar, in which he had read that Syracuse was full of +painful memories for the new governor, and that Floyd Vandecar had taken +his family down the Hudson, to make another home at Tarrytown, where +Harold Brimbecomb, a youthful friend, resided. Another expression of +dark gratification flitted over Lon's heavy features as he reviewed +again the purport of the article. It had plainly said that in the new +home there would be fewer visions of a lost boy and girl to haunt the +afflicted parents. Lon realized in his savage heart that the change of +scene would not lessen the grief of the stricken family. It was his one +satisfaction to brood over the bereaved father and mother, delighting in +his part of the tragedy and enjoying every evidence of it. Never for a +moment did he think gently of the children, but only of the woman +sacrificed. On this night she stood so close that, with a groan, he put +out his hand. His flesh tingled; for he felt that he could almost touch +her, and his heart clamored for the warmth of the tender body he had +never forgotten. + +"God!" he moaned between his teeth, "if I could tech her once, jest for +once, I'd let Flea stay to hum!" + +"Did ye speak, Lon?" asked Granny Cronk. + +"Nope; I were only a thinkin'." + +"Have ye changed yer mind 'bout Flea?" + +"Nope, Mammy, and ye keep yer mouth shet if ye want me to stay to hum! +See?" + +Granny Cronk grunted a reply, and passed into the back room. Five +minutes later the rope cot creaked under her weight. + +Wrapped in his somber musings, Lon did not hear Flea approach him until +she was at his elbow. With her coming, the sweet phantom, to which he +grimly held in his moments of solitude, fled back to its unknown grave. +Never had his loved one been so near, so real; never before had she +touched his writhing nature in all its primeval strength. The girl +before him was so like the man who had withstood his agony that he +clenched his fist and rose from his chair. Flea was looking at him in +mute appeal; but before she could speak he had lifted his fist and +brought it down upon the lovely, beseeching face. The blow stunned her; +but only a smothered moan fell from her lips. + +"I hate ye!" growled Lon. "Get back to the loft afore I kill ye!" + +Slowly Flea was regaining her senses, and the squatter's curses struck +her ears like a whiplash. Bitter, scalding tears blinded her as, holding +her thin skirt to her bleeding nose, she stumbled up the ladder. With +anger unappeased, Lon, staggering like one drunken, took his cap from +the peg and went out. + + * * * * * + +When Lon called Flukey, Flea followed her brother into the night, while +he arranged the thief's tools in the boat. There was a dull roar and +rush of the wind, as it tossed the lake into gigantic whitecaps, which +added to the girl's suffering. Her young soul was smarting beneath the +scathing injustice. As she watched Lem and Lon pull away, with Flukey at +the rudder, Flea squatted on the beach, bent her head, and wept long and +wildly. + +A gentle, sympathetic touch of a warm tongue made her put out her arms +and draw Snatchet into them. It comforted her to feel the faithful heart +beating against her own. That Lon disliked to have her and Flukey about +him, she knew; but she had not known until today that he hated her. He +had never before told her so. Flea caught her breath in a gasp, and +turned her eyes to a rift in a rock where the scow lay. Only a dark line +distinguished it in the shadows. At the thought that it was to be forced +upon her for a home, she cried again, and Snatchet, from his haven of +rest, lifted his pointed yellow nose and wailed dismally, striving with +all his dog's soul to assuage her unusual grief. + +The distant sound of a hoot-owl startled Flea from her tears. It was a +familiar sound to her and came as a call from a friend. + +Creeping into the low woodshed, Flea took up a bundle of fagots from the +corner, and, closing the door on Snatchet that he might not follow her, +mounted the hill with the wood under her arm. Once at the top of the +lane, she opened her lips and echoed the hoot. She passed through a +thicket of sumac into a clearing where a number of sheep were huddled +together in the cold night air. An answer came back almost instantly +from the ragged rocks, and, squatting in a hollow, Flea sat patiently +until the branches broke below her. A woman with tangled hair came +creeping cautiously forward. + +"Who be there?" she whispered. + +"It's Flea, Screech Owl. Be the bats a runnin' in yer head?" + +"Yep, child," the woman answered mournfully. "The fagots be given out, +too, and I'm a huntin' of 'em. The night's cold." + +"I was lookin' for ye this afternoon, Screechy," said Flea. "Set down." + +The lean, half-starved woman dropped beside the girl. Flea put out her +hand and smoothed down the rough hair on Scraggy's black cat. The +animal, usually so vicious, purred in delight, rubbing his nose against +the girl's hand. + +"Air the little Flea wantin' the owl to tell her somethin'?" + +"Yep," replied Flea doubtfully. + +"And ye brought yer old Screechy a little present?" + +"Yep." + +"What?" + +"Some fagots to keep ye warm, Screechy." + +"Where be they?" + +"Here by my side." + +"Ye be a good Flea," cackled Screechy. "Be ye in trouble?" + +"Yep. So be Flukey. Can ye tell me anything 'bout Flukey?" + +The woman frowned. "Flukey, Flukey, yer brother," she repeated. "I ain't +a likin' boys, 'cause they throw stones at me." + +"Flukey never throwed no stones at ye, Screechy, an' he's unhappy now. +He'll bring ye a lot more fagots sometime to heat yer bones by." + +"Aye, I'm a needin' heat. My bones be stiff, and my blood's nothin' but +water, and my eyes ain't seein' nothin'." + +"Don't they see things in the dark," asked the girl, superstitiously, +"ghosts and things?" + +"Aye, Flea; and the things I see now I'll tell ye if they be good or +bad--mind ye, good or bad!" + +"Good or bad," repeated Flea. + +At length, after a silence, the girl broke forth. "Air Flukey in yer +eyes, Screechy?" + +"Yep, Flea, and so be you; but there ain't much for ye, savin' that ye +go a long journey lookin' for a good land." + +Bending her head nearer, Flea coaxed, "What good land, Screechy dear?" + +"Yer's and Flukey's, Flea." + +"Where air it?" + +"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch for yer short legs from +the squatter's settlement, and many a day when bread's short and water's +plenty, many a night when the cold'll bite yer legs, and many a tear--" + +"Be we leavin' Pappy Lon?" demanded the girl. + +"Yep." + +"Forever and forever?" + +"For Flukey, yep; but for yerself--" + +Flea stared in speechless wonder and fright. "I don't want to stay +without Flukey!" she cried. + +"I ain't a tellin' ye what ye want to do; only how the shadders run. But +that's a weary day off. The good land be yers and Flukey's for the +seekin' of it." + +"Air Flukey goin' to be catched a thievin'?" + +"Yep, some day." + +"With Pappy Lon?" + +"Nope, with yerself, Flea." + +"I ain't no thief," replied Flea sulkily. "I ain't never took nothin', +not so much as a chicken! And Flukey wouldn't nuther if Pappy Lon didn't +make him." + +From behind Screech Owl's shrouding gray hair two black eyes glittered. + +"The good land, the good land!" whispered the madwoman. "It be all +comin' for yerself and Flukey." + +[Illustration: "AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?"] + +"Be I goin' to--" Flea sat back on her bare toes, her face suddenly +darkening with rage. "I won't go with him! I won't, Screechy, if he was +in every old eye in yer head! I won't, so there!" + +The darkness hid from Screech Owl the glint in Flea's eyes. + +"Who be it Lon said you was goin' with, Flea?" + +Scraggy must have forgotten her conversation with Lem but an hour or two +before; for she evinced no knowledge of any man interested in Flea. + +"A one-armed man. Pappy says I'm to be his woman. Be I, Screechy?" + +"Nope; but I see a hook a whirlin' in the air into the good land, a +whirlin' and a whirlin' after ye. I see it a stealin' on ye in the night +when ye think ye're safe. I see the sharp p'int of it a stickin' into +yer soft flesh--" + +"Don't, don't!" pleaded Flea in a smothered voice. "Ye said as how I +were goin' with Flukey to a good land down behind the college hill." + +"So ye be," assented the Owl; "but after ye get to the good land the +sharp p'int of the hook'll come and rip at ye. I see it a haulin' ye +back away from them what ye loves--" + +Flea grasped the woman's arm between her fingers and pressed nearer +Scraggy with a startled cry. The cat, hissing, lashed a bushy tail from +side to side. His eyes flashed green, and a cry came from Flea's lips. +In another instant she was speeding away down the rocks. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + + +At three o'clock the next morning a boat left the lighthouse at the head +of Cayuga Lake and was rowed toward the western shores. As before, two +men and a boy were in it. The lad was still at the rudder, while the men +swiftly cut the water stroke by stroke. For three miles down the lake no +one spoke; but when the boat scraped the shore in front of his hut Lon +broke the silence. + +"It weren't a bad haul tonight, were it, Lem?" he said almost jovially. +"And tomorry ye come up to the shanty for the dividin'. Ye know I +wouldn't cheat a hair o' yer head, don't ye, Lem?" + +"Yep, ye bet I know it! And I'm that happy 'cause I'm to take yer gal a +Saturday that I could give ye the hull haul tonight, Lon." + +"Ye needn't do that, Lem. I give ye Flea 'cause I want ye to have her, +and I know that you'll make her stand round and mind ye, and if she +don't--" + +"Then I'll make her!" put in Lem darkly. "She'll give back no more bites +for my kisses when I get her! I had a woman a long time ago, and when +she didn't mind me I beat her, and beat her and beat her hard! That's +the way to do with women folks!" + +"Ye had Scraggy, didn't ye, Lem?" asked Lon, heaping his arm with his +clothing. + +Flukey stood silently by, his pale face ghastly in the thin, yellow +moonlight. + +"Yep; but Scraggy wasn't no good. I didn't like her. I do like Flea, +and I'd stick to her, too. I'd marry her if ye'd say the word." + +"Nope, I ain't a askin' ye to marry her. Yer jest make her stand around, +and break her spirit if ye can. Flea ain't like Flukey; she's hard to +beat a thing out of." + +"I know how to handle her!" answered Lem. The silent laughter in his +throat ended in a grunt. He slung a small basket over the hook and went +off up the rocks to his scow. + +"Ye can go to bed, Flukey," said Lon. "Ye've done a good night's +work--and mind ye it ain't wicked to take what ye want from them havin' +plenty." + +Lon hesitated before proceeding. "And, Flukey, if ye know what's good +for Flea, don't be settin' her up ag'in' my wishes, 'cause if she don't +do what I tell her it'll be the worse for her!... Scoot to bed!" + +The boy stood for a moment, opened his lips to plead with the big, +sullen squatter for his sister; but, changing his mind, limped off to +the cabin. + + * * * * * + +When the shanty was quiet a girl's figure shrouded in black curls +crawled across the hut floor to the loft ladder. Flea ascended quickly; +but halted at the top to catch her breath. She could hear from the other +side of the partition the sound of Lon's heavy snores, and from the +corner came the lighter breathing of her brother. Through the small loft +window the moonbeams shone, and by them Flea could see the boy's dark +head and strong young arm under the masses of thick hair. + +She began to crawl toward the cot, wriggling like a huge worm across the +bare boards. Several times she paused, trying to suppress her frightened +heartbeats. Then, lifting her hand, she placed it over Flukey's mouth +and whispered: + +"Fluke, Fluke, wake up! It's Flea!" + +Flukey made no movement to dislodge his tightly pressed lips from the +trembling fingers. The gray eyes flashed open; but the lad lay perfectly +still. + +"Fluke," breathed Flea, "I'm goin' to the cave. Slip on yer pants, and +don't wake Granny Cronk nor Pappy Lon!" + +If it had not been that the boy pressed his fingers on the blanket, Flea +would have wondered if her brother had heard. + +The lithe form had crept back to the ladder and had disappeared before +Flukey slipped quietly from his bed and drew on the blue-jeans overalls. +As he stole through the kitchen, he could hear the snorts of Granny +Cronk coming from the back room. The outside door stood partly open, and +without hesitation he passed through and closed it after him that the +wind might not slam it. Then he limped along under the shore trees, up a +little hill, and dropped out of sight into an open cavern, where Flea, a +candle in her hand, sat in semidarkness. + +The cave had been the children's playground ever since they could +remember. Here they had come to weep over indignities heaped upon them +in childhood; here they had come in joy and in sorrow, and now, in +secret conclave in the early hours of the morning, they had come again. + +"Ye're here!" said Flea in feverish haste. "I feared ye'd go to sleep +again." + +"Nope; I allers come when ye want me, Flea." + +"Did ye steal tonight?" + +"Yep." + +"What did ye get?" + +The boy shuddered, and a strange, hunted expression came into his eyes. +"Spoons, knives, clothes, and things," said he; "and I'd ruther be tore +to pieces by wild bulls than ever steal again!" + +His voice was toned with an unnatural ring. Wonderingly, Flea drew +closer to him, the candle dripping white, round drops hot on the brown +hand. + +"But Pappy Lon says as how ye must steal, don't he?" she asked +presently. + +"Yep, and as how you must go with Lem." + +"I won't, I won't! Pappy Lon can kill me first!" + +She said this in passionate anger; but, upon holding the candle close to +Flukey's face, she exclaimed: + +"Fluke, don't look like that--it scares me!" + +He was piercing the dark ends of the cave, his eyes colored like steel. +They were softened only by shots of brown, which ran like chain +lightning through them. The girl's gaze followed her brother's timidly; +for he looked ahead, as if he saw something that threatened her and him. +In spite of her soft touch, the boy looked on and on in his unyielding +fierceness at the fast approaching inevitable, which he had not been +able to stem. That day a change had been ordered in their lives, and it +had come upon him in the shape of a mental blow that hurt him far worse +than if Pappy Lon had flogged him throughout the night. + +"If Pappy Lon sends me next Saturday to Lem," Flea ventured in an +undertone, "then ye can't help me much, can ye, Fluke?" + +The muscles of the boy's face relaxed, and he drew his knee up to his +chest. "When my leg ain't lame I'm strong enough to lick Lem, if--if--" + +"Nope; I ain't no notion for ye to lick him yet, Fluke. Do ye believe in +the sayin's of Screech Owl?" + +"Ye mean--" + +"Do ye believe what she says when the bats be a flyin' round in her +head, and when she sees the good land for you and myself, Flukey?" + +"Did she say somethin' 'bout a good land for us, Flea?" + +"Yep." + +"Where's the good land?" + +"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch from here--and, Flukey, I +ain't a goin' to Lena's, and ye ain't likin' to be a thief. Will ye come +and find the good land with me?" + +"Girls can't run away like boys can. They ain't able to bear hurt." + +Flea dropped her head with a blush of shame. She knew well that Flukey +could perform wonderful feats which she had been unable to do. Grandma'm +Cronk had told her that her dresses made the difference between her +ability and Flukey's. With this impediment removed, she could turn her +face toward the shining land predicted by Scraggy for Flukey and +herself; she could follow her brother over hills and into valleys, until +at last-- + +"I could wear a pair of yer pants and be a boy, too, and you could chop +off my hair," she exclaimed. "All I want ye to do is to grow to be a man +quick, and to lick Lem Crabbe if he comes after me. Will ye? Screechy +says he's goin' to follow me." + +"I'll lick him anywhere," cried the boy, his tears rising; "and if ye +has to go to him, and he as much as lays a finger on ye, I'll kill him!" + +His face was so rigidly drawn during his last threat that he hissed the +words out through his teeth. + +"Then ye'd get yer neck stretched," argued Flea, "and I ain't a goin' to +him. We be goin' away to the good land down behind the college hill." + +"When?" demanded Flukey. + +"Tonight," replied Flea. "Ye go and get some duds for me,--a shirt and +the other pair of yer jeans. Crib Granny's shears to cut my hair off. +Then we'll start. See? And we ain't never comin' back. Pappy Lon hates +me, and he's licked ye all he's goin' to. Git along and crib the duds!" + +She rose to her feet, nervously breaking away the little rivers of +grease that had hardened upon her hand and wrist. + +"Ye've got to get into the hut in the dark," she said, "and then ye +stand at the mouth of the cave while I put on the things." + +"How be we goin' to live when we go?" asked Flukey dully, making no move +to obey her. + +"We'll live in the good land where there be lots of bread and 'lasses," +she soothed; "the two dips in the dish at one time--jest think of that, +ole skate!" + +He tried to smile at her forced jocularity; but the hunted expression +saddened his eyes again. To these children, brought up animal-like in +the midst of misery and hate, their world revolved round their stomachs, +too often empty. But this new trouble--the terror of Flea's going with +Lem--had made a man of Flukey, and bread and molasses sank into +oblivion. He was ready to shield her from the thief with his life. + +"Get along!" ordered Flea. + +Instead of obeying, the boy sat down on a rounded stone. "I'd a runned +away along ago, if it hadn't been, for you, Flea." + +"I know that you love me," said the girl brokenly; "I know that, all +right!" + +"I couldn't have stood Pappy Lon nor Lem nor none of the rest," groaned +Flukey, "and I was to tell ye tonight to let me go, and I would come +back for ye; but if ye be made to go with Lem--" + +"That makes ye take me with you," gasped Flea eagerly. "Huh?" + +"Yep, that makes me take ye with me, Flea; but if we go mebbe sometimes +we have to go without no bread." + +There was warning in his tones; for he had heard stories of other lads +who had left the settlement and had returned home lank, pale, and +hungry. + +"I've been out o' bread here," encouraged Flea. "Granny's put me to bed +many a time, and no supper. Get along, will ye?" + +"Yep, I'm goin'; but I can't leave Snatchet. We can take my dorg, Flea. +Where's he gone?" + +"We'll take him," promised Flea. "He's in the wood-house. Scoot and get +the duds and him!" + +The boy toiled up the rocks to the top of the cave, and Flea heard his +departing steps for a moment, then seated herself in tremulous fear. + +Flukey pushed open the cabin door, listened a moment, and stepped in. No +sound save of loud breathing came from the back room where the old woman +slept. At the top of the ladder he could hear Lon snoring loudly. Flukey +crawled upon his knees to a small box against the wall. He pulled out a +pair of brown overalls and a blue shirt, and with great caution crept +back. Almost before Flea realized that he had gone, he was in the cave +again with Snatchet in his arms, displaying his plunder. + +"Put 'em on quick!" ordered Flukey. "Here, hold still!" As he spoke, he +gathered Flea's black curls into his fingers and cut them off boylike to +her head. "If Pappy Lon catches us," he went on, "he'll knock hell out +of us both." + +The girl, having surrendered her spirit of command, crawled into the +trousers and donned the blue shirt. After extinguishing the candle, +which Flukey slipped into his pocket, they clambered out of the cave, +leaving the rocky floor strewn with locks of hair, and stole softly +along the shore toward the college hill. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + + +Horace Shellington, newly fledged attorney and counsellor-at-law, sat in +his luxurious library, his feet cocked upon the desk in true bachelor +fashion. He was apparently deep in thought, his handsome head resting +against the back of the chair, when his meditations were broken by a +knock at the door. + +"Come in. Is it you, Sis?" he said. + +"Yes, Dear," was the answer as the girl entered. "Everett wants us to go +in his party to the Dryden fair. Would you like to?" + +Horace glanced up quizzically and smiled as the blush mounted to her +fair hair. "The question, Ann dear, rests with you." + +"I never tire being with Everett," Ann said slowly. + +"That's because you're in love with him, Sis. When a girl is in love she +always wants to be with the lucky chap." + +"And doesn't he want to be with her?" demanded Ann eagerly. + +"Of course. And, Ann, I shouldn't ask for a better fellow than Everett +is, only that I don't want you to leave me right away. Without you, +Dear, I think I should die of the blue devils!" + +"Do you want me to stay at home until you, too, get ready to marry?" Ann +asked laughingly. "I'm afraid I should never have a chance to help +Everett make a home if you did; for you simply won't like any of the +girls I know." + +"I want to get well started in my profession before I think of +marrying. I am happy over the fact that I have been able to enter +Vandecar's law office. He's the strongest man in the state in his line, +and it means New York for me some day. Vandecar is even more powerful +than Brimbecomb." + +"I'm glad for you, Horace, because it seems to me that you have an +opportunity that few men have. Nothing can ever keep you back! And you +are so very young, Dear!" + +"No, nothing can keep me back now, Ann. Sit down, do." + +"Not now, Dear; I'll run away from you, and tell Everett that you will +go to Dryden with us--and I do hope that the weather will be fine!" + +Ann tripped out, her heart light with contentment. Her star of happiness +had reached its zenith when Everett Brimbecomb had asked her to be his +wife. Rich in her own right, of the bluest blood in the state, soon to +marry the man who had been her ideal since their childhood days, why +should she not be happy? + +After leaving Horace, Ann went to the side window and tapped upon it. +Receiving no response, she lifted the sash and called softly to her +fiance. Hearing her voice, Everett Brimbecomb appeared at the opposite +window. The girl's heart thrilled with happiness as he smiled upon her. + +"Run over a minute, Everett," she called. + +"All right, dear heart." + +His voice was so vibrantly low and rich that the girl experienced a +feeling of thanksgiving as she stood waiting for him at the door. When +he came, the lovers went into the drawing-room, where a grate fire +burned dim. + +"Horace says he'll go to Dryden, Everett," Ann announced, "and I'm so +glad! I thought he might say that he was too busy." + +Everett smiled, slipped his arm about the girl's waist, and for a moment +she leaned against him like a frail, sweet flower. + +Presently Ann noticed that a shadow had settled on her lover's face. +Womanlike, she questioned him. + +"Is there anything the matter, Dear?" she asked, drawing him to the +divan. + +"Nothing serious. I've been talking with Father." + +"Yes?" + +She waited for him to continue; but he sat silent, wrapped in thought +for a long minute. At last, however, he spoke gloomily: + +"Ann, I wish I knew who my own people were." + +"Aren't you satisfied with those you have, Everett?" There was sweet +reproof in the girl's tones. + +"More than satisfied," he said; "but somehow I feel--no I won't say it, +Ann. It would seem caddish to you." + +"Nothing you could say to me would seem that," she answered. + +Everett rose and walked up and down the room. "Well, it seems to me +that, although the blood of the Brimbecomb's is blue, mine is bluer +still; that, while they have many famous ancestors, I have still more +illustrious ones. I feel sometimes a longing to run wild and do +unheard-of things, and to make men know my strength, to--well, to +virtually turn the world upside down." + +A frightened look leaped into the girl's eyes. He was so vehement, so +passionate, so powerful, that at times she felt how inferior in +temperment she was to him. Her heart swelled with gratitude when she +realized that he belonged to her and to her alone. How good God had +been! And every day in the solitude of her chamber she had thanked the +Giver of every gift for this perfect man--since he was perfect to her. +In a few moments she rose and walked beside him, longing to enter into +the hidden ambitions of his heart, to read his innermost thoughts. +Everett appreciated her feeling. Again he passed his arm around her, and +for a time they paced to and fro, each thankful for the love that had +become the chief thing in life. + +"I have an idea, Ann," began Everett presently, "that my mother will +know me by the scar on me here." He raised his fingers to his shoulder +and drew them slowly downward as he continued. "And I know that she is +some wild, beautiful thing different from any other woman living. And +I've pictured my father in my mind's eyes a million times, since I have +found out I am not really Everett Brimbecomb." + +"But Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb have done everything for you--" + +"So they have," broke in Everett; "but a chap wants to know his own +flesh and blood, and, since Mother told me that I was not her own son, +I've looked into the face of every woman I've seen and wondered if my +own mother was like her. I don't want to seem ungrateful; but if they +would only tell me more I could rest easier." A painful pucker settled +between his brows. + +"Sit down here, Everett," Ann urged, "and tell me if you have ever tried +to find them." + +"I asked my fath--Mr. Brimbecomb today." His faltering words and the +change of appellation shocked Ann; but she did not chide him, for he was +speaking again. "I told him that, now I was through college and had been +admitted to the bar, I insisted upon knowing who my own people were. But +he said that I must ask his wife; that she knew, and would tell me, if +she desired me to know. I promised him long ago that I would register in +his law office at the same time that Horace went to Vandecar's. Confound +it, Ann!--I beg your pardon, but I feel as if I had been created for +something more than to drone over petty cases in a law office." + +"But, Everett, it has been understood ever since you went to Cornell +that you should enter Mr. Brimbecomb's office. You would not fail him +now that he is so dependent upon you?" + +"Of course not; I intend to work with him. But I tell you this, Ann, +that I am determined to find my own people at whatever cost!" + +"Did you ask Mrs. Brimbecomb about them?" + +"Yes; but she cried so that I stopped--and so it goes! Well, Dear, I +don't want to worry you. It only makes a little more work for me, that's +all. But, when I do find them, I shall be the proudest man in all the +world." + +Ann rose to her feet hastily. "Here comes Horace! Let's talk over the +fair--and now, Dear, I must kiss away those naughty lines between your +eyes this moment. I don't want my boy to feel sad." + +She kissed him tenderly, and turned to meet her brother. + +"I was tired of staying in there alone," said Horace. "Hello, Everett! +It was nice of you, old chap, to ask me along to Dryden. That's my one +failing in the fall--I always go. Let me see--you didn't go last year, +did you, Everett?" + +"No; but I knew that Ann wanted to go this year, and I thought a party +would be pleasant. I asked Katherine Vandecar; but her aunt is such an +invalid that Katherine can scarcely ever leave her." + +"Mrs. Vandecar is ill," said Ann. "I called there yesterday, and she is +the frailest looking woman I ever saw." + +"She's never got over the loss of her children," rejoined Everett. "It's +hard on Vandecar, too, to have her ill. He looks ten years older than he +is." + +"Yes; but their little Mildred is such a comfort to them both!" +interjected Ann. "They watch the child like hawks. I suppose it's only +natural after their awful experience. Isn't it strange that two children +could disappear from the face of the earth and not a word be heard from +them in all these years?" + +"They're probably dead," replied Horace gently, and silence fell upon +them. + + + + +CHAPTER NINE + + +Flea and Flukey Cronk, followed by the yellow dog, made their way +farther and farther from Ithaca. They had left the university in the +distance, when a dim streak of light warned them that day was +approaching. It was here that Flea lagged behind her brother. + +"Ye're tired, Flea," said Flukey. + +"Yep." + +"Will ye crawl into a haystack if we come to one?" + +"Yep." + +They spoke no more until, farther on, a farmhouse, with dark barns in +the rear, loomed up before them. + +"Ye wait here, Flea," said Flukey, "till I see where we can sleep." + +After an absence of a few minutes he returned and in silence conducted +the girl by a roundabout way to a newly piled stack of hay. + +"I burried a place for us both," he whispered. "Ye crawl in first, Flea, +and I'll bring in Snatchet. Lift yer leg up high and ye'll find the +hole." + +A minute later they were tucked away from the cold morning, their small +faces overshadowed by the new-mown hay, and here, through the morning +hours, they slept soundly. Then again they set forth, and it was late in +the afternoon when they drew up before the high fence encircling the +fair-grounds at Dryden. The fall fair was in full blast. Crowds were +passing in and out of the several gates. With longing heart, first Flea, +then Flukey, placed an eye to a knothole, to watch the proceedings +inside. Rows of sleek cattle waved their blue and red ribbons jauntily +in the breeze; fat pigs, with the owners' names pasted on the cards in +front, grunted in small pens. For a time the twins stood side by side, +wishing with all their might that they were possessed of the necessary +entrance-fee. + +"If I could get a job," said Flukey, "we could get in." + +"I could work, too," said Flea, her hands dug deep in her trousers +pockets. + +Just then a man hailed them. "Want to get in, Kids?" he asked. + +"Yep!" bawled Flea and Flukey in unison, their hunger forgotten in this +new delight. + +"Then help me carry in those boards, and then you can stay in." + +Flukey looked apprehensively at Flea. + +"Ye ain't a boy--" + +"Shet up!" snapped Flea. "My pants're as long as your'n, and I be a boy +till we get to the good land. Heave a board on my shoulder, Fluke." + +They slid through the opening in the fence made to pass in the lumber, +and for ten minutes aided their new friend by carrying plank after plank +into the fair-grounds. When the work was done they stood awe-stricken, +looking at the gorgeous surroundings. Flags waved aloft on each +building; yards of bunting roped in exhibits of all kinds. Everywhere +persons were walking to and fro. But still the squatter children stood +motionless and stared with wide-open eyes at such an array of good +things as had never before gladdened their sight. Then, after the +strangeness had somewhat worn off, they wandered on, bewildered. +Snatchet was hugged tight in Flukey's arms; for other dogs laid back +their ears and growled at the yellow cur. + +[Illustration: "THEN THEY COMED AN' TOOK ME AWAY FOR STEALIN'."] + +Suddenly they came upon the athletic field. Here, reared high in the +air, was a slender greased pole, on the top of which fluttered a +five-dollar bill. Several youngsters, dressed in bathing suits, awaited +the hour when they should be allowed to try and win the money. One after +another they took their turn, and when an extra spurt up the pole was +made by some lucky boy the crowd evinced its delight by loud cheers. +Time and again the breeze fluttered the coveted money, and yet no boy +had won the prize. + +"I'd like to try it," said Flukey. + +"If we couldn't get it with bathing suits, you couldn't climb that pole +with them long pants," retorted one of the contestants who stood near. +"Look! that kid's goin' to get it, after all!" There was disappointment +in the tones; but the words had no sooner died away than the climber +slipped to the ground. + +Flea pinched Flukey's arm. "Be yer knee so twisted that ye can't try, +Flukey?" + +"Nope, my rheumatiz ain't hurtin' me now." + +"Then shinny up it, Fluke--ye can climb it! Get along there!" + +She took the dog from his arms, and the boy went forward when the call +came for another aspirant. + +"I'm goin' to get that there bill!" said Flukey, shutting his teeth +firmly. + +He advanced and spoke in an undertone to a man, who, with a grin, +shouted out the name, "Mr. F. Cronk." + +The dignity of the prefix made Flukey spit upon his hands before he +started to climb the pole. Flea came closer and stood almost breathless. +Her parted lips showed small, even, white teeth, her eyes glistened, and +flashes of red blood crimsoned her face. One suspender slipping from her +shoulder, the vicious dog in her arms, the beautiful upturned face, was +as interesting a spectacle as the onlookers had ever seen. It was with +breathless interest that she watched her brother laboriously ascend the +pole. + +Flukey was indeed making a masterful climb. But at last he halted; and +then, a moment later, he climbed desperately. The girl on the ground saw +him falter, and knew that he was becoming faint-hearted. To encourage +him, she lifted a voice broken by emotion and shouted: + +"Go it, Fluke, go it!... Aw! damn it, he slid!... Go it, ole feller! Git +there, git there! Ye're almost there, Fluke--git it! It's a dinner--it's +a bone for Snatchet, and we'll eat!... Damn it! he slid again!... Aw! +hell!" + +Flukey gained the space he had lost in his last slide. Halfway up, he +began again, the men cheering and the women waving handkerchiefs. But +the boy had heard only the words from the little figure under the pole. +The five dollars did mean a good dinner, and a bone for lean Snatchet. +Up, up, and still up, until his fingers grasped the pole very near the +top. + +There he rested for breath. For a few seconds his head drooped on his +shoulders, and absolute quiet reigned below. His slender legs encircled +the pole, and finally, with a painful effort, he lifted out the pin +stuck in the bill, grasped the money in his fingers, and instantly slid +to the ground. Laughs and cheers roared into the air. Flea had backed +away from the pole, still holding the small dog; but, before she could +get to Flukey, other boys were surrounding him, asking how he had done +it. + + * * * * * + +A sudden shouting came from hundreds of throats. One voice raised above +the clamor: + +"Anyone catching the greased pig, Squeaky, can have him. He's a fine +roaster! After him, Boys!" + +Over a knoll, his tiny nose swaying in the air, and four short legs +kicking the dust into clouds, skurried a small pig, coated from head to +tail with lard. Deftly he slipped for his life through many youthful +hands stretched out to grasp him, and time and again he wriggled from +under a small boy crouched to stop his progress. He passed the +danger-mark, and in the new stretch of ground, where the spectators were +standing, discerned a chance to escape. + +Flea saw him coming and could detect the terror in the flying little +beast. Her heart leaped up in answer to the call from something in +distress--something she loved, loved because it lived and suffered +through terrible fear. She dropped Snatchet and caught the greased pig +in her arms. She hugged him up to her breast and, turning flashing eyes +upon the people staring at her, said: + +"Poor little baby piggy! He's scared almost to death." + +"You've caught the greased pig!" somebody shouted. "You can have +him--he's yours!" + +"Ye mean mine to keep?" Flea demanded of the man who had cheered on the +boys. + +"Yes, to keep," was the reply, "and this five-dollar gold-piece because +you caught him." + +"I didn't try to catch him," she said simply. "He jest comed to me +'cause he were so afeard. His little heart's a beatin' like as if he's +goin' to die. I'll keep him, and I thank ye for the money.... Golly! but +ain't me and Flukey two rich kids? Where's Fluke?" + +Just then somebody stepped up behind the girl and touched her on the +arm. Flea turned her head and found herself gazing into the kindly eyes +and earnest face of her prince. + +Instantly she lost all thought of her brother and Snatchet. The voice +she had dreamed of was speaking. + +"Little boy," it said, "I've purchased every year the greased pig of the +youngster who caught him. May I buy him of you? I'll give you another +gold-piece for him." + +Words stuck in Flea's throat, and she only clung closer to the suckling. +At last she murmured, "What do ye want with him?" + +The man threw back his head and laughed. "Why, to eat him, of course. We +always have roast pig for dinner the day after the fair." + +Flea dug her toe into the dust and flung up a cloud of it, as her face +drew into a sulky frown. "Well," she drawled, "ye don't hog down this +'un! He's mine!" + +"But the money, Boy! Don't you want the money?" + +Her heart was beating so fast that she dared not lift her eyes again to +his. Then a lady spoke in a soft voice, and Flea glanced at her. + +"This is Mr. Horace Shellington," she said, "and if he did not have the +pig he would be disappointed. You'll let him buy it, won't you?" + +Flea looked into the questioning face of her prince, the face of her +dreams, looked again into his smiling eyes, and stood hesitant. Her +thoughts flew fast. She remembered the terrified pig, how she had pitied +him, and how much he wanted to live, to frisk in the sunshine. She +thought of the cruel knife that would reach the tiny heart tapping +against her own, and threw back her head in defiance. + +"Ye may have e't all the greased pigs in this here country," she said to +Shellington; "but ye don't eat this 'un! Ye see, this 'un's mine, and +he's goin' to live, eat, and be happy, that's all!" Although she had +spoken emphatically, her eyes dropped again before the keen gaze bent +upon her. To relieve her embarrassment, she turned and shouted, "Flukey, +Flukey, come along! Where's Snatchet?" + +So great had been Flea's excitement at the catching of the pig that she +had given no heed to the dog. Flukey had handed the little fellow to +her, and she had let him go. + +Suddenly an appalling spectacle rose before her. On an elevated spot, a +few feet from the greased pole, Snatchet stood poised in view of +hundreds of curious eyes. His short stubby tail had straightened out +like a stick. His nose was lowered almost to the ground. Each yellow +hair on his scarred back had risen separate and apart from one another, +while his beady eyes glistened greedily. Directly in front of him, +staring back with feathers ruffled and drooping wings, was a little +brown hen, escaped from her coop. She was eying Snatchet impudently, +daring him to approach her by perking her wee head saucily first on one +side and then on the other. Snatchet, pressed on by hunger beating at +his lean sides, slid rigidly a pace nearer. A cry went up from a +childish voice. + +"He'll kill my Queen Bess! Father--Oh! Father!" + +Flukey's voice, calling to his dog, rose high above the clamor. Suddenly +the little hen turned tail and flew across over the soft earth, uttering +frightened cackles; but her flight was slow compared to Snatchet's. He +came scurrying behind her, snapping a tail feather loose with each +onward bound, utterly oblivious of the two strong voices calling his +name. + +The little hen wove a precarious path through coops of chattering +chickens, and Snatchet, bent upon his prey, added to the din. He had no +way of knowing the twists and turns to be taken by his small brown +victim, and it was only by making sharp corners that Queen Bess kept +clear of the snapping teeth. Men were running to and fro for something +to beat off the yellow invader. The girl's voice had settled to a cry, +and, just as Flukey, panting and tired, reached the dog, Snatchet +snapped up the hen, shook her fiercely, and settled down to his meal. In +an instant Flukey had dragged the beating body from his teeth, kicked +him soundly with his bare foot, and held out the dead hen to a man whose +face was darkened by anger. The young mistress of the feathered queen +was clinging, sobbing, to his hand. + +"Is that your dog?" Flea heard the man ask, pointing to Snatchet under +the squatter boy's arm. + +"Yep." + +"Do you understand that he killed my little girl's prize hen?" + +"The dog ought to die, too!" cried a voice from the people. + +Her brother's sorrowful attitude made Flea press Flukey's arm +soothingly. + +"So he ought to die!" said another. + +"He were hungry," explained Flukey, turning on Snatchet's accuser. +"Mister, if ye'll let my dorg live--" + +Before he could finish the child had interrupted him. "That dog ought to +die for killing my Bess!" + +Flea pushed past Flukey and stood before the little girl. "Kid, I don't +blame ye for cryin' for yer hen," she began; "but my brother ain't got +no dog but Snatchet, an' if ye'll let him live I'll give ye this bit of +gold I got for catchin' the pig." + +A murmur followed her words, and the tears dried in the blue eyes +looking up at her. + +"Here little 'un, chuck it in yer pocket," said Flea, straightening her +shoulders, "and it'll buy another hen." + +So the jury which had sat for a moment upon the precious life of +Snatchet brought in a verdict of "not guilty," and the squatter children +turned to find something to eat for the quartet of empty stomachs. Out +of sight of Dryden, they sat down beside the road, and Flea looked the +pig over. + +"Ye has to tie a piece of cord to his leg, Kid," cautioned Flukey; +"'cause he'll get away if ye don't. Ain't he fine?" + +"The finest pig in this here world," responded Flea. "Ye ain't got no +rag what'll wipe off some of this grease, have ye, Fluke?" + +"Nope; but ye can scrape it off with a stick or a rock. Here, ye hold +him tight while I dig at him." + +For about twenty minutes they busied themselves with cleaning the +suckling, laughing at his wriggles and squeaks. + +"What'll we call him?" asked Flea. + +"Squeaky," said Flukey, "that's what the man called out." + +"Aw, that ain't nice enough for me! I'll call him Prince, and ye call +him Squeaky--Prince Squeaky," she ended, knotting the cord Flukey had +given her about the short hind leg of the animal. + +"And we be rich," she declared later, "'most five dollars, a pig, and +Snatchet, and yer leg's well. It don't hurt a bit, do it?" + +"Nope, not now; but when I were at the top of that pole I got a damn +good twist. It's better now." + +"Then let's mog along," said Flea, "'cause we can eat all we want, now +we got money." + + + + +CHAPTER TEN + + +For two weeks Flea and Flukey lived on the fat of the land. The country +afforded them haystacks, and the brooks, clear water. The children were +never happier than when Squeaky's nose was hidden in a tin can of +buttermilk, and the precious five dollars bought countless numbers of +currant buns, sugar cakes, and penny bones for Snatchet. Now Flukey +lifted his head proudly and walked with the air of a boy on the road to +fortune, and Flea kept at his side with the prince hugged close in her +arms. Through the long stretch of houseless roads Snatchet was allowed +to rove at will, and Flukey relieved his sister of her burden. By the +third day out toward the promised land the two little animals had become +firm friends, and the queer quartet walked on and on, as straight as the +crow flies, through the valleys and over the hills, wading the creeks +and ferrying the rivers, until they awoke one morning without money or +breakfast. The warm hay at night, much sunshine, and the absence of rain +had reduced the swollen joint in Flukey's knee to normal size; but that +day, as they trudged along, Flea noticed that he limped more than at any +time during their journey from Tompkins County. Even now, with hunger +staring wolf-eyed at them, there was no desire to return to Ithaca, no +thought of renewing their life in the squatter's settlement; for, +unknown to themselves, they were being swept on by a common destiny. + +"Ye're gettin' lame again," said Flea after awhile, the mother-feeling +in her making her watch Flukey with concern. "Last night a-laying' in +the field didn't do ye any good. Let me lug Prince Squeaky." + +Without remonstrance, the boy surrendered the wriggling burden, and they +started out once more. + +"I wish we could find a nice, warm haystack," Flea commented; "it'd warm +up yer bones. Will we get to one, Fluke, after awhile?" + +"Nope, 'cause we're comin' to a big city." + +As he spoke, he motioned to where Tarrytown lay on the banks of the +Hudson River, several miles distant. Then they were silent a time; for +each young life was busy with the tragedy of living. Just what they +would do for a place to sleep Flea could not tell, since under the +compact made in the rock-cavern they would steal no more. + +In the gathering twilight the two came upon the cemetery of Sleepy +Hollow, and here, tired, hungry, and despondent, they sat down to rest. + +"It's gettin' night," said Flukey drearily. "I wonder where we'll +sleep?" + +"Can't we squirm in this dead man's yard 'thout nobody seein' us?" asked +Flea, casting her eyes over the graves. "Ye can't walk no more tonight. +I ain't hungry, anyhow." + +"Ye lie, Flea!" moaned Flukey. "Yer belly's as empty as Squeaky's or +Snatchet's. I've got to get ye somethin' to eat." + +Nevertheless, without resistance, he allowed her to help him through the +large gate, and they struck off into the older part of the cemetery. All +through the night they lay dozing in the presence of the dead, Squeaky +tied by the leg to a tree, and Snatchet snuggled warmly between the two +children. The dawning of day brought Flukey new anguish; for both knees +were swollen, and he groaned as he turned over. + +Flea was up instantly. "Be ye sick?" + +"Only the twist in my legs. I wish it wasn't so cold. If the sun would +only get warm!" + +"We'll get to the good land today, Fluke," soothed Flea, "and ye can eat +all ye want, and sleep with a pile of covers on--as big--as big as that +there vault yonder." + +"But we ain't in the good land yet, Flea," groaned Flukey, "and we're +all hungry. I wish I could 'arn a nickel. If ye didn't love the pig so +much, Flea, we could sell him. He's a growin' thinner and thinner every +minute, and Snatchet be that starvin' he could eat another mut bigger'n +himself." + +The girl made no answer to this, but tucked Squeaky's pink nose under +the blue-shirted arm and sat mute. + +Flukey, encouraged, went on. "Nobody'd buy Snatchet--he's only a poor, +damn, shiverin' cuss." + +"If we selled Prince Squeaky, some'un'd eat him," mourned Flea. "He +ain't goin' to be e't, I says!" + +So forceful were her tones that Flukey offered no more suggestions; but +stared miserably at the sun as it rose up from the east, dispersing the +cold, gray morning fog. Presently Flea stood up and said decisively: + +"We've got to eat. Ye stay here while I hunt for somethin'." + +She darted away before Flukey could remonstrate. For a long time the boy +lay on the damp ground, his face drawn awry with pain, watching the +wagons going back and forth on the road below. The pangs of hunger and +the night of rheumatism had told upon his young strength. His mind went +back to the hut on Cayuga Lake, and he thought of how when their absence +had been discovered Granny Cronk had cried a little, and how Pappy Lon +had cursed and grown more silent than ever. The tender heart of the sick +boy yearned toward the old squatter woman, who had been the only mother +he and Flea had ever known. In his loneliness he stroked Squeaky on the +snout and muttered tender words to the lean dog lying under his lame +leg. After a short time he saw Flea, with a small bundle in her hand, +picking her way among the graves. Flukey lay perfectly quiet until his +sister offered him a bun. + +"I could only buy four, 'cause I only had a nickel." + +"Give Squeaky and Snatchet one, will ye, Flea?" ventured Flukey. + +"Yep. I said, when I buyed 'em, there'd be one apiece." + +"Somethin' has made ye pale, Flea," said Flukey after each of the four +had devoured breakfast. "Ye didn't--" + +"I see Lem Crabbe's scow down by the river." + +Flukey uttered an exclamation and sat up with a groan. "He's comin' +after ye, Kid," he breathed desperately. + +"Nope, he ain't," assured Flea; "he's takin' lumber down to New York. +And he didn't see me. And we'll stay in this here graveyard till he's +gone. He's waitin' for the steam tug to come. I guess he poled from +Albany down when he couldn't use his mules." + +"Were Pappy Lon with him?" asked Flukey, drawing up his knees. + +"I dunno; I didn't wait to see. I had to 'arn this nickel." + +"Ye didn't steal it, Flea?" + +"Nope; I had it give to me for holdin' a horse. Ye believe me, Fluke?" + +"Yep, I believe ye. And ye say as how we can't go on now to the good +land? We has to stay here?" + +"For awhile," replied Flea. "When Lem Crabbe goes to New York, then we +go, too." + + * * * * * + +While hundreds of birds made ready for a long night in the elm trees, +the twins turned silent. Flukey lay with his eyes closed in pain. The +girl broke the quietude now and then by muttering softly the names on +the gravestones over which her eyes roved: + + "EVERETT BRIMBECOMB + ONE YEAR OLD + BELOVED SON OF AGNES AND HAROLD BRIMBECOMB. + RESTING IN JESUS" + +Flea read this over several times, and turned to Flukey. + +"Who's Jesus, Fluke?" she asked. + +The boy raised his head and opened his eyes languidly. "What? What'd ye +say, Flea?" + +"Who's Jesus?" she asked again, pointing to the inscription on the +stone. + +"I dunno. I guess he's some old feller layin' down in there with that +kid." + +Thus the day had passed and the night fell. Flukey dropped into a deep +sleep, and Flea, huddling to the cold earth, settled closer to her +brother in the sheltering darkness. Suddenly the girl aroused as if from +a bad dream. She sat up, feeling for the pig and Snatchet, and placed +her hand on Flukey's quiet body and lay down. Once more came the sound. +It was the faint, distant hoot of an owl, stealing out through the tall +trees. Nearer and nearer it came, until Flea sat bolt upright. Instantly +into her mind shot the picture of a shriveled woman from the squatter +country. A cold perspiration broke over her. + +She turned her head slowly and looked off into the dark end of the +cemetery, over which hung a mist. Through this veil the pale moon +watched the earth with steady gaze. From among the monuments and +time-scarred headstones, looming darkly in the forbidding silence, an +apparition arose, and to Flea's vivid imagination it seemed as if +voiceless gray ghosts were peopling God's Acre on all sides. She +recoiled in horror as the strange, wild cry drew nearer. + +A hysterical sensation burning in her throat tightened it so she could +not speak to Flukey, nor could she drag her eyes from the thing moving +toward her. Snatchet growled; but Flea pressed his jaws together with a +snap, and the sound died in his throat. Squeaky moved slightly among the +dead leaves, then became quiet again. The phantom-like figure passed +almost near enough to touch the rigid girl. Its lips opened, and a +hoarse, owl-like cry aroused the sleepy birds above. + +"It's Screechy!" murmured Flea, dropping back in fear. "She's come +seekin' Flukey and me! The bats be flyin' in her head!" + +Screech Owl, ignorant of the children's proximity, went straight on, +gliding over the graves until she stopped before the stone mansion at +the edge of the graveyard. A light shone from the room, and the woman +stole directly under it. A tall, handsome young man, his gaze centered +thoughtfully upon the dark aspect, stood in the window. Flea saw +Screechy hold out her arms toward him with an appealing gesture. He +lifted his hand suddenly and drew down the shade, and his broad +shoulders were silhouetted against it in sharp, black lines. After that +the breathless girl saw the woman turn and stumble past her without a +sound. + +"The bats left her head the minute that there winder got dark!" gasped +the watcher. Tremblingly she drew closer to Flukey, until sleep +overpowered her. + + * * * * * + +The next day passed slowly, the cold rain lasting until almost +nightfall, and yet the children dared not venture into the town. Flea +fumed and fretted; for the earning of the nickel had whetted her +ambition to earn more. Now she dared not go near the river where work +could be found; but she knew that as soon as the tug appeared Lem +Crabbe would go to New York. Probably by this time the scow was far on +its way down the river. This was the decision at which the squatter +twins arrived after weary hours of waiting. So, when the twilight again +fell over the dead, they rose stiffly from their hiding place and limped +to the road. + +"We'll go back to the graveyard tonight, if this ain't the good land," +murmured Flea. "We'll be safe there from Lem, Fluke." + +"Wish we was rich like we was that fair-day, Flea," replied the boy, +scarcely able to walk. + +"I wish so, too. If we had that yeller gold-piece we coughed up for that +damn brown hen, we'd eat. But I'd ruther have Snatchet, Fluke." + +"I'd ruther have him, too; but we need money--" + +"And when we get it," interrupted Flea, "Snatchet'll have a hunk of +meat, and Prince Squeaky a bucket of buttermilk, and ye'll have liniment +for yer legs, Fluke." + +"Ye'll eat yerself first, Flea," said Flukey. "I saw ye when ye give the +pig a bit of yer biscuit yesterday mornin'." + +"We'll all eat in the good land," replied Flea hopefully. + +By this time they had come to the gateway and turned into the street. +Harold Brimbecomb's beautiful home was brilliantly lighted. It appeared +the same to Flea as on the night before, when she had seen Scraggy make +her melancholy play before it. + +Flea had refrained from speaking of her midnight fright to Flukey; for +he would but tell her that, like all girls, she was afraid, and a slur +from her brother was more than she could bear. + +Flea and Flukey had never been taught to pray, "Lead us not into +temptation." Now, with aching hearts and empty stomachs, they turned in +silence to the richly lighted houses. Flukey dragged himself resolutely +past Brimbecomb's as if he would avoid the desire that suddenly pressed +upon him to ply the trade in which he had been darkly instructed. But he +halted abruptly before the next house, the curtains of which were pulled +up halfway. The long windows reached to the porch floor. Through the +clear glass the children saw a table dressed in all the gorgeousness of +silver and crystal. At the spectacle a clamor for food set up in both +aching stomachs, and the two passed as if by one accord to the porch. As +they peered into the window with longing eyes, Squeaky was held tightly +under Flea's arm; but Snatchet, resting wearily on Flukey's, suddenly +sat up. He, too, had scented something to eat, and thrust in and out a +lean red tongue over pointed, tusky teeth. + +"It's time for me to steal, Flea," whispered Flukey, turning feverish +eyes toward his sister. + +"If you do it, Flukey, I'll do it with ye." + +With no more ado, Flukey's practiced fingers silently slid up the sash. +Two youthful bodies stepped through: the opening. In absolute quiet, +they stood raggedly forlorn, savagely hungry, before the tempting table. +There, was plenty to eat; so without a word the squatter girl placed +Squeaky before a glass dish of salad. His small pink nose buried its tip +from sight, and the food disappeared into the suckling's empty stomach. +Snatchet, squatting on his haunches, snapped up a stuffed bird. Flea +began to eat; but Flukey, now too ill, leaned against the red-papered +wall. + +Just at this critical moment the door opened, and Flea, greatly +frightened, started back to the window. She blinked, brushed a dark curl +from her eyes, and saw her Prince advancing toward her. He saw her, too; +but did not connect her with the bare-footed girl on Cayuga Lake, but +only with the boy who had kept from him the greased pig at the Dryden +fair. He glanced at Squeaky calmly eating the salad and smiled. + +"Bless my soul, Ann!" he said, turning to a lady who had followed him +in, "we have company to dinner, or my name isn't Horace Shellington! Why +didn't you young gentlemen wait, and we should all have been seated +together?" + +There was a whirling in Flukey's head, such as he had never felt before; +but Flea's ashen face brought back his scattered senses. He tried to +lift his arm to throw it about her; but dropped it with a groan. +Realizing the agony that had swept over her dear one, Flea gathered in a +deep breath and took his fevered hand in hers. + +"It weren't him," she cried, lifting her eyes to her questioner and +sullenly moving her head toward the shivering boy at her side. "I e't +yer victuals--he didn't. If one of us goes to jail, I do--see?" + +"Let me think," ruminated Horace, eying her gravely. "Six months is +about the shortest sentence given to a fellow for breaking into a house. +And what about the pig? I see him in the act of theft. Shall he go with +you?" + +"He were hungry, that's why Prince Squeaky stealed," exclaimed Flea, +dropping Flukey's fingers. There was something in the kindly eyes of the +man that forced her forward a step. She thrust out her hand in appealing +anxiety. "We was all hungry," she continued, a dry sob strangling her. +"Flukey nor me nor the pig nor Snatchet ain't e't in a long time. We did +steal; but if I knowed it were yer house--" + +A quizzical expression flashing into Shellington's eyes stopped her +words. + +"You wouldn't have come in?" he queried. + +Flea nodded just as Snatchet jumped to the floor with another plump +bird between his teeth. Flukey staggered to his sister's side. + +"Let me tell ye how it was, Mister," he begged, his eyes bloodshot and +restless. "We be lookin' for a good land where boys don't have to steal, +and when they get sick they get well again." + +Here Flea burst forth impetuously. + +"He has such hellish rheumatiz that he can't set in no dark prison. I +can set weeks among rats and bugs what be in all prisons! I ain't afraid +of nothing what lives!" + +Flukey interrupted her by taking her arm and pushing her back a little. + +"I'm a thief by trade," he said; "but my sister ain't. She ain't never +stole nothin' in all her life, she ain't. Take me, will ye, Mister?" + +"Sister!" murmured the gentleman, turning to Flea. + +If nothing else had been said, the question would have been answered in +the affirmative by the vivid blush that dyed Flea's dark skin. Her +embarrassment brought another exclamation from Flukey. + +"She's a girl, all right! She's only tryin' to save me. She put on my +pants jest to get away from Pappy Lon. I'll go to jail; but don't send +her!" + +He swayed blindly, closing his eyes with a moan. + +"The child is sick, Horace," said Ann. "I think he is very sick." + +"Where did you sleep last night?" Shellington asked this of Flea. + +"Out there," answered the girl, pointing over her shoulder, "down by a +big monument." + +"Horace Shellington," gasped Ann, "they slept in the cemetery!" + +The sharp tone of the girl's voice brought Flukey back to the present. + +"We run away 'cause Pappy Lon were a makin' me steal when I didn't want +to," he explained, clearing his throat, "and he was goin' to make Flea +be Lem's woman. And that's the truth, Mister, and Lem wasn't goin' to +marry her, nuther!" + +He rambled on in a monotone as if too sick for inflection. Flea placed +one arm about his neck. + +"I'm a girl! I'm Flea Cronk!" she confessed brokenly. "And Flukey's +doin' all this for me! And he's so sick! I stealed from yer table--he +didn't! Will ye let him lay in yer barn tonight, if I go up for the +stealin'?" + +Never had Horace Shellington felt so keenly the sorrows of other human +beings as when this girl, in her crude boy clothes, lifted her agonized, +tearless eyes to his. His throat filled. Somehow, his whole soul went +out to her, his being stirred to its depths. He put out one hand to +touch Flea--when voices from the inner room stopped further speech. A +light step, accompanied by a heavier one, approaching the dining-hall, +brought his thoughts together. + +"Ann," he appealed, stepping to his sister's side, "you're always +wanting to do something for me--do it now. Let me settle this!" + +Speaking to Flukey, he said, "Pick up your dog, Boy!" + +"And the pig from the table!" groaned Ann distractedly. + + * * * * * + +Flukey mechanically stooped to obey, while Flea captured Squeaky and +tucked the suckling under her arm just as Shellington opened the door to +admit his guests. When Flea lifted her embarrassed gaze to the +strangers, she saw the same face that had peered at her over Horace's +shoulder at the Dryden fair, the face to which Screech Owl had made her +silent appeal. A graceful girl followed, whose eyes expressed +astonishment as Horace spoke. + +"These are my young friends, you will remember, Everett, from the fair, +Flea and Flukey Cronk." Turning his misty eyes upon the children he +continued, "This is Mr. Brimbecomb, and Miss Katherine Vandecar, +Governor Vandecar's niece." + +He went through this introduction to gain control of his feelings. + +"They have changed their minds, Everett, and have brought me the pig," +he exclaimed. "It was kind of you, child!" + +He had almost said "boy"; but, remembering the admission Flea had made, +he gazed straight at her, watching with growing interest the changes +that passed over the young face. + +"You see," he hurried on nervously, "they found out where I lived, and +thought I might still want the pig--" + +Ann Shellington admonishingly touched her brother's arm. "Horace!" she +urged; but he stopped her with a gesture. + +"I think it mighty nice of them to come all the way from Dryden with a +pig--on my soul, I do, Ann!" + +Taking a silver case from his pocket, he extracted a cigarette from it, +while directing his attention to Flea. + +"I want it now as much as I did then; but I don't believe that I shall +ever roast and eat him." + +Flea searched the speaker's face fearfully, her eyes lustrous with +melting tenderness. He had promised her that Squeaky should live; but +was he going to send Flukey away? It was slow torture, this waiting for +his verdict, each second measured full to the brim, each minute more +agonizing than the last. + +Horace Shellington was speaking again. "You see, Katherine," he said, +turning to the younger girl, "I know this puzzles you; but these two +youngsters won the pig at the fair, and I tried to buy it of them for a +roast. Just at that time this little--chap--" he motioned toward Flea, +"didn't want to part with it. He's changed his mind. You see the pig is +here." + +Miss Shellington did not supplement her brother's statement; but the +tall stranger with the brilliant eyes gazed dubiously at the table and +then down into Flea's face. + +"I'll bet my hat," he said in a tone deep and rich, "that you boys have +been thieving!" + +Before the frightened girl could respond, the master of the house +stepped between them; but not before Flea had caught an expression that +took her back to Screech Owl's hut. + +"For shame, Everett!" chided Horace. "I have just told you that they +were trying to do me a favor. The pig has come a long way, and I gave +him some--salad. There's plenty more in the larder." + +It was hard for Horace Shellington to lie flagrantly, and his +explanation sounded forced. The music in his voice pierced the childish +lethargy of Flea's soul, awakening it to womanhood. Intuition told her +that he had lied for her sake. + +"And you gave him the birds, too?" Everett asked sneeringly, glancing at +the scattered bones. + +"No, I gave the dog the birds," replied Horace simply. "It seemed," he +proceeded slowly, "that just at that moment I felt for the hungry dog +and pig more than I did for my guests." + +He had backed to his sister's side with an imploring glance, and allowed +his hand to rest lightly on hers. She understood his message, and met +his appeal. + +"And now these young people have been so good to us," she said, "we +ought to repay them with a good supper. If you will come with me, Boys, +you shall have what you need.... Oh! Yes, you can bring both the dog and +the pig." + +A tranquil smile, sweet and pathetic, erased the pain-wrinkles from +Flukey's face. Supper at last for his dear ones! + +Ann held out her hand to him, and dazedly the sick lad took it in his +hot fingers. Then, remembering Everett's disapprobation of the boys, she +glanced into his face; but, meeting a studiously indifferent, slightly +bored look, she led Flukey away. + + + + +CHAPTER ELEVEN + + +Flukey was too ill, as he stumbled along, to dread the outcome of their +act of theft. He realized only that a beautiful lady was leading Flea to +a place where her hunger could be satisfied, and, as he felt the warmth +of Ann's fingers permeate his own famished body, a great courage urged +him forward. He would never again steal at Lon's command, and Flea would +have to dread Lem no more! Something infinitely sweet, like new-coming +life, entered his soul. It was the first exquisite joy that had come to +Flukey Cronk. He stopped and disengaged his hand, to press it to his +side as a pain made him gasp for breath. Then of a sudden he sank to the +polished floor, still clinging to Snatchet. + +"Missus," he muttered, "I can't walk no more. Jest ye leave me here and +git the grub for Flea." + +Flea turned sharply. "I don't eat when ye're sick, Fluke. The Prince +says as how ye can sleep in the barn, and mebbe--mebbe he'll let me work +for the victuals Snatchet and Squeaky stole." + +Flea added this hopefully. + +"Children," said Ann in a smothered voice, "listen to me! You're both +welcome to all you've had, and more. The little dog and pig were welcome +too." + +Tears rose under her lids, and she turned her head away, that the twins +might not see them. Ann Shellington, like her brother, had never before +seen human misery depicted in small lives. At the mention of his dog, +Flukey opened his eyes and turned his gaze upward. + +"Thank ye, Lady," said he, "thank ye for what ye said about Snatchet. +Ain't he a pink peach of a dorg, Ma'm?" + +Ann inclined her head gently, glancing dubiously over the yellow pup. +She could not openly admit that Snatchet resembled anything beautiful +she had ever seen, when the boy, his lips twitching with agony, held his +pet up toward her. + +"Ye can take him, Ma'm," groaned Flukey. "He only bites bad 'uns like +Lem Crabbe." + +Snatchet, feeling the importance of the moment, lifted his head and shot +forth a slavering tongue. As it came in contact with her fingers, Miss +Shellington drew back a little. She had been used to slender-limbed, +soft-coated dogs; this small, shivering mongrel, touching her flesh with +a tongue roughly beaded, sent a tremor of disgust over her. Flea stepped +forward, took Snatchet from her brother, and tucked him away under the +arm opposite the one Squeaky occupied. + +"Ye'll go to the barn, Fluke," she said, "and ye'll go damn quick! The +lady'll let ye, and Snatchet'll go with ye. Squeaky sleeps with me." + +Ann coughed embarrassedly. "Children," she began, "we couldn't let the +dog and pig sleep in the house; neither could we allow you to sleep in +the barn. So, if you will let the coachman take your pets, I'll see that +you, Boy, go into a warm bed, and you," Ann turned to Flea, "must have +some supper and other clothes. Your brother is very ill, I believe, and +I think we ought to have a doctor." + +Flea pricked up her ears, and a sad smile crossed her lips. "Ye mean, +Ma'm," said she, "that Flukey can sleep in a real bed and have doctor's +liniments for his bones?" + +Ann nodded. "Yes. Now then hurry!... Look at that poor little boy!" + +Flukey was on his knees, leaning against the wall, his feverish fingers +clutching his curls. + +"Horace! Horace!" called Ann. + +Shellington opened the dining-room door and went out hurriedly, leaving +Everett Brimbecomb and Katherine Vandecar still surveying the +disarranged table. + +"It all seems strange to me, Katherine; I mean--this," said Everett, +waving his hand. "I scarcely believed Horace when he said he had allowed +it." + +As he spoke, he approached the table and lifted the soiled cloth between +his fingers. + +"You can see for yourself," he said, "the marks of the pig's feet on the +linen." + +Katherine examined the spots. "But it really doesn't matter, does it?" +she said. "The poor little animals were hungry, and Horace has such a +big heart!" and she sighed. + +Everett made an angry gesture. "But I object to Ann having anything to +do with such--" he hesitated and finished, "such youngsters. There's no +need of it." + +"Oh, Everett--but those two children must be cared for! Horace will come +back in a few minutes, and then we'll know all about it." + +"In the meantime I'm hungry," grumbled Everett, "and if we're going to +the theater--" + +He had no time to finish his sentence before Horace, with a grave +countenance, opened the door. + +"I'm sorry, Katherine," he apologized, and then stopped; for he noticed +Everett's face dark with anger. Shellington did not forget that his +friends had come to dinner; but he had just witnessed a scene that had +touched his heart, and he determined to make both of his guests +understand it also. + +[Illustration: "I'M GOIN' TO TAKE HIS KIDS--AND I'LL MAKE OF 'EM WHAT I +BE."] + +"The evening has turned out differently from what Ann and I expected," +he explained. "The fact is that sister can't go to the theater, and I +feel that I ought to stay with her. So, we'll order another dinner, and +then, Everett, if you and Katherine don't--" His fingers had touched +the bell as he was speaking; but Everett stopped him. + +"If the boy is too ill to be taken to a hospital," he said coldly, "Ann +might be persuaded to leave him with the servants." + +"Yes, I suggested that," answered Horace; "but she refused. The boy has +somehow won her heart, and the doctor will be here at any moment." + +A servant appeared, and in a half-hour the table was spread with another +dinner. Ann's coming to the dining-room did not raise the spirits of the +party; for her eyes were red from weeping, and she refused to eat. + +"I've never known before, Everett," she said, "that children could +suffer as that little boy does." + +"And you shouldn't know it now, Ann, if I had my way," objected +Brimbecomb. "There's a strong line drawn between their kind and ours, +and places have been provided for such people. I really want you to come +with us tonight." + +In sharp astonishment, Ann turned on him. + +"Oh, I really couldn't, Everett!" she said, beginning to sob. "I +shouldn't enjoy one moment of the time, while thinking of that poor +child. You take Katherine, and say to Governor and Mrs. Vandecar that we +couldn't come tonight. Tell them about it or not as you please. They are +both good and kind, and will understand." + +Her tears had ceased during the latter part of her speech; for the frown +had deepened on Everett's brow, bringing determination to her own. Never +before had she been forced to exercise her wish above his, and +Brimbecomb was not prepared for it. Something new had been born in the +large, sad eyes turned to his, something he did not comprehend, and he +inwardly cursed the squatter children. + +At eight o'clock Everett handed Katherine into the carriage and gloomily +took his place beside her. They were late at the theater by several +minutes, when he brushed aside the curtain and ushered Miss Vandecar +into the Governor's box. Mrs. Vandecar was seated in the far corner, her +attention directed upon the play. Vandecar rose quietly, and before +resuming his seat waited until his niece had taken her place. Then they +were silent until the curtain fell after the first act. + +"Where are Horace and Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar of Everett. "Ann +telephoned me at dinner-time that she would be here." + +Everett inclined his head toward Katherine, and the girl explained the +situation. When she had added pathos to the story by telling of Flukey's +illness, Mrs. Vandecar broke in. + +"I'm glad Ann stayed, dear girl! It's like her to nurse that sick +child." She said no more; but turned away with misty eyes. + +During the next act the Governor drew near her, and amid the shadows of +the darkened box, took up the slender fingers and held them until the +lights flashed upon the falling curtain. Both had gone back in memory to +those dreadful days when tragedy had cast its somber shadows over them. + + * * * * * + +The doctor had predicted a serious illness for Flukey. Ann and Horace +held an earnest conversation about it. Miss Shellington's maid had been +instructed to relieve Flea of her boy's attire and clothe her in some of +Ann's garments. Horace led his sister to the room where Flukey lay, and +suggested that Flea be called. + +A servant appeared at the touch of the bell. + +"Tell the boy's sister to come here," said Horace. + +When Flea knocked at the door a few minutes later, he bade her enter. +Suppressing her pleasure and surprise at the girl's loveliness, Ann +walked forward to meet her; but the little stranger backed timidly +against the door and flashed a blushing glance at the man. + +The mauve dressing-gown, reaching to the floor, displayed to advantage +the girl's lithe figure, accentuating its long, graceful lines. The +bodice, opened at the neck, exposed the slender white throat, around +which the summer's sun had tanned a ruddy ring. Her hair had been parted +in the center and twined in adorable curls about the young head. + +The transformation drew an untactful ejaculation from Horace, and he +stared intently at the sensitive face. Flea's gray eyes, after the first +hasty glance at him, sought Flukey. + +"Flukey ain't so awful sick, be he?" she questioned fearfully. + +Ann passed an arm tenderly around her. "Yes, child, he is very ill. My +brother and I want to speak to you about him." + +"But he ain't goin' dead?" + +Her tone brought Horace nearer. In spite of Flea's somberness, the +bouyancy of her youth obliterated the memory of every other girl he +knew. He was confounded by the thought that a short time before she had +stood as a ragged boy before him. She had been transformed into +womanhood by Ann's clothing. + +Flea bent over Flukey and hid her face. Even when Horace had discovered +the pig in the salad, her embarrassment had been of small moment to +this. After an instant, she lifted her eyes from her muttering brother +and allowed them to fall upon her Prince. There was an unmistakable +smile upon his lips; nevertheless, a great fear possessed her. If Flukey +were allowed to stay there because of his illness, she at least would be +taken away; for she had never heard of a theft being entirely +overlooked, and she believed that her imprisonment must be the penalty. + +She stooped a little and lovingly touched Flukey's shoulder, looking +first at Ann, then at Horace. Straightening up, she burst out: + +"Mister, if ye're goin' to have me pinched for stealin', do it quick +before my brother knows about it, and--I'd ruther go to prison in +Fluke's pants--please!" + +Still the master of the house did not speak. Flea was filled with +suspicion, and thought she divined the cause of his quietness and smile. +He was ridiculing her dress, perhaps making sport of the way her curls +were arranged. She thrust one hand upward and tumbled the mass of hair +into disorder. + +"Yer woman put these togs onto me," she said, "and I feel like an old +guy--dressed up this way!" + +Anger forced tears into her eyes, and her two small brown hands clenched +under the hanging lace at her wrists. Her words and the spontaneous +action deepened the expression on the face of the silent man, and she +cried out again: + +"Ye needn't be making fun of me, Mister! I can't help how I look." + +But a feverish exclamation from the sick boy so increased her anxiety +for him that her own troubles were overwhelmed. She was rendered +unmindful that Ann had softly called her name; nor did she realize that +Shellington had spoken quietly to her. + +She flung out her hands in eloquent appeal. + +"Oh, I thank ye for covering my brother up so warm! He didn't need no +sheets nor piller-slips; but his bones did need the blankets--sure. I +say as how he'd thank ye, too, if he weren't offen his head." + +Horace gently took the girl's hands in his, and Flea lowered her +sun-browned face. + +"I know he would, child," he said in moved tones. "He's more than +welcome to all we can do--and you are to stay here, too, little girl." + +Horace had done what Ann had been unable to do. The words had soothed +the squatter girl, and the savage young heart was softened. The long, +dreary country marches were over; the cold nights and bare fields were +things of the past. For Flukey, there were tender hands that would ease +his pain; for her, a home unmenaced by Lem. She had looked her last upon +horrors that had bound her to a life she hated. + +Shellington spoke to her. + +"Look at me, child!" said he. "I want to tell you what the doctor said." + +She lifted an anxious gaze filled with the emotion of a woman's soul. It +was her dawning womanhood that Horace saw, and toward it his manhood was +unconsciously drawn. + +Ann spoke quietly: + +"The doctor says that your brother will be ill many weeks, and we have +decided to keep him here with us, if you consent to our arrangements." + +"Ye mean," gasped Flea, snatching her hands from Horace, "ye mean that +Flukey can lay in that there bed till he gets all well and all the +misery has gone out of his bones?" + +Ann's answer meant much to Flea. The girl had realized the import of the +speech; but, that she might better understand the words, she had sent +them questioningly back in her vernacular for further confirmation. + +"If you are willing to stay with us," Horace was saying, "and will help +us take care of him--" + +He could not have offered anything else that would so have touched her. +How she had longed to do something for Flukey those last hours in the +graveyard! But Flea wanted no mistake. Did the gentleman understand how +terribly poor they were? + +"We ain't got no money, and we only own Squeaky and Snatchet." + +Shellington smiled at the interruption. + +"You will still own your dog and pig, child, if you ever wish to go +away. My sister and I are anxious to have your brother grow strong and +well. He has rheumatic fever, which is sometimes very stubborn, and if +we don't work hard--" + +He paused, tempted to pass one arm about the girl as his sister had +done; but the womanliness of her forbade. + +"Ye think Flukey mightn' get well?" Flea breathed. + +Ann turned anxious eyes upon the boy, who was muttering incoherently. + +"Poor little child! May Jesus help him!" she whispered. + +Flea rose to her feet. + +"Jesus! Jesus!" she repeated solemnly. "Granny Cronk used to talk about +him. He's the Man what's a sleepin' in the grave with the kid with the +same name as that bright-eyed duffer who don't like Fluke nor me." + +Ann, mystified, glanced at Horace. + +Flukey turned slowly, opened his eyes, and murmured; + +"'Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little--'" + +He sighed painfully as the last words trailed from his lips. Flea ended +his quotation, saying: + +"'A little child.' But, Flukey, Jesus is dead and buried." + +"No, no, He isn't, child!" cried Ann sharply. "He'll never die. He will +always help little children." + +"Ain't He a restin' in the dead man's yard out there?" +demanded Flea, lifting her robe as she moved toward Ann. + +"No! indeed, no! He is everywhere, with the dead and the living, with +men and women, and also with little children." + +"Where be He?" Flea asked. + +"In Heaven," replied Ann, leaning over Flukey. "And He's able even to +raise the dead." + +Flea grasped her arm. + +"Then, if He's everywhere, as ye've jest said, can't ye--" + +Flukey opened his eyes. + +"If ye know that Man Jesus, well enough," he broke forth, trying to take +her hand in his, "if ye ever sees Him to speak to Him, will ye say that, +if He'll let my bones get well, and keep my little Flea from Lem, I'll +do all He says for me to? Tell Him--tell--tell Him, Ma'm, that my bones +be--almost a bustin'." + +"Can He help Fluke any if ye ask Him?" Flea questioned. + +Ann nodded; but Flea, not satisfied, asked the question directly of +Horace. + +"I believe so," he hesitated; "yes, I do believe that He can and will +help your brother." + +"Will ye ask Him?" Flea pleaded. "Will ye both ask Him?" + +Ann answered yes quickly; and Flea was satisfied with the nod Horace +gave her before he wheeled about to the window. + +When Flukey was resting under the physician's medicine, Horace and Ann +listened to the tale of the squatter children's lives, told by Flea. It +was then that Shellington promised her that Squeaky should find a future +home on their farm among other animals of the kind, and that he would +make it his task to see that the little pig had plenty to eat, plenty of +sunshine, and a home such as few little pigs had. Snatchet, too, Horace +promised, should be housed in a warm kennel with the greyhounds and +blooded pups. + +When Flea leaned over Flukey to say goodnight to him, she breathed: + +"This be the promised land, all right, Fluke! Ain't we lucky kids to be +here?" + + + + +CHAPTER TWELVE + + +With infinite tenderness, Ann led Flea into the pretty blue bedroom. The +girl drew back with an exclamation. + +"It's too nice for a squatter! But I'm glad you put Fluke in that red +place, 'cause it looks so warm and feels warm. But me--" + +Ann interrupted hastily. + +"You remember my brother saying that you were going to stay here with us +until your brother was well?" + +Flea assented. + +"Then, as long as you are with us, you will be our guest just as though +you were my sister. Would you like to be my sister?" + +Flea dropped her gaze before the earnest eyes. + +"Yep!" she choked. "But I'm a squatter, Missus, and squatters don't +count for nothin'. But Fluke--" + +"Poor child! She can't think of anyone but her brother," Miss +Shellington murmured to herself. + +But Flea caught the words. + +"He's so good--oh, so awful good--and he ain't never had no chance with +Pappy Lon. If he gets well, we'll work together, and we won't steal +nothin' ever no more." + +"I feel positive you won't," assured Ann. "You remember, I told you +tonight how very good God is to all His children, and you are a child of +His, and you know that the Bible says that you must never take anything +that doesn't belong to you." + +"Nope, I ain't never seen no Bible," faltered Flea. + +"Then I'm going to give you one, and you can learn to read it. Wouldn't +you be happy if your brother should get well, and you knew that your +prayers had done it?" + +"It wouldn't be me, Ma'm; 'twould be you and your brother." + +Ann considered how she should best begin to open the young mind to +truth. + +"Child, would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked presently. + +"Yep," replied Flea eagerly. "Is it about fairies, or ghosts, or goblins +what live near lakes?" + +"No; it's about Jesus, who died to save the world." + +Then gently and simply Ann told the story of the Passion to the +wondering girl, and shortly after left her to sleep. + +Miss Shellington went to her brother's study, and he met her with a +quizzical smile. + +"You've woven a net about yourself, Sis, haven't you?" said he. + +"And about you, too, Dear," Ann retorted. "But, Horace, I shouldn't have +thought of keeping them, if you hadn't consented." + +She looked so troubled, her brow puckered up in thought, that he smiled +again. + +"Of course, you wouldn't--I know that. But I'm not in the least sorry. +We've money enough to do a kindness once in awhile. And as long as you +don't work yourself to death over them I sha'n't complain." + +They were silent for a little while. Then presently Ann spoke musingly: + +"Horace, do those children remind you of someone?" + +"I don't know that they do. I'm not a fellow who notices resemblances. +Why?" + +"I can't tell. Only, when they stood there tonight by the table, +looking so forlorn, there was something familiar about them." + +"Your dear, tender heart imagined it," Horace declared. + +"Possibly. Still, the feeling has been with me ever since. Horace, I've +always wanted to do some real work, and don't you think this--" + +"Hark!" Horace interrupted. "Wasn't that the bell?" + +"Yes, it's Everett, I hope," said Ann, rising, "I thought perhaps he +would run in. Yes, I hear his voice! Shall I bring him in here for a few +moments?" + +"Yes." + +When Everett came in, Horace noted that he had lost the frown. +Brimbecomb good naturedly demanded if Ann intended to start a +kindergarten. He recounted how Mr. and Mrs. Vandecar had received their +excuses, and then said: + +"Ann, Mrs. Vandecar thought you so charitably inclined. She seemed quite +exercised over the story. But you don't intend to keep them here after +tomorrow morning, do you?" + +"Well, you see, Everett," Ann explained, "Horace and I have talked for a +long time about doing some real charity work; so now we're going to try +an experiment." + +"These boys--" + +Ann interrupted. "One of them is a girl." + +Horace saw the change on Brimbecomb's face and said hurriedly: + +"The girl had on her brother's clothes, that's all." + +"Strange proceedings all the way through, though," snapped Everett. + +He was showing himself in a new light, and Horace noted that the young +lawyer's face bore sarcasm and unpleasant cynicism. He wondered that +his gentle, obedient sister had gathered courage to stand against her +lover's wishes; for Everett had expressed a decided objection to Ann's +working for the squatter children. Suddenly he felt a twinge of dislike +for the man before him, and his respect for Ann deepened. How many +girls, he reasoned, would have the courage and desire thus to take in +two suffering children? He rose quickly and left the room. + +Everett took up the argument again with Miss Shellington: + +"Ann, you're going very much against my wishes if you keep those +children here." + +"I'm sorry, Dear," she said simply; "but you know--" + +"I know that you won't do anything of which I disapprove, Ann." + +"You're mistaken, Everett," Ann contradicted slowly. "I could not allow +even you to mark out my duty. And something makes me so anxious to help +them! I don't want to go against your wishes; but--I must do as my +conscience dictates." + +"Surely you don't mean, Ann, that if you were my wife you would force--" + +"Please don't, Everett! No, of course not; but this is Horace's home and +mine, and, if we desire to share it with someone less fortunate than we +are, you shouldn't object." + +Everett took up no more time in vain argument; but registered a vow that +he would make it warm for the beggars who had thrust themselves upon the +Shellingtons. He would search for an opportunity! Impatient and +unsettled, he left Ann. She, too, was unhappy; for it had been the first +time her duty had ever clashed with her love. The shock of the collision +hurt. + +The next morning Flea crept into her brother's room and stood looking +down at him. He opened his eyes languidly, smiled, and groaned. + +"Ain't yer bones any better this mornin'?" asked Flea in an awed +whisper. + +"Yep; but my heart hurts me. The pains round it be worse than the misery +in my knees, 'cause I can't breathe." + +Flea bent lower. + +"Did the pretty lady tell ye anythin' last night?" + +"Nope; did she tell you anythin'?" + +"Yep, all about the Jesus. Get her to tell you, Fluke. It's better than +fairy stories. I can't remember all of it; but she says He jest loved +everybody so well that He let 'em nail Him on a cross, and died there. +But He got up again, and that's how He came to be up there." + +Flea pointed upward. + +"Did Miss--Miss Shellington tell ye that?" + +"Yep, Fluke." She hesitated and whispered again, "Do ye believe it, +Fluke?" + +"Course I do, if she says it! Don't ye think what she says is so?" + +"I don't believe all that," replied Flea. "I tried last night, and +couldn't. You used to laugh at me when I said as how there was ghosts." + +"Mebbe she don't believe in ghosts," sighed Flukey. + +"It's almost the same. She believes in Jesus." + +"He's all I believe in, too." Flukey closed his eyes wearily. + +"Fluke," whispered Flea presently, "ye ought to see that room I slep' +in! It were finer'n this one." + +"This be the promised land, all right, what Scraggy speaked about," said +Flukey. "There ain't no more places like it in this here world." + +"I believe that, too," answered Flea, "and if we hadn't been hungry +we'd never have stealed, and we wouldn't have found Mr. and Miss +Shellington. Yet she says it's wicked to steal." + +"So it be, Flea, and ye know it. All ye're tryin' to do now is not to +believe about that Jesus. I bet somethin'll come that'll make ye believe +it." + +"Mebbe," mumbled Flea darkly; "but 's long 's 'tain't Pappy Lon or Lem, +I don't care." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN + + +During the next two weeks, while Flukey was fighting with death, and the +great Shellington mansion was as silent as a tomb, Scraggy Peterson was +tramping back to the squatter country. When she reached Ithaca, she was +almost too ill to start up the Lehigh Valley tracks toward her hut. The +black cat clung to her tattered jacket, his wizard-eyes shining green, +as Screech Owl passed under the gas-lamps. It was almost ten o'clock at +night when she unlatched her shanty door and kindled a fire. The larder +was bare, save for some crusts of hard bread. These the woman soaked in +hot water and shared with the cat. Then, in a state of great exhaustion, +she picked up Black Pussy, blew out the candle, and, for the first time +in many days, slept in her own hut. + +On the shore below Lem Crabbe's scow was drawn up near the Cronk hut. +The squatter and scowman were conversing in the dim light of a lantern +that swung from Lem's hook. + +"Did ye make any hauls while ye was gone, Lem?" asked Lon. + +"Nope, only sold the lumber. I ain't trying nothin' alone." + +"It was cussed mean I couldn't go along with ye," Lon said; "but I had +to stay to hum. Did ye know that Mammy were dead?" + +"Nope!" + +"Yep, and buried, too! She fretted over the brats, and kep' a sayin' +they was dead in the lake. But I know they jest runned off some'ers." + +"I know it, too," Lem grunted savagely. "The gal didn't have no likin' +for me." + +"I jest see Scraggy come hum," ventured Lon. "She's been gone for a long +while. She were a comin' down the tracks." + +Lem muttered a savage oath, and faced the scow preparatory to entering. +Looking back over his shoulder, he asked: + +"Be ye comin' in, Lon?" + +"Nope; I'm goin' to bed. Say, Lem, while ye was away, ye didn't get ear +of no good place to make a haul soon, did ye?" + +"Yep; I tied up to Tarrytown goin' down. There be heaps of rich folks +there. Middy Burnes what runs the tug says as how there be a feller +there richer than the devil.... Hell! I've forgot his name!" + +Lem halted on the gangplank and thought for a moment. + +"Nope, I ain't; I jest thought of it!... Shellington! That's him, and +he's a fine house, and many's the room filled with--" + +Lon broke in upon Lem with a growl: + +"Then we'll separate him from some of his jewjaws. I bet we has a little +of his pile afore another month goes by!" + +"That's what I bet, too," muttered Lem. "Night, Lon." + +"Night," repeated Lon, walking away. + + * * * * * + +Lem placed the lantern on the table and sat down to think. Ever since +the day Screech Owl had told him of the boy he had wounded so many years +before his mind had worked constantly with the thought that he must +find the home where his son was. Scraggy was the only human being to +tell him. She must tell him! He would make her, if he had to choke the +woman to death to get her secret! He remembered how she had mocked at +him when she had told him that strange bit of news. Realizing that +Scraggy's malady made her difficult to coerce, he decided to try +cajolery at once. + +Lent rose and took a bit of bread from the cupboard shelf. He slipped it +into a bag, caught up the lantern with his hook, and left the scow. He +halted in front of Scraggy's dark hut and pounded on the door. The cat, +scrambling to the floor inside, was Lem's answer. He knocked again. + +"Scraggy! Scraggy!" he called. "It be Lemmy! Open the door!" + +Through her deep sleep came the voice Screech Owl had loved, and still +loved. She sat up in bed, trembling violently, pushing back with a +pathetic gesture the gray hair from her eyes. She had been dreaming of +Lem--dreaming that she had heard his voice. But black pussy couldn't +have dreamed also. He was perched in the small window, lashing his great +tail from side to side. She slid from the bed, stretched out a bony +hand, and clutched the cat. + +"Did ye hear him, too, black pussy?" + +"Scraggy!" called Lem again, "Open the door! I brought you something to +eat." + +It was the thought of the time when he had loved her so, and not of the +food he had brought, that forced Scraggy to the door. She flung it open, +and the scowman entered. + +"I thought ye might be hungry, Scraggy; so I brought ye this bread," +said Lem, lifting the hook and sending a ray from the lantern upon the +woman. "Can I set down?" + +Could he, this king among men to her, could he sit down in her hut? He +could have had her heart's blood had he asked it! Had she not crowned +him that day, when he had stood awkwardly by, as she tendered him a +dark-haired baby boy? Scraggy's happiness knew no bounds. She forgot her +fatigue and set forth a chair for Lem. + +"Be ye glad to see me, Scraggy?" asked he presently, crossing his legs +and watching her as she lighted some candles. + +"More'n glad," she replied simply. "But what did ya come for, Lemmy?" + +Lem remained silent for some seconds; then said: + +"Do ye want to come back to the scow, Scraggy?" + +"Ye mean to live?" + +Lem shoved out his hairy chin. + +"Yep, to live," said he. + +"Did ye come to ask me back, Lemmy?" + +"Yep, or I wouldn't have been here. I've been thinkin' our fambly +oughter be together." + +"Fambly!" echoed Screech Owl wonderingly. + +"Yep, Scraggy. We'll get the boy again, and all of us'll live on the +scow." + +His swarthy face went yellow in the candlelight, and the huge goiter +under his chin evidenced by its movements the emotion through which he +was passing. Scraggy had sunk to the floor. Now she crawled nearer him, +staring at his face with wonder-widened eyes. + +"Do ye mean, Lemmy, that ye love yer pretty boy brat well enough to want +him on the scow, and that he can eat all he wants?" + +"That's what I mean," grunted Lem. + +"And that ye mean me to tell him what ye says, Lemmy, and that ye want +me to bring him back?" + +"Yep." + +Scraggy had drawn closer and closer to Lem, her sad face wrinkling into +deeper lines. With each uttered word Lem had seen that he had conquered +her. Suddenly he dropped his heavy left hand down on the gray head and +kept it there. + +For the first time in many weary years Scraggy Peterson was kneeling +before her man. Now he wanted her! He had asked her to come again to +that precious haven of rest, and to bring the child! Scraggy forgot that +the babe she had passed through the barge window was grown to be a man, +forgot that he might not want to come back to the scow with her and his +father. + +Lem drew her close between his heavy knees and touched her withered chin +with his fingers. + +"Where be the brat, Scraggy?" he wheedled. + +Screech Owl lifted her head and drew back frightened. Something warned +her that she must not tell him where his son lived. + +"I'll get him for ye," she said doggedly. + +"Where be he?" demanded the scowman. + +"I ain't tellin' ye where he be now, Lem." Scraggy's tone was sulky. + +"Why?" + +"'Cause I'll go and get him. I'll bring him to the scow +lessen--lessen--" + +"Lessen what?" cried Lem darkly. + +"Lessen a month," replied Scraggy, "and ye'll kiss the brat, and he'll +call ye 'Daddy,' and he'll love ye like I do, Lemmy dear." + +Lem was rigid, as the woman smoothed down his shaggy gray hair and +patted his hard face. Suddenly he started to his feet. + +"Ye say, Scraggy, that ye'll bring the boy lessen a month?" + +"Yep, lessen a month. And, Lemmy, he be a beautiful baby! Ye'll love +him, will ye, Lemmy?" + +"Yep. And now ye take yer cat, Screechy, and get back to bed, and when +ye get the boy bring him to the scow." He hesitated a moment; then said, +"Ye don't know, do ye, where Flea and Flukey run to?" + +Scraggy's face dropped. + +"Be they gone?" she stammered, rising. + +"Yep, for a long time; and Granny Cronk be dead." + +"Then ye didn't get Flea, Lem?" + +"Nope. And I don't want the brat, Scraggy; I only want the boy." He +spoke with meaning, and when he stood on the hut steps he turned back to +finish, "Ye'll bring him, will ye, Owl?" + +"Yep, Lemmy love, lessen a month." + +Scraggy greedily watched the shadowy form move away in the light of the +lantern. "Pussy, Pussy," she muttered, as she closed the door, "black +Pussy, come a beddy; yer ole mammy be that happy that her heart's a +bustin'." + +When Screech Owl, although the happiest woman in the squatter +settlement, fell asleep with the cat in her arms, her pillow was wet +with tears. + + * * * * * + +Through long days of anxious waiting for Flukey's recovery, Flea +struggled with the Bible lessons Ann set for her each day. Yet she could +not grasp the meaning of faith. She prayed nightly; but uttered her +words mechanically, for the Savior in the blue sky seemed beyond her +conception. In spite of Miss Shellington's tender pleading, in spite of +the fact that Flukey believed stanchly all that Ann had told them, Flea +suffered in her disbelief. Many times she sought consolation in Flukey's +faith. + +"Ye see, Flea, can't ye," he said, one morning, "that when Sister Ann +says a thing it's so? Can't ye see it, Flea?" + +"Nope, I can't. I don't know how God looks. I can't understand how Jesus +ruz after he'd been dead three days." + +"He did that 'cause He were one-half God," explained Flukey, and then, +brightening, added, "Sister Ann telled me that if He hadn't been a +sufferin' and a sufferin', and hadn't loved everybody well enough, God +wouldn't have let Him ruz. 'Twa'n't by anything He did after He were +dead that brought Him standin' up again." + +"Then who did it?" queried Flea. + +"God did--jest as how He said 'way back there when there wasn't any +world, 'World, come out!' and the world came. He said, 'Jesus, stand +up!' and Jesus stood up. That's as easy as rollin' off a log, Flea." + +She had heard Ann explain it, too; but it seemed easier when Flukey +interpreted it. + +"If I could see and speak to Him once," she mourned, "I could make +Sister Ann glad by tellin' her that I knowed He'd answer me." + +"Ask Him to let ye see Himself," advised Flukey, "He'll do it, I bet! +Will ye, Flea?" + +"Nope! I'd be 'fraid if He came and stood near me. I'm 'fraid even now +when I think of Him; but 'cause I can't believe 'tain't no reason why +you can't, Fluke." + +She turned her head toward the door and listened. + +"Brother Horace ain't like Sister Ann," she whispered. + +"Nobody ain't like her, Flea. She's the best ever!" + +"Yep, so she is. But I wish as how--" She paused, and a burning blush +spread over her face. "I wish as how Brother Horace had Sister Ann's way +of talking to me. I could--" + +"Brother Horace ain't nothin' to do with yer believin', Flea." + +"Yep, he has, and when he says as how he believes like Miss Shellington, +then I'll believe, too. See?" + +Then Flea fell into a stubborn silence. + +One afternoon in December, Ann and Horace sat conversing in the library. + +"I don't see how Mrs. Vandecar can refuse to help you get that child +into school, Ann." + +"I don't believe she will; but Everett thinks she ought." + +"Everett's getting some queer notions lately," Horace said reluctantly. + +Ann's heart ached dully--the happiness she had had in her lover had +diminished of late. Constantly unpleasant words passed between them on +subjects of so little importance that Ann wondered, when she was alone, +why they should have been said at all. Several times Brimbecomb had +refused to further his acquaintance with the twins. + +"I only wish he would like those poor children," said she. "I care so +little what our other friends think!" + +Shellington pondered a moment. He reflected on Flea's beseeching face as +she pleaded for Flukey, and he decided that the censure of all his +acquaintances could not take his protection from her. + +"No, I don't care for the opinion of any of them," he replied +deliberately. "I want only your happiness, Sis, and--theirs." + +"Wouldn't it be nice if we could find respectable names for them?" Ann +said presently. "One can't harmonize them with 'Flea' and 'Flukey.'" + +After a silence of a few moments, Horace spoke: + +"What do you think about calling them Floyd and Fledra, Ann?" + +"Oh, but would we dare do that, Horace?" + +"Why not? It wouldn't harm the Vandecars, and the children might be +better for it. We could impress upon them what an honor it would be." + +"But the Vandecars' own little lost children had those names." + +"That's true, too; but I haven't the least idea that either one of them +will take offense, if you explain that we think it will help the +youngsters." + +"Shall I speak with Mrs. Vandecar about it this afternoon?" asked Ann. + +"Yes, just sound her, and see what she says." + +"I might as well go to her right away, then, Horace. You talk with the +little girl about going to school while I'm gone. You can do so much +more with her than I can." + +"All right," said Horace, "and I feel very sure that we won't have any +trouble with her." + +After seeing his sister depart, he returned to the library and, before +settling himself in a chair, sent a summons to Flea. + +When the girl appeared, Horace rose and cast smiling eyes of approval +over her. + +"That's a mighty pretty dress you have on," said he. "Was it Sister's +idea to put that lacy, frilly stuff on it?" + +Flea crimsoned at his praise, as she nodded affirmation. + +"Sit here in this chair," invited Shellington. "I want to have a little +chat with you this afternoon." + +Unconsciously Flea put herself into an attitude of graceful attention +and gazed at him worshipfully. At that moment Horace felt how very much +he desired that she grow into a good woman. + +"How do you think your brother is today?" he questioned kindly. + +"He's awful sick," replied Flea. + +"I fear, too, that he will be very ill for a long time. He was filled +with the fever when he came here. Now, my sister and I have been talking +it over--" + +Flea rose half-hesitantly. + +"And ye wants me to take him some'ers else?" she questioned. + +Horace motioned again for her to be seated. + +"Sit down, child," said he; "you're quite wrong in your hasty guess. No, +of course, you're not to go away. But my sister and I desire that while +you are here you should study, and that you should come in contact with +other girls of your own age. We want you to go to school." + +"Study--study what?" + +"Why, learn to read and write, and--" + +"Ye mean I have to leave Flukey, and--and you?" + +She had risen and had come close to him, her eyes filled with burning +tears. Horace felt his throat tighten: for any emotion in this girl +affected him strangely. + +"Oh, no! You won't go away from home--at least, not at night; only for a +few hours in the daytime. I'm awfully anxious that you should learn, +Flea." + +She came even closer as she said: + +"I'll do anything you want me to--'cause ye be the best ole duffer in +New York State!" Then she whirled and fled from the room. + + * * * * * + +Ann Shellington rang the Vandecar doorbell, and a few minutes later was +ushered upstairs. Mrs. Vandecar was in a negligee gown, and Katherine +was brushing the invalid's hair. + +"Pardon me, Ann dear," said Mrs. Vandecar, "for receiving you in this +way; but I'm ill today." + +"I'm so sorry! It's I who ought to ask pardon for coming. But I knew +that no one could aid me except you in the particular thing I am +interested in." + +"I shall be glad to help you, if I can, Ann.... There, Katherine, just +roll my hair up. Thank you, Girly." + +Ann had seated herself, and now spoke of her errand: + +"You've heard of our little charges who came so strangely to us not long +ago?" + +Mrs. Vandecar nodded. + +"Horace and I wish to do something for them. It seems as if they had +been sent to us by Providence. The lad is very ill, and the girl ought +to go to school. We were wondering if you could have her admitted for +special lessons to Madame Duval's. The school associations would do such +a lot for her." As Ann continued, she marked Mrs. Vandecar's hesitation. +"I know very well, Dear, that I am asking you a serious thing; but +Brother and I think that it would do her a world of good." + +Mrs. Vandecar thoughtfully received the shawl Katherine brought her. +Then she looked straight at Ann and said: + +"Everett doesn't approve of your work, does he, Ann?" + +Miss Shellington colored, and fingered her engagement ring. + +"No," she replied frankly; "but it's because he refuses to know them. +They're little dears! I've explained to him our views, and have promised +that they shall not interfere with any plans he and I may make. I've +never seen Horace vitally interested before, or at least so much so. +Now, do you think that you would be willing to do this for us? Mildred's +going to the school, and you being a patroness will make Madame Duval +listen to such a proposal from you." + +Mrs. Vandecar turned upon her visitor searchingly. + +"Are you doing right, Ann, in taking these children into your home life? +I appreciate your good-heartedness; but--" + +"Horace and I have talked it all over," interjected Ann, "and we are +both assured that we are doing what is right. Won't you think it over, +and let us know what you decide? If you find you can't do it--why, we'll +arrange some other way." + +The plan of naming the children came into her mind; but she hesitated +before broaching it. Mrs. Vandecar was a type of everything high-bred +and refined. Would it offend her aristocratic sense to have the children +named after her and her husband? Ann overcame her timidity and spoke: + +"Fledra, there's another thing I wanted to speak of. The children came +to us without proper names, and Horace suggested that we call them Floyd +and Fledra. Would you mind?" + +Mrs. Vandecar drew back a little, a shade passing over her face. A +painful memory ever present seized her. Long ago two babies had been +called after their father and mother--after her and her strong husband. +Could she admit that she did not care? Could she consent to Ann's +request? Ann noted her struggle, and said quickly: + +"I'm sorry--forgive me, Dear!" + +Mrs. Vandecar's face brightened, and she smiled. + +"I thought at first that I didn't want you to; but I won't be foolish. +Of course, call them whatever you wish. Floyd won't mind, either." + + * * * * * + +Horace met his sister expectantly. + +"Did you ask her about the names, Ann?" + +"Yes. At first she was not inclined to either of our plans; but she has +such a tender heart." + +"So she has," responded Horace. + +"She consented about the names; but said that she would send me word +about the school." + +"And she didn't give a ready consent?" + +"No; but I'm almost sure that she will do it. And now about Flea. Did +you talk with her?" + +"Yes. She consented to go to school, and said--that I was the best old +duffer in New York State." + +"Oh, Horace! She must be taught not to use such language. It's dreadful! +Poor little dear!" + +"It'll take sometime to alter that," replied Horace, shaking his head. +"They've had a fearful time, and she's been used to talking that way +always; she's heard nothing else. You can't alter life's habits in a +day." + +"But Madame Duval won't have her if she's impudent," said Ann. + +"Oh, but she's scarcely that," expostulated Horace; "she doesn't +understand. I'll try to correct her sometime." + +But he felt the blood come up to his hair as he promised; for it seemed +almost impossible to approach the girl with a matter so personal. For +the present, he dismissed the thought. + +"What about the names, Ann?" he asked. + +"As you wish, Dear; Fledra doesn't care." + +From that moment, the boy, struggling with fever, and the gray-eyed +girl, so like him, were called Floyd and Fledra Cronk. + + * * * * * + +One morning in January, the day before Flea was to begin her school +work, she was passing through the hall that led to the front door. Her +face was grave with timidity; although for hours Ann had been trying to +fortify the young spirit against the ordeal that was to confront her the +following day. Only once had Flea faltered a request that she be allowed +to stay at home; but Horace had melted her objections without expelling +her fear. To Ann's instructions concerning conduct she had listened with +a heavy heart. + +Everett Brimbecomb opened the front door as Flea approached it. She +stopped short before him, and he drew in a sharp, quick breath. Flea was +uncertain just what to do. She knew that he was going to marry Ann, and +was also aware that he hated her brother and herself. Ann, however, had +taught her to bow, and she now came forward with hesitant grace, and +inclined her head slightly. The beauty of Flea made Everett regret that +his objections to the twins had been so strenuous; but he would +immediately establish a friendship with her that would please both Ann +and Horace. He vowed that at the same time he would get some amusement +out of it. + +"Well! You've blossomed into a girl at last," he said banteringly, "and +a mighty pretty one, too! I swear I shouldn't have known that you were +one of those boys!" + +Flea threw her peculiar eyes over him; but did not speak. + +"You're going to school tomorrow, I hear. How do you like that?" + +Flea shook her head. + +"I don't want to go," she admitted; "but my Prince says as how I have +to." + +"Your what?" + +"My Prince!" + +"Your Prince! Who's your Prince?" demanded Brimbecomb. + +"Him, back in there," replied Flea, casting her head backward in the +direction of the library. + +"You mean Mr. Shellington?" + +"Yep!" + +Everett burst into a loud laugh. At the sound, Horace stepped to his +study-door and looked out. His face darkened as he discerned Flea +standing against the wall and Brimbecomb looking down at her. He came +forward and stationed himself at the girl's side, placing one hand upon +her shoulder. + +"What's the matter?" he asked. + +"Why, little Miss--I'm sure I don't know the child's name," cried +Everett breaking into merriment again, "she says you're a--Prince, +Horace." + +Shellington lowered his eyes to Flea, who was gazing up at him +fearfully. She did not look at Everett; but made an uneasy gesture with +her hand toward Horace. She had never seemed so appealingly adorable, +and inwardly Everett cursed the stupidity that had allowed so many +weeks to pass by without his having become Flea's friend. + +There was silence, during which the girl locked and unlocked her +fingers. Then she relieved it with the frank statement: + +"This man here didn't seem to know nothin' about ye; so I told him ye +was a Prince." + +Ann's voice from the drawing-room caused Everett to turn on his heel, +leaving Horace alone with Flea. + +For a moment they were both quiet. Flea considered the toe of her +slipper. A tear dropped to the front of her dress as Horace took her +hand and led her into the library. + +"Fledra," he said, using the new name with loving inflection, "what are +you crying for?" + +"I thought you was mad at me," she shuddered. "That bright-eyed duffer +what I hate laughed when I said ye was a Prince. I hate his eyes, I do, +and I hate him!" + +Shellington did not correct her mistakes in English as he had done so +often of late. With shaded remonstrance in his tone, he said: + +"Fledra, he is going to marry my sister, and he's my friend." + +"He ain't good enough for Sister Ann," muttered Flea stubbornly. + +"She loves him, though, and that is enough to make us all treat him with +respect." + +Turning the subject abruptly, he continued: + +"I'm expecting you to work very hard in school, Fledra. You will, won't +you?" + +"Yes," replied Flea, making sure to pronounce the word carefully. + +Horace smiled so tenderly into her eyes that she grew frightened at the +thumping of her heart and fled precipitately. + + + + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN + + +Fledra Cronk's school days lengthened slowly into weeks. She was making +rapid strides in English, and Miss Shellington's patience went far +toward keeping her mind concentrated upon her work. At first some of the +girls at the school were inclined to smile at her endeavors; but her sad +face and questioning eyes drew many of them into firm friends. +Especially did she cling to Mildred Vandecar, and raised in the +golden-haired daughter of the governor an idol at whose shrine she +worshiped. + +One Saturday morning in the latter part of March, Mildred Vandecar +persuaded her mother to allow her to go, accompanied by Katherine, to +the Shellington home. They found Ann reading aloud to the twins, Flukey +resting on the divan. Mildred was presented to him, and in the hour that +followed the sick boy became her devoted subject. + +The three young people listened eagerly to the story, and after it was +finished Ann entered into conversation with Katherine. + +Suddenly she heard Flukey exclaim, in answer to some question put by +Mildred: + +"My sister and me ain't got no mother!" + +Miss Shellington colored and partly rose; but she had no chance to +speak, for Mildred was saying: + +"Oh, dear! how you must miss her! Is she dead? And haven't you any +father, either?" + +"Yep," said Flukey; "but he ain't no good. He hates us, he does, and +worse than that, he's a thief!" + +Mildred drew back with a shocked cry. Ann was up instantly; while +Fledra got to her feet with effort. She remembered how carefully Ann had +instructed her never to mention Lon Cronk or any of the episodes in +their early days at Ithaca; but Flukey had never been thus warned. + +"Mildred, dear," Ann said anxiously, "Floyd and Fledra were unfortunate +in losing their mother, and more unfortunate in having a father who +doesn't care for them as your father does for you." She passed an arm +about Fledra and continued, "It would be better if we were not to talk +of family troubles any more, Floyd.... Fledra, won't you ask Mildred to +play something for you?" + +The rest of Mildred's stay was so strained that Miss Shellington +breathed a sigh of relief when Katherine suggested going. For a few +seconds neither Ann nor Fledra spoke after the closing of the door. It +was the latter who finally broke the silence. + +"Flukey hadn't ought to have said anything about Pappy Lon; but he +didn't know--he thought everybody knew about us.... Are ye going to send +us away now?" + +The girl's anxiety and worried look caused Ann to reassure her quickly. + + * * * * * + +In describing the events of the afternoon to her mother, Mildred wept +bitterly. When a grave look spread over Mrs. Vandecar's face, Katherine +interposed: + +"Aunty, while those children undoubtedly had bad parents, they will +really amount to something, I'm sure." + +It was not until she was alone with Katherine that Mrs. Vandecar opened +the subject. + +"I'm almost afraid I was incautious to allow a friendship to spring up +between this strange child and Mildred. I wish I could see her." + +"Ask her here, then. She's very pretty, very gentle, and needs young +friends sadly, although the Shellingtons are treating the two children +beautifully. If they don't grow up to be good, it won't be Ann's fault, +nor Horace's." + +"I'll invite the child to come some afternoon, then." With this decision +the subject dropped. + + * * * * * + +That evening Ann went out on a charitable mission, leaving Fledra to +deliver a message to Everett and to care for Floyd. The boy was in bed, +his thin white hands resting wearily at his sides. For sometime he +allowed his sister to work at her lessons. Then he said impetuously: + +"Flea, why be these folks always so kind to you and me? They ain't never +been mad yet, and I'm allers a yowlin' 'cause my bones and my heart hurt +me." + +Flea looked up from her book meditatively. + +"They're both good, that's why." + +"It's 'cause they pray all the time, ain't it?" Floyd asked. + +"I guess so." + +"I'd a died those nights if Sister Ann hadn't prayed for me, wouldn't I, +Flea?" + +"Yes," replied Flea in abstraction. + +After a silence, Floyd spoke again: + +"Flea, do you like that feller what Sister Ann's going to marry?" + +The girl dropped a monosyllabic negative and fell to studying. + +"Why?" insisted Floyd. + +Before Flea could reply, a servant appeared at the door, saying that Mr. +Brimbecomb wanted Miss Shellington. + +[Illustration: "IT WERE A PRINCE--A REAL LIVE PRINCE!"] + +Fledra closed her book and went to the drawing-room, where she found +Everett standing near the grate. His brilliant smile made her drop her +eyes embarrassedly. She overlooked his extended hand, and made no move +to come forward. The girl had always felt afraid of him. Now his +presence in the room increased her vague fears. Why she had felt this +sudden premonition of evil, she did not know, nor did she try to analyze +her feelings. Young as she was, Fledra recognized in him an enemy, and +yet his attitude betrayed a personal interest. She had seen him many +times during the last few weeks; but had managed to escape him through +the connivance of Miss Shellington. Ann had tactfully explained to the +girl that Mr. Brimbecomb did not feel the same toward her and Flukey as +did her brother; but had added, "It's because he does not know you both, +Dear, as Horace and I do." + +Once alone with him, she knew only that she wanted to give him Ann's +message and return quickly to Floyd. Before she could speak, Brimbecomb +passed behind her and closed the door. + +"Sister Ann won't be home for an hour," said Flea, turning sharply. + +Everett smiled again. + +"Sit down, then," he said. + +"I can't; I have to study." + +Something in the girl's tones brought a low laugh from Everett. He came +closer to her. + +"You're a deliciously pretty child," he bantered. "Won't you take hold +of my hands?" + +Placing her arms behind her, Flea answered: + +"No, I don't like ye!" She backed far from him, her eyes burning with +anger. + +"You're a very frank little maid, as well as pretty," drawled Everett. +"Ever since I first saw you as a girl, I've wanted to know something +about you. Who's your father?" + +"None of yer business!" snapped Flea. + +"Frank again," laughed the lawyer ruefully. "Now, honestly, wouldn't you +like to be friends with me?" + +"No! I said I didn't like ye, and I don't! I want to go now. You can +sit here alone until Sister Ann comes." + +She looked so tantalizingly lovely, so lithely young, as she flung the +disagreeable words at him, that Brimbecomb impulsively made a step +toward her. He was unused to such treatment and manners. That this girl, +sprung from some unknown corner, dared to flaunt her dislike in his +face, made him only the more determined to conquer her. + +"If I wait until Sister Ann comes," he said coolly, "I shall not wait +alone. I insist that you stay here with me!" + +"I have to go back to my brother. So let me go by--please!" + +Fledra made an effort to pass Brimbecomb; but he grasped her +deliberately in his arms. Drawing her forcibly to him, he exclaimed: + +"I've caught my pretty bird! Now I'm going to kiss you!" + +Flea's mind flashed back to the day when Lem Crabbe had tried to kiss +her, and the thought came to her mind that she could have borne that +even better than this. She squirmed about until her face was far below +his arm, and muttered: + +"If you try to kiss me, I'll dig a hole in yer mug!" + +Half-mocking at the threat, half-inviting its fulfilment, Everett +laughed. Then, with all his strength, he forced Flea's angry, crimsoned +face up to his and closed his lips over her red mouth, kissing her again +and again. The girl struggled until she was free. In an uncontrollable +temper she thrust her hand to Everett's face, and he felt her +fingernails scrape his cheek. He released her instantly, stepping back +in a gasp of rage and surprise. + +Pantingly the girl rubbed her lips with her sleeve. + +"If Sister Ann weren't a lovin' ye," she flashed at him, "I'd tell her +how cussed mean ye be! If ye ever try to kiss me again, I'll tear yer +eyes out, Mister!" + +She was gone before he could stop her, and, like a young fury bounded +into the presence of Flukey. + +"I know why I hate that feller of Sister Ann's," she muttered; "'cause +he's bad--he's a damn dog! That's what he is!" + +With a startled ejaculation, Floyd half-rose; but Ann's step in the hall +sent him back on the pillow gasping. + +Fledra sank down at the table, by effort repressing her breath. She +heard the door open, and when Miss Shellington entered her red face was +bent low over the grammar. + + + + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN + + +A few seconds before, when Miss Shellington had entered the house, she +had seen Everett's shadow on the drawing-room curtain; but for the +moment her habitual concern for Floyd overrode her eagerness to be with +her lover, and she hurried to the sickroom. As was her custom, she took +the boy's hand in hers and examined him closely. With her daily +observance of him, she had learned to detect the slightest change in his +appearance. Now his flushed cheeks and racing pulse told her he was +laboring under great excitement. + +"Floyd," she exclaimed in dismay, "you've been talking too much! Your +face is awfully red!... Why, Fledra, I've cautioned you many times--" + +At the girl's apparent unconcern, Miss Shellington left the reproach +unfinished. She perceived the scarlet cheeks and flashing eyes peering +at her over the open book. + +"Is there anything the matter, Fledra?" + +The girl let her gaze fall. + +"You haven't been quarreling with Floyd?" + +"Nope, Sister Ann; Flukey and me never have words." + +"I should hope not," Ann replied sincerely; "but, Fledra dear, when I +speak to you, please look at me." + +With a shake of the black curls, Fledra lifted her face. + +"Tell me what is the matter with you," said Ann. + +A glint of steel shown in the gray eyes. Flea's lips opened to speak, +and for one moment Ann's happiness was threatened with destruction. The +girl was on the point of telling her about Everett--then Brimbecomb's +voice rang out from the reception-room. + +"Ann, dear! Aren't you ever coming?" + +Fledra noticed Miss Shellington's face change as if by magic, and saw a +lovelight grow in her eyes. + +In silence, she received Ann's sorrowful kiss. + +"Little sister, I really wasn't scolding you. I was only thinking of how +careful we have to be of Floyd. I--I wish you would be kind to me!" + +During the painful constraint that followed, Fledra allowed Ann to leave +the room; but before she had more than closed the door the girl rose and +bounded after her. Impulsively she grasped Miss Shellington's arm and +thrust herself in front. + +"Sister Ann," she whispered, "I lied to ye! I was mad at Floyd, as mad +as--" + +Ann placed her finger on the trembling lips. + +"Don't say what you were going to, Dear--and remember it is as great a +sin to get into such a temper as it is to tell a story." + +"Ye won't tell anyone that I fibbed, will ye--Flukey or yer brother, +either?" + +Everett's voice called Ann again, and she replied that she was coming. + +Softly kissing the girl, she said: + +"If I loved you less, Fledra dear, I should not be so anxious about you. +But I'm so fond of you, child! Now, then, smile and kiss me!" + +Fledra flung her arms about the other. + +"I keep forgettin'. I'll try not to be bad any more." Flea turned back +into the room, as Ann hurried away at another call from Everett, and +muttered: + +"If I loved ye less, Sister Ann, I wouldn't have lied to ye." + +Floyd's eyes questioned her as she passed him. + +"Fluke," said she, coming to a halt, "I told Sister Ann I was mad at +you, and I wasn't. You won't tell her, will ye?" + +"No," replied Flukey wonderingly, "I won't tell her nothin'." + +Flea said no more in explanation, and sat again at the study table. She +was still bent over her book when Shellington opened the door and +glanced in. The boy's eyes were closed as if in sleep, and Horace +beckoned to Flea. She rose languidly and walked to him. + +"As your brother is sleeping, Fledra," he murmured, "come into the +library and talk to me awhile." + +There were traces of tears on Fledra's face when Horace ushered her into +the study. + +"Now, little girl, sit down and tell me about your lessons. I've been so +busy lately that I haven't had time to show you my interest.... You've +been crying, Fledra!" + +"Yes, I got mad, and Sister Ann talked to me." + +"Will you tell me why you became angry?" he queried. + +Flea had not expected this, and had no time to think of a reason for her +anger. Deliberating a moment, she placed her head on her arm. It would +be dangerous to tell him about Brimbecomb. If the bright-eyed man in the +drawing-room had only let her go before kissing her--if he had only +remembered his love for Ann! She knew Horace was waiting for her to +speak; but her mind refused absolutely to concoct a reasonable excuse, +and she could not tell him a deliberate lie, as she had to Ann. + +For what seemed many minutes Horace looked at her. + +"Fledra," he said at length, "am I worthy of your confidence?" + +His question brought her up with a jerk. Would she dare tell him? Would +he be silent if he knew that Sister Ann was being perfidiously used? She +was sure he would not. + +"If I tell you something," she began, "you won't never tell anybody?" + +"Never, if you don't want me to." + +She leaned forward and looked straight at him. + +"I just lied to Sister Ann," she said. + +Horace's face paled and he grasped the arms of his chair. Presently he +asked sharply: + +"Why did you lie to my sister, Fledra?" + +"I just did, and you said you wouldn't tell." + +"Was it because you lied to her that you cried?" + +She tossed his question over in her mind. She intended to be truthful to +him, unless a falsehood were forced from her to shield Ann. + +"I cried because Sister Ann was so good to me." + +"Are you going to tell me what caused you to be untruthful?" he asked +persistently. + +Fledra shook her head dismally. + +Immeasurable compassion for the primitive, large-eyed child flooded his +soul, and his next words assumed a more tender tone. + +"Of course, you don't mean that you are going to keep it from me?" + +Her dark head suddenly dropped again, and a smothered storm of sobs drew +him closer to her. In the silence of arrested speech, he reached for her +fingers, which were twisting nervously in the webby lace on her dress. +With reluctance Flea permitted herself to be drawn from her chair. + +"Fledra, stand here--stand close to me!" said he. + +Obediently she came to his side, hiding her face in one bended arm. He +could feel the warmth of her bursting breaths, and he could have touched +the lithe body had he put out his hand. And then--and not until +then--did Horace know that he loved her. Yesterday she had seemed only a +child; but at this moment she was transformed into a woman, and his +sudden passion gave him a lover's right to pass his arm about her. In +bewilderment Flea checked her tears and drew back. He had never before +caressed her in any way. + +Horace stood up, almost mastered by his new emotion. + +"Fledra," he breathed, "Fledra, can't you trust me? Dear child, I love +you so!" + +Stunned by his words, Fledra stared at him. His voice had vibrated with +something she had never heard before. His eyes were brilliant and +pleading. + +"Fledra, can't you--can't you love me?" + +As if by strong cords, her tongue was tied. + +"Listen to me!" pursued Horace. "I know now I loved you that first night +I saw you--that night when you came into the room with Ann's--" + +He stopped at the name of his sister--he had forgotten for the moment +Flea's confession of the falsehood to her. Then the seeming injustice +done Ann turned his mind to the probing he had begun at first for the +cause of Flea's grief. Intermingled with this was a whirl of thought as +to the things that the girl had accomplished. Her entire submission to +Ann and himself, her devotion to Floyd, her desire to master the +difficult problems of her new life, all persuaded him that for his +happiness he must know the cause of her agitation. Spontaneously he +pressed his open hands to her cheeks. + +"Fledra, Fledra! Can I believe you?" + +The girl lowered her head and nodded emphatically. + +"Do you--do you love anyone else--I mean any man?" + +His rapidly indrawn breath came forth with almost an ejaculation. Flea's +eyes sought his for part of a minute. Then slowly she shook her head, a +shadow of a smile broadening her lips. With effort she lifted her arms +and whispered: + +"I don't love anyone else--that is, no man! Be ye sure that ye love +me?" + +Like an impetuous boy he gathered her up, caressing her hair, her eyes, +her lips. With sudden passion he murmured: + +"Fledra! Fledra dear!" + +"I do love ye!" she whispered. "Oh, I do love ye every bit of the day, +and every bit of the night, jest like I did when you came to the +settlement and I saw ye on the shore!" + +Hitherto she had not told him that she had seen him in Ithaca, and he +did not understand her allusion to a former meeting. To his astonished +look, she replied by a question. + +"Don't ye remember one day you came to the settlement and asked the way +to Glenwood?" + +Horace conjured up a vision of a child of whom he had asked his road, +and remembered, in a flashing glance at the girl in his arms, that he +had inwardly commented upon the sad young face. He had noted, too, the +unusual shade in her eyes, and now he wondered vaguely that he had not +loved her then. + +"I remember--of course I remember! Oh, I want you to say again that you +love me, little dearest, that you love me very much!" His lips roved in +sweet freedom over her face as he continued, "You're so young, so very +young, to have a sweetheart; but if you could only begin to love me--in +a few years we could be married, couldn't we?" + +Flea's body grew tense with tenderness. She had never heard such +beautiful words; they meant that her Prince loved her as Ann loved +Everett, as good men loved their wives and good wives loved their +husbands. Instead of answering, she lifted a pale face intensified by +womanly passion. + +"Will ye kiss me?" she breathed. "Kiss me again on my hair, and on my +eyes, and on my lips, because--because I love ye so!" + +His strong avowal had opened a deep spring in her heart which overflowed +in tears. The taut arms pressed him tightly. The words were sobbed out +from a tightened young throat. The very passion in her, that abandonment +which comes from the untutored, stirred all that was primeval in him, +all the desperate longing in a soul newly born. His mouth covered hers +again and again; it sought her closed white lids, her rounded throat, +and again lingered upon her lips. After a few moments he sat down and +drew her into his arms. + +"Little love, my heart has never beaten for another woman--only for you, +always for you! Fledra, open your eyes quick!" + +The brown-flecked eyes flashed into his. Horace bent his head low and +searched them silently for some seconds. + +"I must be sure, Dear, that you love me. Are you very sure?" + +"Yes, yes! That's why I felt so bad tonight, when I told ye about lying +to Sister Ann." There was entreaty in her glance, and her figure +trembled in his arms. Horace started slightly. He had again forgotten +her admission. + +"But you will tell me all about it now, won't you, Fledra? Then we can +tell Ann and your brother about our love." + +Flea stood up; but Horace still kept his arm about her. Her thoughts +flew to Everett. How unfaithful he had been! Could she confide in +Horace, now that she was absolutely his? No; for he would punish Everett +even the more to the detriment of Ann. The thought set her teeth hard. +Had she been Ann, and Horace been Everett, had the man she loved been +unfaithful to the point of stealing kisses from another--She took a long +breath. + +But she was not Sister Ann, neither was Horace, Everett. In a twinkling +everything that Horace had been to her since the first day in Ithaca +flooded her heart with happiness. Her dreamy imagination, which had +enshrined him king of her life, worked with a new desire that nothing +should interfere with the love that he had showered upon her. He had +said, "Do you love me, Dearest?" + +The anxious question had thrilled her vibrant being to silence, had +stilled her eager tongue with the magnitude of its passion. Horace was +pleading with his eyes, imploring her to answer him. Suddenly he burst +out: + +"You will tell me, Dear, why you were untruthful to my sister?" + +Fledra pondered for a moment. + +"Something happened," she began, "and Sister Ann came in--I was mad--" + +"Were you angry at what happened?" + +"Yes." + +Horace led her on. + +"And did Floyd know what had happened?" + +"No." + +"And then?" he demanded almost sharply. + +"And then Sister Ann asked me what was the matter, and I lied, and said +I was mad at Floyd." + +Horace still held her. This sweet possession and desire of her filled +him with serious decision. He deliberated an instant on her confession. + +"Now you've told me that much," said he, "I want to know what happened." + +"I can't tell ye," she said slowly, "I can't, and ye said that ye +wouldn't tell anybody about it." + +Horace's arms loosened. Surely she could have no good reason for keeping +anything from him! Suddenly he grasped her tightly to him and kissed her +again and again. + +"Of course you'll tell me, of course you will! Tell me all about it. I +won't have this thing between us! I can't, I can't! I love you!" + +It maddened her to hear him chide her thus, filled as she was with all +the primeval qualities of the native woman to feel the strength of her +man. How his pleading touched her, how gravely his dear face expressed +an anxiety that she herself was unable to banish! Even should he send +her from him, she could not be false to Ann. To this decision the +strong, untutored mind clung, and again she refused him. + +"No, I'm not goin' to tell you. Mebbe some day I will; but not now." + +She heard him take a deep breath which tore savagely at all the best +within her. It wrestled with her affection for Miss Shellington, for her +duty to Floyd's friend. Not daring to glance up, she still stood in +silence. Horace's voice shocked her with the sternness of it. + +"You've got to tell me! I command you! Fledra, you must!" Then, tilting +her chin upward, he continued reproachfully, "If you're going to keep +vital things from me, you can't be my wife!" + +The resistance against telling him grew faint in her heart in its battle +for desirable things. + +"Ye mean," she asked, with quick intaking of breath, "that I can't be +your woman if I don't tell you?" + +A flush crawled to his forehead as the rich young voice flung the +question at him. She was so maddeningly beautiful, so young and +clinging! But she must bend to his will in a thing like this! In his +desire to set her right, he answered somewhat harshly. + +"You must tell me; of course, you must!" + +Fledra threw him a glance, pleading for leniency. She had expected him +to importune, to scold, but in the end to trust. Suddenly, in the +girl's imagination, Ann's gentle face bending over Floyd rose in its +loving kindness. + +"Then--then," she stammered, "if you won't have me, unless I tell +you--then I'll go now--please!" + +She left him with pathetic dignity, and her last glance showed his eyes, +too, filled with a strange pain. + + + + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN + + +The next week held unutterable pain for Flea, each twenty-four hours +deepening her unhappiness more and more. She made no effort to talk with +Shellington, nor did she mention her sorrow to Ann. It did not seem +necessary to her that she should again speak to Horace of going away. +When she had last suggested it, he had said that nothing she could do +would alter his decision about his home being hers until Floyd should be +well. Nevertheless, an innate pride surged constantly within her. Any +deprivation would be more welcome than the studied toleration that, she +thought, she encountered in Horace. + +One morning she stood looking questioningly down at her brother. + +"How near well are ye, Fluke?" + +"Ain't never goin' to get well!" he replied, shivering. "'Tain't easy to +get pains out of a feller's bones when they once get in." + +"If you do get well soon, I think we'd better go away." + +"Why?" demanded Flukey. + +"Because we wasn't asked to stay only till you got well." + +"Don't ye believe it, Flea! Ye wasn't here last night. Brother Horace +and Sister Ann thought I was to sleep, and I wasn't." + +"What did they say?" broke in the girl, with whitening face. + +"Sister Ann told Mr. Shellington about yer work at school, and he +said--as how--" + +Floyd waited a moment before continuing, and Flea crept closer to the +bed. She was crying softly as she knelt down and bent her face over her +brother. The boy passed his hands through the black curls. + +"What's the matter, Flea?" + +"I want to know what my Prince said to Sister Ann." + +"Be ye crying about him?" + +"Yes!" + +"Ye love him, I bet!" + +Flea buried her face deeper into the soft counterpane; but she managed +to make an affirmative gesture with her head. + +Floyd was silent, and sometime passed before he heard the girl's +smothered voice: + +"And I'm goin' to love him always--even after we go away!" + +"We ain't goin' away," said Floyd. + +"Who said so?" + +"Mr. Shellington." + +"When?" + +"Last night." + +Fledra lifted her head and grasped the boy's thin hands in hers. + +"You're sure it was last night, Fluke?" + +"Yep, I be sure. I was layin' here with my face to the wall. When Sister +Ann comes in nights, if I don't say anything, she thinks I be asleep, +and she kisses me, and I like her to do that. Last night, when she'd +done kissing me, Mr. Shellington came in, and then they talked about +us." + +"And he didn't say we was to go away?" + +"No." + +Fledra rose in sudden determination, and in her excitement spoke with +swift reversion to the ancient manner. + +"Flukey, ye be the best da----" + +Flukey thrust up a reproving finger which stopped the oath. + +"Flea!" he cautioned. + +"I were only goin' to say, Flukey," said Flea humbly, "that ye be the +best kid in all the world. Don't tell anybody what I said about my +Prince." + +She went out quickly. + + * * * * * + +With her hand upon her heart, Flea halted before the library. She knew +that Horace was there; for she could hear the rustling of papers. At her +timid knock, he bade her enter. Her tongue clove so closely to the roof +of her mouth that for a minute she could not speak. She held out her +fingers, and Horace took them in his. His face whitened at her touch; +but he gazed steadily at her. + +"You've--you've something to say to me, Fledra--sweetheart?" + +The hope in his voice rang out clearly. Fledra nodded. + +"What?" + +He was determined she should explain away the black thing that had +arisen between them. + +"I didn't come to tell ye about what happened," said she; "but to say +that, if ye don't smile and don't touch me sometimes, I'll die--I know I +will!" Her tones were disjointed with emotion, and she felt the hands +holding hers tighten. + +"I can't smile when I'm unhappy, Fledra. I can't! I can't! This past +week has been almost unbearable." + +"It's been that way with me, too," said Flea simply. + +"Then why don't you make us both happy by being honest with me? If you +didn't care for me, I should have no right to force your confidence; but +you really do, don't you?" + +"Yes; but I'm never goin' to marry ye, because mebbe I can't never tell +ye. I think ye might trust me. It's easy when ye love anyone. I say, ye +couldn't marry me without, could ye?" She seemed to suddenly grow old in +her sagacious argument. Horace shook his head sadly. + +"We'd never be happy, if I should," said he, "because--because I +couldn't trust you." + +"Oh, I want ye to trust me!" she wept. "I want ye to! Won't you once +more? Please do! Won't ye forget that anything ever happened--won't ye?" + +For a moment her supplication almost unnerved him; but he thought of +their future, of the necessity of having unlimited faith and honor +between them, and again slowly shook his head. + +Suddenly the twisting hands worked themselves loose from his, and in +another instant her feverish arms tightly encircled his neck. By the +weight of Flea's body, Horace Shellington knew that her feet were no +longer on the floor, each muscle in the rigid girl having so well done +its part that she hung straight-limbed against him. Close to his face +drew hers, and for a space of time, the length of which he could never +afterward accurately measure, he forgot everything but the maddening +expression in her face. Her eyelids were closed, and her breath came hot +upon his lips. + +"I want ye to kiss me like ye did that night--kiss me--please--please--" +In her low voice was illimitable strength and passion. + +Like burning rivers, his blood was driven through his veins. He flung +out his arms and crushed her to him. Just then his lips found hers. + +"Dear God! How I--how I love you!" he breathed. + +Fledra's arms relaxed and slipped from his shoulders. + +"Then forget about what happened!" she panted. + +All the bitter apprehensions of the last week swept over him at her +words. His love battled with him, and he wavered. How gladly would he +have dispelled every doubt and listened to her pleading! + +"But I want you to tell me, Fledra." + +Flea backed slowly from him. + +"I can't.... I can't.... I can't tell anybody!" + +The man ran his fingers across his forehead in bewilderment. In his +bitter disappointment he turned away. + +"When you come to me," his voice broke into huskiness, "when you tell me +what happened that night before you saw my sister, I shall--I shall love +you--forever!" + +Then came a single moment of critical silence; but it needed only the +thought of Ann for the girl to toss aside his plea and turn upon her +heel. + +"I don't want Sister Ann to know that I love ye," she said sulkily. "Ye +won't tell her?" + +"No, no, of course not--not yet!" He dropped into his chair, his head +falling forward in his hands. "I wouldn't have believed," he said from +between his fingers, "that my love for you--" + +Flea stopped him with an interruption: + +"Are ye trying to stop lovin' me?" + +Horace shook his shoulders, lifting swift eyes to hers. He noted her +expression irrevocable in its decision of silence. She was +extraordinarily lovely, and he grew suddenly angry that he had not the +power to change her, to draw from her unresistingly the story she had +locked from his perusal. + +"Don't be foolish, Fledra!" he said quite harshly. "A man can't love and +unlove at will. I feel as if I should never know another happy moment!" + + * * * * * + +For several days Ann watched her brother in dismay. He had grown +taciturn and gloomy. The boyish energy had left him. She ventured to +speak to Everett about it. + +"He doesn't seem like the same boy at all," she said sadly, after +explaining. "I can't imagine what has caused the change in him." + +Everett remembered Shellington's face as it had bent over Fledra, and +smiled slightly. + +"Have you ever thought lately that he might be in love?" + +"In love!" gasped Ann. "No, I know that he isn't; for it was only at the +time of the Dryden Fair that he told me he cared for no one." + +"He might have changed since then," Everett said quizzically. + +"But he hasn't met anyone lately," argued Ann. "I know it isn't +Katherine; for--for he told me so." + +"I know someone he met at the fair." + +Ann, startled, glanced up. + +"Who? Do tell me, Everett! Don't stand there and smile so provokingly. +If you could only understand how I have worried over him!" + +Brimbecomb put on a grave face. + +"Haven't you a very pretty girl in the house who is constantly under his +eye?" + +Still Ann did not betray understanding. + +"Don't you think," asked Everett slowly, "that he might have fallen in +love with--this little Fledra?" + +An angry sparkle gleamed in Ann's eyes. + +"Don't be stupid, Everett. Why, she's only a child. It would be awful! +Horace has some sense of the fitness of things." + +Everett thought of the evening he himself had succumbed to a desire to +kiss Flea. + +"No man has that," he smiled, "when he is attracted toward a pretty +woman." + +"But she isn't even grown up." + +How little one woman understands another! In his eyes Fledra had +matured; for his masculinity had sought and found the natural opposite +forces of her sex. These thoughts he modified and voiced. + +"Not quite from your standpoint, Ann; but possibly from Horace's." + +Pale and distressed, Ann got to her feet. + +"Then--then, of course, she must go," she said with decision. "I can't +have him unhappy, and--Why, such a thing could--never be!" + +She could scarcely wait for Everett to depart; but suppressed her +anxiety and delicately turned the subject out of deference to Horace. +She listened inattentively as Brimbecomb explained some new cases that +he was soon to bring to court, and kissed him when he bade her +goodnight. Then, with beating heart, she sought her brother. + +Unsmilingly, Horace asked her to be seated. His face was so stern that +she dared not at once speak of the fears Brimbecomb had raised in her +mind; but at last she said: + +"Horace, I've been thinking since our last talk about the children--" +His sharp turn in the desk-chair interrupted her words; but she paused +only a moment before going on resolutely. "Don't you think that I might +put Floyd in a good private hospital where he would be taken care of, +and Fledra--" + +His face turned ashen. Her fears were strengthened, and, although her +conscience stung her, she continued, "Fledra's getting along so well +that I would be willing to put her in a boarding school." + +"Are you tired of them, Ann?" + +"Oh, no--no, far from that! I love them both; but I thought it might be +pleasanter for you, if we had our home to ourselves again." + +Horace looked at his sister intently. + +"Are you keeping something back from me, Ann?" he demanded. + +"Scarcely keeping anything from you, Dear; but I want you to be happy +and not to--" Horace rose in agitation, and quick tears blurred Ann's +sight. + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Dearest?" she concluded. + +"No!" + +Reluctantly she left him, troubled and perplexed. + + + + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN + + +Lem Crabbe had cunningly planned to keep Scraggy under his eye and +follow her to the hiding place of their son. He realized that the lad +was a man now; but so much the better. He would obtain money from him, +or he would bring him back to the scow and make him a partner in his +trade. In spite of his wickedness, Lem had a strong longing for a sight +of his child. Many times he had meditated upon the days Scraggy had +lived in the barge, and, although he had no remorse for his cruelty to +her, he had regretted the death of his boy. To be with him, he would +have to tolerate the presence of Scraggy for awhile. He felt sure that +Flea had gone from him forever, and the loneliness of his home made him +shiver as he entered it a few nights after his conversation with +Scraggy. + +He had been in the boat but a few moments when he heard Lon's whistle +and called the squatter in. + +"I thought we'd make them plans for Tarrytown," Cronk said presently. +"We might as well get to work as to be lazin' about. Don't ye think so?" + +"Well, I were a thinkin' of stayin' here for awhile," stuttered Lem. + +"What for?" + +"Nothin' perticular." + +"Ye know where that rich duffer's house be what ye heard Middy Burnes +speak about?" + +"Yep. It ain't far from the graveyard. I thought as how we could crawl +in there while we was waitin' for night." + +A strange look passed across Lon's face. + +"Ye mean to hide in the cemetray?" he asked. + +"Yep. Be ye afeared?" + +"I ain't got no likin' for dead folks," muttered Cronk. + +He added nothing to this statement; but said after a moment's silence: + +"Scraggy ought to go dead herself some of these days, 'cause she's +allers a runnin' about in the storms. I see her ag'in tonight a startin' +out for another ja'nt. She had her bundle and her cat and was makin' a +bee line for Ithaca." + +Lem glanced up quickly. + +"I've changed my mind, Lon," he grunted. "I'll go to Tarrytown any day +yer ready." + +Accordingly, they took a week to prepare their burglar's kit, which they +had not used for sometime, and ten days after the slipping away of +Screech Owl, Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe left the squatter settlement and +made their way to Tarrytown. + + * * * * * + +The once happy household of the Shellingtons had turned into a gloomy +abode. Ann was nonplused at the strange behavior of her brother and the +unusual reserve of Flea. Floyd from his bedroom endeavored to bring the +home to its former cheerfulness; but, with all Ann's energies and the +boy's tireless tact, the change did not come. At length Miss Shellington +gave up trying to bring things to their usual routine. She spent her day +hours in helping Fledra with her school studies and giving Floyd simple +lessons at home. Everett came every evening, taking Ann from the +sickroom. This left Fledra free to study quietly beside her brother. + +One Thursday, after dinner, Horace went by invitation to Brimbecomb's +home to play billiards. Of late the young men had not passed much of +their time together; for business and the presence of Fledra and Floyd +in his house had given Horace less time for recreation. After a silent +game they sat down to smoke. For many minutes they puffed without +speaking. Everett finally opened the conversation. + +"It seems more like old times to be here together again." + +"Yes, I've missed our bouts, Everett." + +"You've been exasperatingly conservative with your time lately!" +complained Everett. "A fellow can't get sight of you unless your nose is +poked in a book or you're in court!" + +Horace laughed. + +"Really, I've been awfully busy since--" + +"Since the coming of your wonderful charges!" finished Brimbecomb. + +Horace scented a sneer. His ears grew hot with anger. + +"Ann has done more than I," he explained; "although there is nothing I +would not do." + +"I can't understand it at all, old man! Pardon me if I seem dense, but +it's almost an unheard-of thing for a fellow in your and Ann's positions +to fill your home with--beggars." His voice was low, with an inquiring +touch in it. Having gained no satisfaction from Miss Shellington, he was +seeking information from Horace. + +"We don't think of either one of them as beggars," interjected Horace. +"Both Ann and I have grown very fond of them." + +In former days the two young men had been on terms of intimacy. Everett +presumed now upon that friendship by speaking plainly: + +"Are you going to keep them much longer?" he asked. + +Horace allowed his lids to droop slowly, and looked meditatively at the +end of his cigarette without replying. + +"I have a reason for asking," Everett added. + +"And may I ask your reason?" + +"Yes, I suppose so. The fact is, I'm rather interested in them myself. I +thought--" + +Horace lifted his eyes, and the man opposite noted that they had grown +darker, that they sparkled angrily. Everett was desirous of satisfying +himself whether Horace did, or did not, care for the young girl he was +sheltering. + +"They don't need your interest so far as a home is concerned," Horace +said at last. + +Everett's face darkened as he mused: + +"They're lowly born, and such people were made for our servants, and not +our equals. If the women are pretty, they might act as playthings." + +Horace turned his eyes toward the speaker wrathfully. He wondered if he +had understood correctly what was implied by the other's words. + +"What did you say, Brimbecomb?" + +Everett drew his left leg over his right knee deliberately. + +"I think the girl pretty enough to make a capital toy for an hour," said +he. + +Disbelief flooded Shellington's face. + +"You're joking! You're making a jest of a sacred thing, Brimbecomb!" + +Everett recalled former principles of the boy Horace, and a smile +flickered on his lips. + +"I can't concede that," said he. "I think with a great man of whom I +read once. Deal honestly with men in business, was his maxim, keep a +clean record with your fellow citizens; but, as far as strange women are +concerned, treat them as you wish. It's a man's privilege to--to lie to +them, in fact." + +Without looking up, Horace broke in: + +"Ann has an excellent outlook for happiness, hasn't she?" + +"We weren't talking about Ann," snapped Everett. "I was especially +thinking of the girl in your home, who belongs leagues beneath where +you have placed her. I won't have her there! I think my position is such +that I can make certain demands on the family of the woman I'm going to +marry." + +"To the devil with your position! I wouldn't give a damn for it, and +I'll take up your first question, Brimbecomb. You asked me how long I +intended to keep those children. This is my answer! As long as they will +stay, and longer if I can make them!" His voice rang vibrant with +passion. "Don't let your position interfere with what I am doing; for, +if you do, Ann, friendship, or anything won't deter me from--" + +Brimbecomb rose to his feet and faced the other. + +"Threats are not in order," said he. + +His deliberate speech made Horace turn upon him. + +"I, too, intend to marry!" was his answer. "I intend to marry--Fledra +Cronk!" + +Brimbecomb ejaculated in anger. + +"If you will be a fool," said he, "it's time your friends took a hand in +your affairs. I think Governor Vandecar will have something to say about +that!" + +"No more than you have," warned Horace. "The only regret I have is that +Ann has chosen you for her husband. I'm wondering what she would say if +I repeated tonight's conversation to her--as to a man lying to a woman." + +"She wouldn't believe you," replied Everett. + +"And you would deny that you so believed?" + +"Yes. I told you it was my right to lie to a woman." + +"Then, by God! you're a greater dog than I thought you! Let me get out +of here before I smash your face!" + +Everett's haughty countenance flamed red; but he stepped aside, and +Horace, shaking with rage, left the house. + +"I think I've given him something to think about," muttered Everett. +"He won't be surprised by anything I do now, and I've protected myself +with Ann against him, too." + + * * * * * + +It was only when alone with Everett that Ann felt completely at her +ease. Then she threw aside the shadow that many times dismayed her and +looked forward to her wedding day, which was to come in May. This +evening she was sitting with her betrothed under the glow of a red +chandelier. + +"You know, Ann, I haven't given up the idea of finding my own family," +said Brimbecomb presently. "The more I work at law, the more I believe I +shall find a way to unearth them. I told Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb that I +intended to spend part of my next year looking for them. Mrs. Brimbecomb +said she didn't know the name under which I was born. I'm convinced that +I shall find them." + +"I hope you do, Dear." + +"You don't blame me, do you, Ann, for wanting to know to whom I'm +indebted for life?" + +"No," answered Ann slowly; "although it might not make you any happier. +That is what I most wish for you, Dearest--complete happiness." + +Everett lifted her delicate fingers and kissed them. + +"I shall have that when you are my wife," he said smoothly. + +Later he asked, "Did you speak with Horace of the matter that worried +you, Ann?" + +Miss Shellington sighed. + +"Not in a personal way," she replied; "but I really think there is more +than either you or I know. Fledra never puts herself in Horace's way any +more; in fact, they have both changed very much." + +"Possibly he has told her that he cares for her, and she has--" + +Ann shifted from him uneasily. "If Horace loves her, and has told her +so, she could not help but love him in return. She is really growing +thin with hard work, poor baby!" + +"Does she love Horace?" sounded Everett. + +"I can't tell, although I have watched her very closely." + +A strange grip caught Everett's heart. He could not think of the small, +dark girl without a pang of emotion. He had made no effort to see +Fledra; yet he was constantly wishing that chance would throw her in his +path. Later, he intended in some way to bring about another interview. +He dared not write her a letter, although he had gone so far as to begin +one to her, but in disgust at himself had torn it up. The fact that +Horace was unhappy pleased him, now that they had become antagonistic. + +The mystery clinging to Fledra haloed her for Everett beyond the point +of interest. + +"Ann," he said suddenly, "you haven't told me much about those +children--I mean of their past lives." + +"We know so little," she replied reservedly. + +"But more than you have told me. Have they parents living?" + +"A father, I think," murmured Ann. + +"And no mother?" + +"No." + +"Do you know where their father is?" + +"He lives near Ithaca, so we're told." After a silence she continued, +"We want them to forget--to forget, ourselves, all about their former +lives. I asked Horace if he wanted to place them in schools; but he +didn't want them to go away. As long as they are as good as they have +been, they're welcome to stay. Poor little things, they're nothing more +than babies, not yet sixteen!" + +"The girl looks older," commented Everett. + +"That's because she's suffered more than most girls do. I'm afraid +it'll be a long time before Floyd is completely well." + +The conversation then drifted to that happy spring day when they would +be married. + + + + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN + + +From the window of the drawing-room in his home Everett threw a glance +into Sleepy Hollow and listened to the wind weeping its tale of death +through the barren trees. The tall monuments were as spectral giants, +while here and there a guarding granite figure reared its ghostly +proportions. But the weird scenery caused no stir of superstition in the +lawyer. + +In hesitation, Everett stood for some seconds, the snow falling silently +about him; for he was still under the mood that had come upon him during +Ann's parrying of his curiosity concerning the squatter children. As he +paused, the Great Dane, in the kennel at the back of the house, sent out +a hoarse bark, followed by a deep growl. So well trained was the dog +that nothing save an unfamiliar step or the sight of a stranger brought +forth such demonstrations. Everett knew this, and walked into the +garden, spoke softly to the animal, and, noting nothing unusual, ran up +the back steps. The door opened under his touch, and he stepped in. The +maids were in the chambers at the top of the house, and quietude reigned +about him. The young master went into the drawing-room, stirred the +grate fire, and sat down with a book. For many moments his eyes did not +seek its pages. His meditations took shape after shape; until, dreaming, +he allowed the book to rest on his knees. + +Everett was perfectly satisfied with his success as a lawyer. He had +proved to others of his profession in the surrounding county that he was +an orator of no little ability and preeminently able to hold his own in +the courtroom. + +He could not have desired or chosen a better wife than Ann promised to +be; but something riotous in his blood made him dissatisfied with +affairs as they stood now. Manlike, he reflected that, if he had been +allowed to caress Fledra as he had desired, he would have been content +to have gone on his way. He wondered many times why his heart had turned +from Ann to another. Something in every thought of Fledra Cronk sent his +blood tingling and set his heart to leaping. His dreams melted into +pleasurable anticipations, and he tried to imagine the windings of his +future path. Chance had always been kind, and he wondered whether an +opportunity to win the affections of the small, defiant girl in the +Shellington home would be given him. A strain in his blood called for +her absolute subjection--and, subdue her he would; for he felt that an +invincible passion slept in her tempestuous spirit. + +Suddenly, from the direction of the cemetery, an owl sent out a mournful +cry, and a furious baying from the dog behind the house sounded. He +rose, walked to the window, and surveyed the bleak view through the +curtains. He again noted the tall trees threshing in the wind, and the +looming monuments. Still under the spell of pleasant day-dreams, Everett +silently contemplated the gloomy aspect. He had forgotten the owl and +its harsh cry. + +So deeply was he engrossed in his meditations that he did not hear the +stealthy turning of the door-handle, and it was not until a distinct +hiss reached his ears that he turned. A woman, dripping with water, her +gray hair hanging in wet strings about a withered face, stole toward +him. Everett was so taken aback by the sight of her and the hissing, +cross-eyed cat perched on her shoulder that he could not speak. A newly +born superstition rose in his heart that the woman was a wraith. Yet an +indistinct memory made her black eyes familiar. He did not move from the +window, and Screech Owl sank to the floor. + +"Little 'un," she whispered, "I've comed for ye, little 'un!" + +The sound of her hoarse voice stirred Everett's senses. He gave one step +forward, and the woman spoke again: + +"I telled yer pappy that I'd bring ye!" + +Brimbecomb shook his shoulders, his dread deepening. What was the +witch-like woman saying to him, and why was she calling him by the name +he now remembered she had used before? She crept nearer on her knees, +her thin hands held up as if in prayer, and, with each swaying movement +of her the cat shifted its position from one stooped shoulder to the +other. + +Everett found his voice, and asked sharply: + +"How did you get into the house?" + +Scraggy put up her arm, drew the snarling cat under it, and looked +stupidly at the man. She was so close that he could see the steam rising +from her wet clothes, and the hisses of the animal were audible above +his own heavy breathing. Screech Owl smoothed the cat's bristling back. + +"Pussy ain't to hiss at my own pretty boy!" she whispered. "He's my +little 'un--he's my little 'un!" + +A premonition, born of her words, goaded Everett to action. + +"Get up!" he ordered. "Get up and get out of here! Do you want me to +have you arrested?" + +Scraggy smiled. + +"Ye wouldn't have yer own mother pinched, little 'un. I'm yer mammy! +Don't ye know me?" + +He moved threateningly toward her; but a snarl from the furious cat +stayed him. + +"You lie! You crazy fool! Get up, or I'll kick you out of the house! Get +out, I say! Every word you've uttered is a lie!" + +"I don't lie," cried Scraggy. "Ye be my boy. Ain't ye got a long dig on +ye from--from yer neck to yer arm--a red cut yer pappy made that night I +gived ye to the Brimbecomb woman? The place were a bleedin' and a +bleedin' all through your baby dress. Wait! I'll show ye where it is." +She scrambled up and advanced toward him. + +Everett made as if to strike her. + +"Get back, I say! I would hate you if you were my mother! You can't fool +me with your charlatan tricks!" + +The woman sank down, whimpering. + +Again Everett sprang forward; but again the cat drove him back. + +"Go--go--now!" he muttered. "I can't bear the sight of you!" + +There were tones in his voice that reminded Scraggy of Lem, and her +heart grew tender as she thought of the father waiting for his child. + +"Ye won't hate yer pappy, if he does hate me. He wants ye, little 'un. +I've come to take ye back to yer hum. He won't hurt ye no more." + +Everett stared at her wildly. Was the delicious mystery that had +surrounded him for so many years, which had occupied his mind hour upon +hour, to end in this? He would not have it so! + +"Get up, then," he said, his lips whitening, "and tell me what you have +to say." + +Scraggy lifted herself up. Her boy wanted to hear more about his father, +she thought. + +"I gived ye to the pretty lady with the golden hair when yer pappy hurt +ye, and I knowed ye again; for the Brimbecomb's name was on the boat +that took ye. Yer pappy didn't know ye were a livin' till a little +while ago, and he wants ye now." + +"Were you married to him, this man you call my father?" demanded +Everett. + +Scraggy shook her head. + +"But that don't make ye none the less his'n, an' ye be goin' with me, ye +be!" + +Everett no longer hoped that the woman was either mistaken or lying. The +stamp of truth was on all she had said. He knew in his heart that he was +in the presence of his mother--this ragged human thing with wild, dark +eyes and straggling hair. And somewhere he had a father who was as evil +as she looked. For years Everett had struggled against the bad in his +nature; but at that moment he lost all the remembrance of the lessons of +his youth, of the goodness taught him by his foster father and mother. +It flashed into his mind how embarrassed Mrs. Brimbecomb had been when +he had constantly brought up the subject of his own family, and how +impatiently Mr. Brimbecomb had waved aside his petitions for +information. They should never know that he had found out the secret of +his birth, and he breathed thanks that they were not now in Tarrytown. +Neither Ann nor Horace should ever learn of the stain upon him; but the +girl with the black curls should make good to him the suffering of his +new-found knowledge! She came of a stock like himself, of blood in which +there was no good. + +Everett forgot the dripping woman before him as a dark thought leaped +into his mind. He could now be at ease with his conscience! Of a sudden, +he felt himself sink from the radius of Horace Shellington's life--down +to the birth level of the boy and girl next door. It dawned upon him, as +his mind swept back over his boyhood days, that Horace had ever been +better than he, with a natural abhorrence against evil. + +[Illustration: "LITTLE 'UN, I'VE COMED FOR YE LITTLE 'UN!"] + +When Scraggy again spoke, he turned burning eyes upon her. How he hated +her, and how he hated the man who called himself his father, wherever he +might be! He shut his teeth with a grit, and, unmindful of the cat, bent +over Screech Owl. He forced her head so far back that she moaned and +loosened her hold upon Black Pussy, who sprang snarling into the corner. + +"If you ever repeat that story to anyone, that I'm your son, I'll kill +you! Now go!" + +Scraggy began to cry weakly, and Black Pussy howled as if in sympathy. + +"Shut up, and keep that cat quiet! You'll draw down the servants. Now +listen to me! You say you're my mother--but, if you ever breathe it to +anyone, or come round here again, I shall certainly kill you!" + +The thoughts began to scurry wildly in Scraggy's head. Everett's threat +to kill her had not penetrated the demented brain, and his rough +handling had been her only fright. She could think of nothing but that +Lem was waiting for them at the scow. + +She dragged herself away from Everett, and with a torn skirt wiped her +ghastly face. She dropped the rag to grope dazedly for the cat, and +whispered: + +"Ye can do anything ye want to with yer ole mammy, if ye'll come back +with me to Ithaca!" + +"Ithaca, Ithaca!" Everett repeated dazedly. "Was that child you spoke of +born in Ithaca?" + +"Yep, on Cayuga Lake." + +"Get up, get up, or I'll--I'll--" His voice came faintly to Screech Owl, +and she moaned. + +The man's mind went back to his Cornell days when he had been considered +one of the richest boys in the university. His sudden degradation, the +falling of his family air-castles, made him double his fists--and with +his blow Scraggy dropped into a motionless heap. + +His bloodshot eyes took in her prostrate form, guarded by the fluffed +black cat, and his one thought was to kill her--to obliterate her +entirely from his life. He stepped nearer, and Black Pussy's ferocious +yowl was the only remonstrance as he stirred Scraggy roughly with his +foot. + +The thought that her boy did not want to go with her coursed slowly +through the woman's brain. She knew that without him Lem would not +receive her. She longed for the warmth of the homely scow; she wanted +Lem and the boy--oh, how she wanted them both! She half-rose and lunged +forward. Brimbecomb's next blow fell upon her upturned face, stunning +her as she would have made a final appeal. The woman fell to the floor +unconscious, and Everett kicked Black Pussy into the hall. There was a +snarling scramble, and when he opened the front door the cross-eyed cat +bounded out into the night. + +Everett returned hastily to the drawing-room after a covert search of +the hall for disturbers. In the doorway he hovered an instant, and then +advanced quickly to the figure on the floor. Lifting the limp woman, he +bore her out of the house and down the slushy steps. With strength that +had come through the madness of his new knowledge, he threw the body +over into the graveyard and bounded after it. Once more then he took +Scraggy up, and, stumbling frequently in the half-light, carried her to +the upper end of the cemetery. Here he deposited the body in a +snow-filled gully by a vault. Ten minutes later he was staring at his +mirrored reflection in his own room, convinced that, if he had not +already killed her, the woman would be dead from exposure before +morning. The cat had disappeared, and all traces of the night's +visitation had been removed. + + * * * * * + +Several hours before, Lem Crabbe and Lon Cronk had slunk into Tarrytown. +The snow still fell heavily when they made their preparations to enter +the home of Horace Shellington. About five in the afternoon they had +worked their way against this sharp north wind to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery +and had entered it. Until night should fall and sleep overtake the city, +they planned to remain there quietly. Not far from the fence they took +up their station in an unused toolhouse, smoking the next hours away in +silence. + +When ten o'clock neared, Lem stole out; but he came back almost +immediately, cursing the wild night in superstitious fear. + +"The wind's full of shriekin' devils, Lon," he said, "and 'tain't time +for us to go out. Be ye afeard to try it, old man?" + +"Nope," replied the other; "but I wish we had that cuss of a Flukey to +open up them doors, or else Eli was here. This climbin' in windows be +hard on a big man like me and you with yer hook, Lem." + +Lem grunted. + +"I'll soon have a boy what'll take a hand in things, with us, Lon," he +said, presently. "I ain't sayin' nothin' jest yet; but when ye see him +ye'll be glad to have him." + +"Whose boy be he?" demanded Lon. + +"Ain't goin' to tell." + +Lon ceased questioning, dismissing the subject with a suggestion that he +himself should reconnoiter the ground. He left Lem, groped his way among +the gravestones for several yards, and brought up abruptly at the fence. +From here he eyed the Brimbecomb mansion for some minutes; then he cast +his glance to the steps of the Shellington home beyond. After a few +seconds a young man ran down the stairs, and Lon slunk back to Lem in +the toolhouse. An instant later both men were startled by the cry of an +owl. Lem rose uneasily, while Lon stared into the darkness. + +"That weren't a real owl, were it, Lon?" Lem muttered. + +"Nope," growled Lon; "it sounded more like Scraggy." + +He looked at the one-armed man with suspicion. + +"Can't prove it by me," said Lem darkly. + +"Do ye know where she ever goes to?" demanded Cronk. + +Lem shook his head in negation. + +Crabbe dared not venture out again alone; for apprehension rose strong +within him. He knew that Scraggy had left the settlement to find their +boy. Had she come to Tarrytown for him? The two men crouched low, and +talked no more during some minutes. Finally, Lon, bidding Lem follow +him, lifted his big body, and they left the toolhouse. The squatter led +the way to the fence. They stood there for a time watching in silence. +Two shadows appeared upon a curtain of the house before them. A man was +lifting a woman in his arms, and the downward fall of her head gave +evidence of her unconsciousness. As the front door opened, the squatter +and the scowman retreated to their quarters. When Everett Brimbecomb +threw the body of Screech Owl into the cemetery, both were peering out. +They saw the man carry the figure off into the shadows, marking that he +returned alone. Neither knew that the other was Scraggy; but, with a +lust for mystery and evil, they slipped out with no word. Lon made off +to view the Shellington home once more, and Lem disappeared in the +direction from which Everett had come, easily following the tracks in +the snow. Coming within sight of the vault, Lem rounded it fearfully. On +the ground he saw the woman, and as he looked she rose to a sitting +position. + +Screech Owl was just recovering her battered senses. She was still +dazed, and had not heard the scowman's footsteps, nor did she now hear +the mutterings in his throat. Faintly she called to Black Pussy; but, +receiving no response from the cat, she crawled deeper into the shadows +of the vault and tried to think. Her fitful whining brought Lem from his +hiding place. + +"Be that you, Owl?" he whispered. + +"Yep. Where be the black cat?" + +"I dunno. Where ye been? And how'd ye get here?" + +Scraggy leaned back against the marble vault in exhaustion. + +"I dunno. Where be I now?" + +Lem bent nearer her, shaking her arm roughly. + +"Ye be in Tarrytown. Did ye come here for the brat?" + +"What brat be ye talkin' 'bout, Lem?" + +"Our'n, Screechy. Weren't ye here lookin' for him?" + +Through the darkness Lem could not see the crazed expression that +flashed over Scraggy's face. She thrust her fingers in her hair and +shivered. The blow of Everett's fist had banished all memory of the boy +from her mind; but Lem lived there as vividly as in the olden days. + +"We ain't got no boy, Lem," she said mournfully. + +"Ye said we had, Screechy, and I know we have. Now, get up out of that +there snow, or ye'll freeze." + +The scowman helped Screech Owl to her feet, and supported her back over +the graves to the toolhouse. + +"Ye stay here till I come for ye, Scraggy, and don't ye dare go 'way no +place. Do ye hear?" + +Screech Owl uttered an obedient assent, and Lem left her with a threat +that he would beat her if she moved from the spot. Then he crawled along +the Brimbecomb fence, and saw Lon leaning against a tree, some distance +down the road. + + + + +CHAPTER NINETEEN + + +After Everett's departure, Ann tripped into Floyd's room in a happier +state of mind than had been hers for several days. It had been her habit +to kneel beside the boy at night and send up a petition for his +recovery. Now she would thank God for his goodness to her,--Everett had +come to be more like himself, and Floyd's welcoming smile sent a thrill +of joy through her. As Ann entered, Fledra looked up from her book. Her +pale, beseeching face drew Miss Shellington to her. + +"Fledra dear, you study too late and too hard. You don't look at all +well." + +"I keep tellin' her that same thing, Sister Ann," said Floyd; "but she +keeps mutterin' over them words till I know 'em myself." + +Miss Shellington turned Fledra's face up to hers, smoothing down the +dark curls. + +"Go to bed, child; you're absolutely tired out. Kiss me goodnight, +Dear." + +Fledra loitered in the hall until she heard Miss Shellington leave +Floyd; then she stole forward. + +"Will you come to my room a little while, Sister Ann?" + +Without a word, Ann took the girl's hand; together they entered the blue +room. + +Fledra wheeled about upon Miss Shellington, when the door had been, +closed. + +"Do you believe all those things you pray about, Sister Ann?" she +appealed brokenly. + +Ann questioned Fledra with a look; the girl made clearer her demand by +adding: + +"Do you believe that Jesus hears you when you ask Him something you want +very, very bad?" + +She looked so miserable, so frail and lonely, that Ann put her arms +about her. + +"Sit down here with me, Fledra. There! Put your little tired head right +here, and I'll tell you all I can." + +"I want to be helped!" murmured Fledra. + +"I've known that for sometime," Ann said softly; "and I'm so happy that +you've come to me!" + +"It's nothin' you can do; but I was thinkin' that perhaps Jesus could do +it." + +Ann pressed the girl closer. + +"Is it something you can't tell me?" + +Fledra nodded. + +"And you can't tell my brother?" + +The girl's nervous start filled Ann with dismay; for now she knew that +the trouble rested with Horace. She waited for an answer to her +question, and at length Fledra, crestfallen, blurted out: + +"I can't tell anybody but--" + +"Jesus?" whispered Ann. + +"Yes; and I don't know how to tell Him." + +Ann thought a moment. + +"Fledra, if you wanted someone to do something for you, about which that +person knew nothing, wouldn't you have to tell it before it could be +granted?" + +Fledra nodded. + +"Then, that's what you are to do tonight. You are to kneel down here +when I am gone, and you are to feel positively sure that God will help, +if you ask Him in Jesus' name. Do you think you have faith enough to do +that?" + +"I don't know what faith is," replied Fledra in a whisper. + +"I'll tell you what it is, Dear. Now, then, don't you remember how my +brother and I prayed for Floyd?" + +Fledra pressed Ann's arm. + +"And don't you remember, Dear, that almost immediately he was helped?" + +"You had a doctor," said Fledra slowly. + +"Yes, for a doctor is God's agent for the good of mankind; but we had +faith, too. And in something like this--Is your trouble illness?" + +"Only here," answered Flea, laying her hand upon her heart. + +Ann could not force Flea's confidence; so she said: + +"Then if it is impossible to confide in Horace, or in me, will you pray +tonight, fully believing that you will be answered? You must remember +how much Jesus loved you to come down to suffer and die for you." + +"I don't believe I thought that story was true, Sister Ann." Fledra drew +back, and looked up into Ann's shocked face as she spoke, "I shouldn't +say I believed it if I didn't, should I?" + +"No, Darling; but you must believe--you surely must! You must promise me +that you will pray first for faith, then for relief, and tomorrow you +will feel better." + +"I promise," answered Fledra. + +For many minutes after Ann had left her, the girl lay stretched out upon +the bed. Her heart pained her until it seemed that she must go directly +to Horace and confess her secret. + +She got up slowly at last, and, kneeling, began a whispered petition. It +was broken by sobs and falling tears, by writhings that tore the tender +soul offering it. + +Fledra prayed for Horace, and then stopped. + +After a time she rose, having done all a girl could do for those she +loved, and, undressing, slowly crawled into bed. Through the darkness as +she lay looking upward she tried to imagine what kind of a being God +was, wondering if He were kindly visaged, or if, when His earthly +children sinned, He looked as Horace had looked when she confessed the +lie told to Ann. In her imagination, she framed the Savior of the world +like unto the man she loved when he smiled upon her, and then she +believed, and believed mightily. In likening Jesus to Horace--in +bringing the Savior nearer through the lineaments of her loved one--she +gathered out of her unbelief a great belief that He could, and would, +smooth away all the troubles that had arisen in her life. + + * * * * * + +That night she turned and tossed for several hours, praying and weeping, +weeping and praying, until from sheer fatigue she lay perfectly quiet. +Suddenly she sat up and listened. The stupor of slumber dulled her +hearing, and she struggled to catch again the sound that had awakened +her. From somewhere across the hall she heard a faint click, click, +which sounded as though some mechanic's tool were being used. + +Fledra slipped from the bed and opened the door stealthily. She crept +along the hall in her bare feet, terrified by the muffled sound, and +stopped before the velvet curtains that were drawn closely across the +dining-room doorway. Someone was tampering with the silver chest. + +For a moment terror almost forced Fledra back to her room without +investigating; but the thought that somebody was stealing Ann's precious +family plate caused her to slip her fingers between the curtains and +peep in. + +The lock of the steel safe was lighted by the rays of a dark-lantern, +and Fledra could see two shadowy figures on the floor before it. One +held the light, while the other turned a small hammer machine containing +a slender drill. The girl did not have the courage to scream a warning +to Horace and the servants, and before she could move of a sudden one of +the men whispered: + +"The damn thing is harder'n hell, Lem. I guess I'll take a crack at this +here hinge." + +The name awoke the senses of the trembling girl, and instantly she knew +the man who had spoken to be Lon Cronk. A chill gathered round her heart +and froze the very marrow in her bones. She dropped the curtain and fled +back to her room. Standing against the door, she pressed her hands over +her face to stifle the loud breathing. Lem and Lon were robbing the +house! She would be forced then to let thieves have the contents of the +safe; for, if Pappy Lon knew that she and Flukey were housed there, he +would take them away. But, if he made off with the plate, no one would +ever know who had done it, and her sick brother would still be safe in +Ann's care. + +"I won't go to 'em. I won't! I won't! They can take the whole thing for +all of me!" + +She turned sharply as though she had heard a voice that had made answer +to her. With her faculties benumbed by the terror of the men in the +dining-room, and yet remembering that her grief had been subdued, she +turned her face upward, and fancied she saw the Christ-man, so like +Horace, descending into the room. But the face, instead of smiling at +her, looked melancholy and sad. + +It was the dawn of a lasting belief in the Son of God, her first real +vision of Him. She gazed steadily at the beautiful apparition, and then +said haltingly: + +"I'm goin' back to stop 'em, and if Pappy Lon takes me back to the +squatter settlement then help me if ye can, dear Jesus!" + +The struggle was over, and with rigid desperation Fledra again opened +the door and stepped into the hall. Gliding swiftly along to the +entrance of the dining-room, she flung aside the curtains and appeared +like a shade before Lem and Lon. + +The squatter saw her first; but in the semidarkness did not recognize +her. He lifted his arm, and a flash of steel sent her trembling +backward. + +"Don't open yer mug, Kid, or I'll shoot yer head off!" + +Then he recognized her, and stepped back to Lem's side. + +"It's Flea, it's Flea Cronk!" he gasped. + +The girl advanced into the room. + +"What do you want here, Pappy Lon? Did you come to steal?" + +She saw Lem grimacing at her through the rays of the lantern. The +scowman looked so evil, so awful, as he grinningly raised his steel +hook, that her faith very nearly fled. Crabbe's heavy face was working +with violent emotion. His full neck moved with horrid convulsions, while +a discord of low noises came from his throat. The girl, clad in her +white nightgown, under which he could trace the slender body, filled him +again with passionate longing. + +"By God! it's little Flea!" he exclaimed at last. + +"Yep," threw back Lon. "We found somethin' we didn't expect--eh, Lem?" + +"Did you come to steal?" Fledra demanded again, this time looking at the +canalman. + +"Yep; but we didn't know that you was here, Flea." + +"Then you won't take anything--now, will you?" + +"We don't go till you come with us, Flea!" Lon moved nearer her as he +spoke. "Ye be my brat, and ye'll come home with yer pappy!" + +Fledra choked for breath. + +"I can't go with you tonight," she replied, bending over in +supplication. "Flukey's sick here, and I have to stay." + +"Sick! Sick, ye say?" Cronk exclaimed. + +"Yes, he's been in bed ever since we left home, and he can't walk, and I +won't go without him." + +"I'll take ye both," said Lon ferociously. "I'll come after ye, and I'll +kill the man what keeps ye away from me! I'm a thinkin' a man can have +his own brats!" + +Fledra did not set up an argument upon this point. She wanted to get the +men out of the house, so that she might think out a plan to save her +brother and herself. + +"Ye'll have to let Flukey stay until he gets well, and then mebbe we'll +come back." + +"There ain't no mebbe about it," growled Lon. "Ye'll come when I say it, +and Lem ain't through with ye yet, nuther! Be ye, Lem?" + +Never, since the children had left his hut, had Lon felt such a desire +to torture them. The dead woman seemed to call out to him for revenge. +The wish for the Shellington baubles and the money he might find was +nothing compared to the delight he would feel in dragging the twins back +to Ithaca. Granny Cronk was there no longer, and everything would go his +way! He put out his hand and touched Crabbe. + +"We ain't goin' to steal nothin' in this house, Lem," he said sullenly; +"but I'll come tomorry and take the kids. Then we be done with this +town. Ye'll get yer brother ready by tomorry mornin'. Ye hear, Flea?" + +"Yes," answered Flea dully. + +"If Flukey be too sick to walk, he can ride. I've got the money, and all +I want be you two brats, and, if ye don't come when I tell ye to, then +it'll be worse for them what's harborin' ye. And don't ye so much as +breathe to the man what owns this house that we was here +tonight--or--I'll kill Flukey when I get him back to the shanty!" + +His glance took in the beautiful room, and, unable to suppress a smile, +he taunted: + +"I'm a thinkin' ye'll see a difference 'tween the hut and this +place--eh, Flea?" + +"And between this and the scow," chuckled Lem. + +"Yep, 'tween this an' the scow," repeated Lon. "Come on, Lem. We'll go +now, an' tomorry we'll come for ye, Flea. No man ain't no right to keep +another man's kids." + +Fledra's past experiences with her squatter father were still so vivid +in her mind that she made no further appeal to him; for she feared to +suffer again the humiliation of a blow before Lem. She stood near the +table, shivering, her teeth chattering, and her body swaying with fright +and cold. To whom did she dare turn? Not to Ann or to Horace; for Lon +had forbidden it. To tell Flukey would only make him very ill again. Lon +was advancing toward her as these thoughts raced through her mind. She +drew back when he thrust out one of his horny hands. + +"I ain't a goin' to hit ye, Flea; but I'm goin' to make ye know that I +ain't goin' to have no foolin', and that ye belong to me, and so does +Flukey, and that, when I come for ye, ye're to have yer duds ready." + +Lem neared the open window, and Lon turned to follow him. + + * * * * * + +For fully three minutes after they had gone, the girl stood watching the +black hole through which they had disappeared, where now the snow came +fluttering in. Then she crept forward and lowered the window +noiselessly. With swift footsteps she ran back through the hall and into +the bedroom. After turning on the light, she drew on a dressing-gown and +slipped her feet into a pair of red slippers. + +Somewhere from the story above came the sound of footfalls, and then +the creaking of stairs. The girl stood holding her hand over her beating +heart. A servant, or possibly Ann, had heard the noises and was coming +down. Suddenly into her mind came the prayer Floyd loved. + +"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, look upon a little child." + +She said the words over several times; but had ceased whispering when a +low knock came upon her door. She opened it, and saw Horace standing in +his dressing-gown and slippers. For a moment she looked at him with +almost unseeing eyes, and her lips moved tremulously, as if she would +speak and could not. Horace, noticing her agitation, spoke first. + +"Fledra, I thought I heard you. I looked down and saw a light shining +from your window. Is anything the matter?" + +Fledra could not find her voice to reply. She had not expected him, and, +locking her fingers tightly together, she stood wide-lidded and +trembling. + +"Were you speaking to someone?" asked Horace. + +"Yes, I was. I was speaking to Jesus just before you came. I was asking +Him to help me." + +The man looked at the red gown hanging over her white nightrobe, the +tossed black curls, and the pale, sensitive face before he said: + +"Fledra, whatever is the matter with you? Surely, there is something I +can do." + +"Sister Ann said I would be happier, and we all would, if I asked Jesus; +and I was askin' Him jest now." + +Horace eyed her dubiously. + +"It is right to ask Him to help you, of course; but, child, it isn't +right for you to act toward me as you do." + +Fledra was so desirous of his love and confidence that she made as if to +speak. She took two steps forward, then hesitated. Remembering Ann and +the care she had given Floyd, her hand fell convulsively on the door, +and she tried to close it. She dared not tell him of Lon's midnight +visit to the home, and wondered if he would give her up to her squatter +father, and let Flukey be taken back to the settlement. + +"I told ye the truth when I said I was prayin'," she said; "but I was +thinkin', too, if it was right for a father to have his own children, if +he was to ask for 'em." + +Horace, not understanding her enigmatical words, regarded her gravely. + +"What a queer girl you are, anyway, Fledra!" he exclaimed. He spoke +almost irritably. He felt like grasping her up and shaking her as one +might an obstreperous child. + +His moody silence made Fledra repeat her words. + +"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Horace answered; "but, I suppose, +if a father's children were being kept from him, he could take them if +he wished. Fledra, look at me!" + +She raised her gaze slowly, her somber eyes smiting the watching man as +might a blow. Her beseeching expression arrested the bitter speech that +rose to his lips. As the memory of her hard work gripped him, he bent +forward and took her slim, cold hand in his. + +"Fledra, I want you to pay attention to what I am going to say. I feel +sure that you want to be a good girl. If I were not, I could not bear +it. Even if you don't trust me, I'm going to help you all I can, +anyway." + +"And pray," gasped Fledra, "pray, Brother Horace, that I can be just +what you want me to be, and that I can stay with Floyd in your house!" + +The girl closed the door quickly in his face, and Shellington moved +slowly away, racking his brain for some solution of the problem. + +With their minds in a perturbed state, Lem and Lon passed silently back +into the cemetery. The shock of the girl's appearance had awed them +both. They were nearing the toolhouse before Scraggy came into Lem's +mind. + +The whole situation was changed, now that Flea was coming to him. It was +the same to him whether she wanted to come or not; nor did it matter +that he had promised Screech Owl that she should be in the scow. He +still wanted his boy to help him with his work; but Scraggy was a person +wholly out of his life. + +The two men halted in front of the shed. + +"There be a woman in there," said Lem in a low voice. + +"What woman?" asked Lon. + +"Scraggy." + +"Scraggy! How'd she come in here?" + +"I took her in," said Lem. "She were the woman what that guy throwed +over the fence." + +Lon pushed his companion aside and pressed through the small doorway. He +cast the light of the lantern about; but no Screech Owl was in sight. + +"If Scraggy was over here, Lem," he said doubtfully, "then she's gone. +We'd better scoot and get a place to stay all night." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY + + +When Fledra entered the breakfast room it was evident to both Ann and +Horace that she had had no sleep. Dark rings had settled under her eyes. +The girl had decided that Lon would make good his threat against the +person who should try to keep his children from him, and, if she went to +school, Lem and her father might come when she was gone. As they rose +from the table, she said sullenly: + +"I'm not goin' to school any more. I don't like that place. I want to +stay at home." + +"Are you ill, Dear?" asked Ann, coming forward. + +"No, I'm not sick; but I can't go to school." + +Horace's brow darkened. + +"That's hardly the way to speak to my sister, Fledra," he chided gently. + +Ann glanced at him in appeal. Fledra was standing before them, and her +eyes dropped under his words. + +"If I asked you to let me stay home," she said in a low tone, "you'd +both say I couldn't; so I just had to say that I won't go." + +Fledra knew no other way to stand guard over the houseful of loved ones. +If Lon were to come while she was gone, he might take her brother. If +she told Horace that thieves had entered his home, and if she named +them, that would draw fatal consequences down on Floyd. She could only +hold her peace and let matters take their course. At any rate, she did +not intend to go to school. Now she cast a quick glance at Ann; but kept +her eyes studiously from Horace. Noting Miss Shellington's entreating +face, Fledra flung out her hands. + +"I didn't want to be mean," she said quickly; "but I want you to let me +stay home today. Can I? Please, can I?" + +"There! I knew that you'd apologize to my sister," Horace said, smiling. + +At this, Fledra turned upon him. He had never felt a pair of eyes affect +him as did hers. How winsomely sweet she was! It came over him in a +flash that he had not dealt quite justly with her; so he smiled again +and held out his hands. + + * * * * * + +During the morning Fledra crept ghostlike about the house. She strained +her eyes, now at one window and then at another, for the first glimpse +of Lon. The luncheon hour came and passed, and still the thieves gave no +sign of coming. Horace had returned from his office early in the +afternoon, and was smoking a cigar in the library, when suddenly a loud +peal of the doorbell roused him. Fledra, too, heard it distinctly. She +was sitting beside Floyd; but had not dared to breathe their danger to +him. Her cheeks paled at the sound, and she rested silent until +presently summoned to the drawing-room. + +"What's the matter?" asked her brother. + +"Nothin', Fluke, lay down, and if ye hear anyone talkin' keep still. +Somebody's coming." + +"Somebody comes every day," answered Floyd. "That ain't nothin'. What ye +doin', Flea?" + +She was standing at the door with her ear to the keyhole. She heard the +servant pass her, heard the door open, and Lon's voice asking for Mr. +Shellington. Then she slid back to Flukey, trembling from head to foot. + +"Ye're sick, Dear," said the boy. "Get off this bed, Snatchet! Lay down +here by me, Flea and rest." + +The girl dropped down beside him and closed her eyes with a groan. Floyd +placed his thin hand upon her, and Fledra remained silent, until she was +summoned to the drawing-room. + + * * * * * + +"Who wanted me?" Horace asked the question of the mystified servant. + +"I didn't catch the name, Sir. I didn't understand it. He's a +dreadful-looking man." + +Horace rose, put down his cigar, and walked into the hall. + +Lon Cronk was waiting with a shabby cap in his hand. He bowed awkwardly +to Shellington, and essayed to speak; but Horace interrupted: + +"Do you wish to see me?" + +"Yep," answered Lon, glancing sullenly over the young lawyer. "I've come +for my brats." + +"Your what?" + +"My kids, Flea and Flukey Cronk." + +Horace felt something clutch at his heart. Fledra's radiant face rose +before his mental vision, and he swallowed hard, as he thought of her +relation to the brutal fellow before him. + +"Walk in here, please," he said. + +Then he bade the servant call his sister. + +Miss Shellington obeyed the summons so quickly that her brother was +indicating a chair for the squatter as she walked in. At sight of the +uncouth stranger she glanced about her in dismay. + +"Ann," said Horace, "this is the father--of--" + +Ann's expression snapped off his statement. She knew what he would say +without his finishing. She remembered the stories of terrible beatings, +and the story of Fledra's fear of a wicked man who wanted her for his +woman. The boy's words came back to her plainly. "And he weren't goin' +to marry her nuther, Mister, and that's the truth." Nevertheless, she +stepped forward, throwing a look from her brother to the squatter. + +"But he can't have them--of course, he can't have them!" + +Lon had come with a determination to take the twins peaceably if he +could; he would fight if he had to. He had purposely applied to +Shellington in his home, fearing that he might meet Governor Vandecar in +Horace's office. As long as everyone thought the children his, he could +hold to the point that they had to go back with him. He would make no +compromise for money with the protectors of his children; for he had +rather have their bodies to torment than be the richest man in the +state. He had not yet avenged that woman dead and gone so many years +back. At thought of her, he rose to his feet and smiled at Ann with +twitching lips. + +"Ye said, Ma'm, that I couldn't have my brats. I say that I will have +'em. I'm goin' to take 'em today. Do ye hear?" + +"He can't have them, Horace. Oh! you can't say yes to him!" + +Horace's mind turned back to Fledra, and he mentally blessed the +opportunity he had to protect her. + +"I don't think, Mr. Cronk, that you will take your children," he said, +"even granted that they are yours. I'm not sure of that yet." + +Lon's brown face yellowed. Had they discovered the secret that he had +kept all the dark, revengeful years? + +Horace's next words banished that fear: "I shall have to have you +identified by one of them before I should even, consider your +statement." + +Cronk smiled in relief; and Ann shuddered, as she thought of Flukey's +frail body in the man's thick, twisting fingers. + +"That be easy enough to do. Jest call the gal--or the boy." + +"The boy is too ill to get up," said Ann huskily; "and I beg of you to +go away and leave them with us. You don't care for them--you know you +don't." + +"Who said as how I don't care for my own brats?" + +"The little girl told me the night she came here that you hated her, and +also that you abused them." + +"I'll fix her for that!" muttered Lon. + +"I don't believe you'll touch her while she is with me," said Horace +hotly. "I shall send for the girl, and, if you are their father, then--" + +"They can't go!" cried Ann. + +"I haven't said that they could go, Ann. I was just going to say to Mr. +Cronk that if they wanted to go of course we couldn't keep them. +Otherwise, there is a remedy for him." Horace leaned over toward the +squatter and threw out his next words angrily, "There's the law, Mr. +Cronk! Ann, please call Fledra." + + * * * * * + +The girl responded with the weight of the world on her. Had some +arrangements been made for her and Floyd between Horace and Lon? She +knew that Ann was there, and that Mr. Shellington had been talking with +the squatter long enough to decide what should be done. She walked +slowly to the door, her head spinning with anxiety and fear. For one +single moment she paused on the threshold, then stepped within. + +Drop by drop, the color went from her cheeks, leaving them waxen white. +She threw the squatter an unbending opposing glance. + +"Did you come for Fluke and me, Pappy Lon?" she stammered. + +Her lips trembled perceptibly; but she went forward, and, taking Ann's +hand in hers, stood facing Cronk. + +Lon looked her over from head to foot. First, his gaze took in the +pretty dark head; then it traveled slowly downward, until for an instant +his fierce eyes rested on her small feet. + +"Yep," he replied, raising a swift look, "I comed for ye both--you and +Flukey, too. Go and git ready!" + +Fledra dared not appeal to Horace. He stood so quietly in his place, +making no motion to speak, that she felt positive that he wished her to +go away. She was too dazed to count up the sum of her troubles. Her face +fell into a shadow and grew immeasurably sad. Lon was glowering at her, +and she read his decision like an open page. The dreadful opposition in +his shaggy brown eyes spurred Fledra forward; but Ann's arms stole about +her waist, and the slender figure was drawn close. A feeling of +thanksgiving rushed over the girl. How glad she was that she had kept +the secret of Everett's unfaithfulness! + +"Sister Ann," she gasped, "can't ye keep us from him? Fluke nor me don't +want to go, and Pappy Lon don't like us, either. I couldn't go--I'd +ruther die, I would! He'd make me go to Lem's scow! Ye can see I can't +go, can't you?" She wheeled around and looked at Horace, her eyes filled +with a frightened appeal. Shellington's glance was compassionate and +tender. + +"I not only see that you can't go," said he; "but I will see to it that +you don't go. Mr. Cronk, I shall have to ask you to leave my house." + +"I don't go one step," growled Lon, "till I get them kids! Where's +Flukey?" He made a move toward the door; but Horace thrust his big form +in front of him. + +"The boy shall not know that you are here," said he. "I shall keep it +from him because he's ill, and because a great worry like this might +seriously harm him. It might even kill him." + +Lon's temper raced away with his judgment. + +"What do I care if he dies or not? I'm goin' to have him, dead or +alive!" + +Shellington noted the hatred and menace in the other's tones, and he +smiled in triumph. + +"It's about as I thought, Mr. Cronk. You care no more for these children +than if they were animals. That statement you just made will go against +you at the proper time, all right. Please go now, and remember what I've +said, that you have the law. And remember another thing: if you do +fight, I shall bring everything I can find against you, if I have to ask +the aid of Governor Vandecar. I see no other course open to you. +Good-day, Sir." + +Cronk glared about until his gaze rested upon the two girls. His eyes +pierced into the soul of Fledra. She shuddered and drew closer to Miss +Shellington. The squatter walked toward the door, and once more looked +back, an evil expression crossing his face and settling in deep lines +about his mouth. + +"Ye remember what I told ye, Flea, the last time I seed ye! I meant what +I said then, and I say it over again!" + +The emphasis upon the words struck terror to Fledra's sensibilities. +But, with new courage in her eyes, she advanced a step, and, raising a +set face, replied: + +"Ye can't have us, Pappy Lon--you can't! I'll take care of Flukey, and +Mr. Shellington'll take care--of--me." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE + + +Horace set his teeth firmly as he closed the door, upon Cronk. Through +the door window he saw the squatter take his lumbering way down the +steps, and noticed that the man paused and looked back at the house. The +heavy face was black with baffled rage, and Lon raised his fist and +shook it threateningly. If Horace had been determined in the first +instant that the squatter should not get possession of the twins, he was +now many times more resolute to keep to his decision. For his life, he +could not imagine Lon Cronk the father of his young charges. + +He returned to the drawing-room, and found Ann and Fledra still +together, the girl's face hidden in Miss Shellington's lap. + +"Horace," cried Ann, "there can't be any way in which he can take them, +can there? He didn't tell you how he found out they were here, did he?" + +"No, I forgot to ask him, and it doesn't matter about that. Our only +task now will be to keep them from him. Fledra, when you have finished +talking with Ann, will you come to me?" + +Fledra raised her head. Something in Horace's eyes frightened her. She +had never seen him so pale, nor had his lips ever been so set and white. + +Ann rose quickly. Of late Horace's actions had aroused her suspicions. +She was now fully convinced that Everett had been right. Moreover, she +had come to feel that she would willingly overlook Fledra's birth, if +her brother's intentions were serious. + +"Go to him now, and trust--have faith that you will not have to go +away!" + +Fledra kissed Ann's hands and tremblingly followed Shellington into his +study. + +She sat down without waiting for an invitation; for her legs seemed too +weak to hold her. Her attitude was attentive, and her poise was +graceful. For some minutes Horace arranged the papers on his desk, while +Fledra peeped at him from under her lashes. He looked even sterner than +when he had ordered Lon to leave the house, and his silence terrified +her more than if he had scolded her. At last he turned quickly. + +"Fledra, I've asked you to come here, because I can't stand our troubles +any longer. I believe in my soul that you love me; for you have told me +so, and--and have given me every reason to hope it. We are facing a new +danger, both for you and for Floyd, and I am sure you want to help me +all you can." He paused a moment, and went on, "Your suffering is over +as far as your own people are concerned. There is no law that can force +a child as old as you are to return to such a hateful place, and I shall +take it upon myself to see that neither you nor your brother is forced +to leave here." + +Fledra uttered a cry and half-rose to her feet; but, as Horace continued +speaking, she sank down. + +"I think it probable that we shall have to go to law, for Mr. Cronk +looks like a very determined man; but he'll find that I will fight his +claim every inch of the way." Shellington bent toward her and rested a +hand on the papers he had been sorting. "I'm very glad you didn't go to +school today, and you must not go again until it is over. This man may +try to kidnap you." He found it impossible to call Lon her father. + +Fledra reached out and grasped his hands. At her touch, Horace flushed +to the roots of his hair. Loosening his own fingers, he took hers into +his. Finally he drew her slowly round the corner of the desk, close into +his arms. + +"Fledra, for God's sake, tell me what has made you so unhappy! Will you, +child? Isn't it something that I ought to know? Poor little girly, don't +cry that way! It breaks my heart to hear you!" + +There was inexplicable weariness on the fair young face. + +"I want to stay here," moaned Flea; "but what I have that hurts me is +here." She drew his fingers close over her heart. "It isn't anything +anybody can help--just yet." + +"I could help you, Fledra," Horace insisted. "Every man has the power +to help the woman he loves, and you are a woman, Fledra." + +"I want to be your woman." + +Young as she was, Fledra was an enigma to him. There was but one way to +make her his woman,--his wife,--that was to force her confidence, and, +once obtained, keep it. But his longing to caress her was stronger than +his desire to conquer her,--the warmth and softness of her lips he would +not exchange for the world's wealth! + +"Sweetheart, Sweetheart!" he said, reddening. "I'm sorry that I spoke as +I did last night,--I was angry,--but I've had such awful moods lately! +Sometimes I've felt as if I could whip you to make you tell me!" + +A thrill ran over Fledra from head to foot. + +"Beat me--will you beat me?" she murmured, drawing his hand across her +moist lips. "I'd love to have you beat me! Pappy Lon always said that a +woman needed beatin' to make her stand around. Then, when I saw you, I +thought as how princes never beat their women; but now I know you have +to." + +If the young face had been less earnest, the gray eyes less entreating, +Horace would have laughed despite his anger. + +"Of course, I shan't whip you, child," he said; "only I want you to +prove your love for me by trusting me. You're a woman, Fledra. It would +be an outrage to punish you that way. Then, too, I love you too well to +hurt you." + +She watched him for one tense moment. She was quivering under his firm +grasp like a leaf in the wind. Her eyes were entreating him to trust +her, to take her, regardless of her seeming stubbornness. + +"Fledra," he whispered, "if the time ever comes that you can, will you +tell me all about it?" + +"Yes." + +"And you'll not lie again?" + +"I've never lied to you!" came sullenly. + +"Never, Fledra?" + +"Never!" + +"And you won't tell another untruth to Ann, either--- not even once?" + +Fledra's mind flashed to Everett. She might have to lie to keep Ann's +happiness for her. She slowly drew her hand away, and turned fretfully +with a hatred against Brimbecomb for bringing all this misery upon them. + +"I'm not going to promise you that I won't lie to Sister Ann; but I'll +tell you the truth, always--always--" + +Because he did not understand a woman's heart, Horace opened the door, +white and angered. + +"It is beyond my comprehension that you should treat a woman as you have +my sister. You take advantage of her generosity, and expect me to uphold +you in it!" + +There was a catch of genuine sorrow in his voice. Slowly Fledra looked +back over her shoulder at him. + +"You've promised me that you'd never tell anybody what I told you." + +Horace supplemented his last rebuke with: + +"Nor will I! But I insist that you come to me the next time you are +tempted to lie. Do you hear, Fledra?" + +"Yes," she answered. + +Suddenly she began to sob wildly, and in another instant fled down the +hall. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO + + +Not more than two weeks after Lon had demanded the twins from Horace, +Everett Brimbecomb sat in his office, brooding over the shadow that had +so suddenly darkened his life. The dream he had dreamed of a woman he +could call Mother, of some man--his father--of whom he had striven to be +worthy, had dissolved into a specter with a shriveled face and shaggy +hair, into a woman whom he had left in the cemetery to die. Although he +was secure in the thought that he would not be connected with the +tragedy, he shuddered every time he thought of her and of the coming +spring, when the body would be discovered. He did not repent the crime +he had committed; but the fear that the secret of his birth would be +brought to life tortured him night and day. He remembered that Scraggy +had said his father wanted him; that she had come to Tarrytown to take +him back. Did his father know who and where he was? If so, eventual +discovery was inevitable. + +Everett's passion for Fledra only heightened his misery, and the girl's +face haunted him continually. In his imagination he compared her with +Ann, and the younger girl stood out in radiant contrast. He had daily +fostered his jealous hatred for Horace, and, because of her allegiance +to her brother, he had come to loathe Ann, although he was more than +ever determined to marry her. The home in which he had been reared +repelled him, and he could now live only for the fame that would rise +from his talent and work, and for the pleasures that come to those +without heart or conscience. Almost the entire morning had been +consumed by these thoughts, when two men were ushered in to him. + +"I'm Lon Cronk," said the taller of the two, "and this be Lem Crabbe, +and we hear that ye're a good lawyer." + +Everett rose frowningly. + +"I am a lawyer," said he; "but I choose my clients. I don't take +cases--" + +"We'll pay ye well," interrupted Lon, "if it's money ye want. Ye can +have as much as that Mr. Shellin'ton--" + +Everett dropped back again into his chair. The mention of Horace's name +silenced him. He motioned for the men to be seated, without taking his +eyes from Lem. The scowman's clothes were in shreds, and, as he lifted +his right arm, Brimbecomb saw the chapped red flesh, strapped to the +rusted iron hook. Although Lem had not spoken, the young lawyer noted +the silent convulsions going on in the dark, full throat, the unceasing +movements of the goiter. + +"State your case to me, then," said he tersely. + +Lon Cronk settled back and began to speak. + +"There's a man here in this town by the name of Shellington. He's a +lawyer, too, and he's got my kids, and I want 'em. That's my case, +Mister." + +Brimbecomb's heart began to beat tumultuously. Chance was giving him a +lead he could not have won of his own efforts, and he smiled, turning on +Cronk more cordially. + +"Have you demanded your children of Mr. Shellington?" he asked. + +"Yep." + +Everett bent over eagerly. + +"What did he say to you?" + +"He says as how I could go to the devil, and that I could git the law +after him if I wanted 'em. Can I get 'em, Mister?" + +The lawyer straightened up, and for many moments was deep in thought +before answering Lon. The chance of which he could never have dreamed +had come to him. This visit laid open a way for him to tear Fledra from +Horace; in fact, he could now legally take her from him with no +possibility of public discredit to himself. He narrowly observed the men +before him, and knew that he should later be able to force them to do as +he wished. He forgot his foster father and mother--aye, forgot even +Ann--as all that was black in his nature inflamed his desire for the +ebony-haired girl. + +During several minutes he rapidly planned how he could bring the affair +to a favorable climax with the least possible danger. But, whether by +fair means or by foul, he resolved that Fledra should become his. + +Presently, as if to gain time, he asked: + +"Do you want them both?" + +"Yep." + +"The boy is ill, I hear," he said. + +"That don't make no difference," cried Lon. "I want him jest the same. +Can ye get 'em fer me, Mister?" + +"I think so," replied Everett; "and, if I take the case, I shall have to +ask you to keep out of it entirely, until I'm ready for you. We shall +probably have to go into court." + +"Yep, ye'll have to bring it into court, all right, I know ye will. How +much money do ye want now?" + +"Fifty dollars," replied Everett; "and it will be more if I have a suit, +and still more if I win. Come here again next week Monday, and I'll lay +my plans before you." + +Lon clapped his shabby cap upon his head, and, with a surly +leave-taking, moved to go. Lem lagged behind; but a glance at the +lawyer's forbidding face sent him shuffling after the squatter. + + * * * * * + +Long after they were gone Everett sat planning a future course. He felt +sure that Horace would not allow the children to be taken from him +without a fight; he knew there were special statutes governing these +things, and took down a large book and began to read. + +Much to his satisfaction, Brimbecomb found a letter from Mr. and Mrs. +Brimbecomb awaiting him at home that evening. In it his foster mother +informed him that they had decided to return to Tarrytown immediately +and make ready for a trip abroad, where they hoped that Mr. Brimbecomb +would recover his health. In a postscript from the noted lawyer, Everett +read: + + I am glad that you are doing well, dear boy, and when my doctor said + that I must have a complete rest I knew that I could leave you in + charge of the office and go away satisfied. + +There followed a few personalities, and after finishing the reader threw +it down with a smile. He had hesitated a moment over the thought that +his father would have a decided objection to the Cronk case. But his +desire to work against Horace had overcome his irresolution. Now his way +was clear! The sooner Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb were away, the better +pleased he would be. + + * * * * * + +Floyd was suddenly taken worse. + +"I think, if you were to come and speak with him, he might feel better," +said Ann to Horace. "He wants to see you. Fledra is with him." + +Floyd was quiet now, his large eyes closed with quivering pain. + +"Floyd!" murmured Horace, touching the lad gently. + +The lids lifted, and he put up his hand. + +"I'm glad ye come, Brother Horace," he said in a whisper. "I've been +wantin' to talk to ye. Will ye take Flea out, Sister Ann?" + +Both girls left the room, as Horace drew a chair to the bed. + +"I ain't goin' to get well," said Flukey slowly. "I know the doctor +thinks so, too, 'cause he said there was somethin' the matter with my +heart. And I have to go and leave Flea." + +Shellington took the thin, white hand in his. + +"You must not become downhearted, boy; that's not the way to get well. +And you're certainly better than when you came, in spite of this little +setback." + +Floyd closed his eyes, and Horace saw silent tears rolling down the +boy's cheeks. The young man bent over him. + +"Floyd, are you worrying about your sister?" + +Flukey nodded an affirmative. + +"Why?" + +"Because she ain't the same as she was. And she ain't happy any more, +and I can't make her tell me. Have ye been ugly to her--have ye?" + +Horace racked his mind for a truthful answer. Had he been unfair to +Fledra? + +"Floyd," he said softly, "your sister and I have had some words; but we +shall soon understand each other--I know we shall!" + +"What did ye say to Flea?" + +"I can't tell you, Floyd, because I promised her I would not." + +The boy writhed under the warm blankets. + +"She's always makin' folks promise not to tell things," he moaned. "It's +because you're mad at her, that's what makes her cry so, and I can't do +anything for her. Can't you, Brother Horace?" + +"She won't let me, Floyd." + +"Did ye ask her?" + +"Many times." + +"Would she let ye if I asked her?" + +"No, Floyd, you must not! I promised her that I would not speak with you +about her unhappiness." Horace ejaculated his reply so emphatically that +Floyd looked at him curiously. + +"But I can't die and leave her that way, and I'm a goin' soon. Sometimes +my heart jest stands still, and won't start again till I lose all my +breath. A feller can't live that way, can he, Brother Horace?" + +"It will pass off; of course, it will--it must!" Horace looked into the +worn, suffering young face, and a resolution took possession of him. + +"Floyd," he said huskily, "Floyd, if I tell you something, will you keep +it from my sister and yours?" + +"Yes," murmured Flukey. + +"I love Fledra, and want to make her my wife. Does that help you any, to +know that I shall always watch her and care for her?" + +Flukey searched the earnest face bent over him. + +"Ye love her?" + +"Very much, very much indeed. But she is young yet--only a little girl." + +"Did ye tell her that ye loved her?" + +"Yes." + +"Did she say she loved you?" + +"Yes." + +Flukey groaned. + +"Then it's something else than that, because I've known for a long time +that Flea loved ye. What's the matter? What's the matter with ye both?" + +"Floyd, when I tell you that I do not know," answered Horace, "will you +believe me?" + +"Did ye want her to tell ye somethin'--something that'll keep ye from +takin' her now?" Horace's silence drew an outpouring from Flukey. "And I +suppose she said she wouldn't--and ye won't take her unless she tells +ye. Then ye'll never get her; for, when Flea says she won't, she won't, +if she dies for it! Ain't ye lovin' her well enough to take her, +anyway?" + +Horace answered warmly, "Yes, of course, I am!" + + * * * * * + +By the dawn of day Floyd had become so much worse that a trained nurse +was placed at his side, and the physician's verdict, that the boy might +die at any moment, overshadowed the threats of the squatter father. + + * * * * * + +Lon Cronk had come alone to Everett's office on the hour set. Brimbecomb +wondered vaguely where the other man was, and what was his concern in +the affair. + +After greeting Lon coldly, the young lawyer said: + +"I should like to know about your life, Mr. Cronk, how long your +children have been away from you, and all about it." + +"They've been gone since September," replied Lon. "They runned away from +hum, and I ain't seed 'em till I found out that they was at +Shellington's." + +"And how did you discover them?" + +"Saw Flea goin' up the steps," lied Cronk. "I knowed her the minute I +see her, in spite of her pretty clothes." + +"Then you applied to Mr. Shellington for them?" + +"Yep." + +"And he refused to deliver them up?" + +"Yep--damn him! But I'll take 'em, anyway." + +"Don't say that outside my office," warned Everett. "The law does not +want to be threatened." + +Lon remained silent. + +"We'll have to deal with Mr. Shellington very carefully," cautioned the +lawyer; "for he is proud and stubborn, and has a great liking for your +children. In fact, I think he is quite in love with the girl." + +Lon started to his feet, his swart face paling. + +"He won't git her!" he muttered. "I've got plans for that gal, and I +ain't goin' have no young buck kickin' 'em over, I kin tell ye that!" + +Brimbecomb's words put a new light upon the matter. That Flea would be +protected by the young millionaire Lon knew; but that the young man +thought of marrying her had never come into his mind. + +"I don't believe as how he'd marry a squatter girl," he said presently. +"He won't, if I get her once to Ithaca!" + +The mention of Brimbecomb's college town and birthplace brought a new +train of thought to the lawyer. + +"Have you lived in Ithaca many years?" he demanded. + +"Yep." + +"The first thing I shall do," said the attorney deliberately, "is to +make a formal demand upon Mr. Shellington in your name, and get his +answer. Please remain in town where I can see you, and if anything comes +up I shall write you." + +Lon gave him the address of a man near the river, and Everett allowed +his client to go. Some force within him had almost impelled him to ask +the squatter concerning Screech Owl, and he breathed more freely when he +thought that he had not given way to the temptation to learn something +about his own people. + + * * * * * + +At eight o'clock that evening Everett met Mr. and Mrs. Brimbecomb at the +station. He could not comprehend the feeling that his foster parents had +become strangers to him. He kissed his mother, shook hands with Mr. +Brimbecomb, and followed them into the carriage. + +He went to bed content with the knowledge that their steamer would sail +two days later, and that for six months he would be alone. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE + + +"I can't understand why Horace wants to keep those children +indefinitely," said Governor Vandecar to his wife one evening. "It seems +their own father has turned up and asked for them." + +"Is Horace going to let him have them?" + +"Not without a fight, I fear. He talked to me about it, and seemed +perfectly decided to keep them. I told him to take no steps until papers +were served upon him." + +"Can they keep them, Floyd?" + +Mrs. Vandecar had become suddenly interested in Fledra and Floyd. + +"I'm sure I don't know," replied the governor. "Such things have to be +threshed out in court, although much will depend upon what the +youngsters wish to do. I fear, though, that Ann and Horace are making +useless trouble for themselves." + +"What process will the father have to take to get them?" + +"Have _habeas corpus_ papers issued. It will be a nuisance; but I did +not try to change his mind, because he was so earnest about it." + +"So is Ann," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and then, Dear, I always think +their kindness to those poor little children might make the little dears +useful in life sometime. Mildred says they are very pretty and sweet." + +"Well, as I said before, it's strange that such a case should be here in +this peaceful little town, and I have promised Horace to advise him all +I can, although I am too busy to take any active part in it." + +"Oh, do everything you ought to, Floyd, if you discover that they have +really been abused. It might be that they would be really harmed if they +were taken back to their home. Did Horace tell you where they lived?" + +"Yes, near Ithaca somewhere. I think he said they had a shanty on Cayuga +Lake." + +"One of the squatters?" + +"Yes." + +"I remember very well," remarked Mrs. Vandecar after a moment's thought, +"when I went to Ithaca with Ann Shellington, and Horace and Everett were +graduated from the university, that we went up the lake in Brimbecomb's +yacht. The boys called our attention to numbers of huts on the west +shore, near the head of Cayuga. I suppose it must be one of those places +the children left." + +"I presume so," replied the governor. + +"Ann telephoned over that the boy was ill with a rheumatic heart. She +seemed quite alarmed over it." + +"He probably won't get well, if that's the case," murmured Vandecar. +"It's a pernicious thing when it attacks the heart. Wasn't it rather +strange that Ann and Horace should have used our names for them, +Fledra?" + +"You remember Ann asked me if I cared. She said that when they came they +had some strange nicknames, and that they wanted to make them forget +about their former lives, and it really pleased the poor little things +to have our names. I don't mind; do you, Floyd?" + +"No," was the answer. "I only wish--" He stopped quickly and turned to +his wife. + +Her eyes were filled with tears. Floyd Vandecar's wish had been her own, +that she knew. + +"I wish you had a son, too, Floyd dear!" she sobbed. "Oh, my babies, my +poor, pretty little babies!" + +"Don't Fledra, don't!" pleaded her husband. "It was God's will, and we +must bow to it." + +"It's so hard, though, Floyd, so awfully hard, and the days have been so +long! Floyd, do you ever wonder and wonder where they are?" + +The man shook his shoulders sharply. + +"Do I ever wonder, Fledra? My hair is whitened, my life shortened, and +many of my efforts of no avail, because of my sorrow and yours. If the +days have been long to you, they have been longer to me; if your heart +has been torn over their disappearance, mine has been doubly hurt, +because--because you have depended upon me to return them to you, and I +have not been able to." + +He spoke drearily, shading his face with his hand. + +"Floyd, dear Floyd, I'm not blaming you. I realize that if it had been +possible you would have given me back my babies, and you must not say +that your efforts have been of no avail. Why, dear husband, the papers +are full of your great, strong doings. I'm immensely proud of you." She +had leaned over him; but the despondent man did not take the hand from +his eyes. + +"Of all the strange cases, Fledra, ours is the strangest. You remember +how I turned the state almost upside down to find those children. Yet, +with all the power I could bring to bear, I made no headway." + +"I did not realize that you felt it so deeply," whispered the wife. +"I've been so selfish--forgive me! We'll try to be as happy as possible, +and we have Mildred--" + +"If we had a dozen children," replied the governor sadly, "our first +babies would always have their places in our hearts." + +"True," murmured the mother. "How true that is, Floyd! There is never a +day but I feel the touch of their fingers, remember their sweet baby +ways. And always, when I look at you, I think of them. They were so like +their father." + +Lon Cronk and Lem Crabbe had arranged between them that the scowman +should return to Ithaca for some days, and so the big thief was alone +near the Hudson, in a shanty that had been given over to him by a canal +friend to use when he wished. When Lon decided to rob Horace +Shellington, he had known that there would have to be some place to take +the things thus obtained, and had secured the hut for the purpose. It +was at this address that Everett came to him, upon his return from New +York. + +Lon admitted the lawyer, who found the hut reeking with the rank smoke +from a short pipe that Cronk held in his hand. + +"Have ye got the kids?" the squatter questioned. + +Everett catechized the heavy face with a smile. + +"Did you think for a moment it was possible to obtain them so quickly?" + +"I hain't had no way of knowin'," grunted Lon, "and I'm in a hurry." + +He seemed changed, and looked as if he had not slept. Everett wondered +if his affection for the children had been so great that his loss of +them had altered him thus. The lawyer did not know how Lon was tortured +when he caressed the image of the dead woman, nor could he know the +man's agony when her spirit left him suddenly. + +"You'll have to curb your haste," said Brimbecomb, with a curl of his +lip. "It takes time to set justice in motion." + +"Have ye done anything?" + +"Not yet. I was forced to go to New York." + +"Hadn't ye better git a hustle on yerself?" snarled Lon. + +"Yes, I intend to begin tomorrow; that is, to take the first steps in +the matter. But I wanted to talk with you first. Are you alone?" + +"Yep; there ain't nobody here. Fire ahead, and say what ye're wantin' +to." + +Everett bent over and looked keenly into Lon's face; then slowly he +threw a question at the fellow: + +"Are you fond of those two children, or have you other motives for +taking them from Shellington?" + +Cronk made no reply, but settled back in the rickety chair and eyed +Everett from head to foot. + +"Be that any of yer business?" he said at length. + +The lawyer took the repulse calmly. He had not come to fight with Lon. + +"It's my business as far as this is concerned. If you care for them, and +intend to shield them after you have them--well, say from all harm--and +do your best for them, then I don't want your case. I'm willing to +return your money." + +For a moment the elder man looked disconcerted; then he jumped to his +feet with an oath. + +"Put her there, Mister!" said he, with an evil smile. He thrust forth a +great hand, and for an instant Everett placed his fingers within it. + +"I thought I had not guessed wrongly," the lawyer quickly averred. "If +that is how you feel, I can do better work for you." + +"I see that, Mister," muttered Lon. + +"Are those children really yours?" Everett took out a cigar and lighted +it. + +"Yep," answered Lon, dropping his gaze. + +Everett decided that the man had lied to him, and he was glad. + +"I think you said you had some plans for the girl," he broke forth +presently. + +"Yep; but no plans be any good when she's with Shellington." + +"But after she has left him? Would you be willing to change your plans +for her?" + +Cronk did not reply, but centered his gaze full upon Everett. + +"The question is, would you, for a good sum of money, be willing to give +her to me?" + +"Why give her to ye, Mister--why?" His voice rose to a shout. + +"I want her," Everett answered quietly. + +"What for?" + +"I love her." + +"Ye want to marry her?" muttered Lon vindictively. + +"No," drawled Everett; "I am going to marry Miss Shellington." + +"Good God! ye don't mean it! And yet ye take this case what's most +interestin' to 'em? Yer gal won't like that, Mister." + +"She loves me, and when I explain that it's all under the law she'll +forgive me. There's nothing quite like having a woman in love with you +to get her to do what you want her to." + +"But her brother, he ain't lovin' ye that way. He won't forgive ye." + +"He doesn't cut any ice," said Everett. "In fact, I hate him, and--" + +"Be ye lovin' my Flea?" Lon's voice cracked out the question like a +gunshot. + +"I think so." + +"Be Flea lovin' you, or him?" + +"She loves him." + +"Then it will hurt her like the devil to take her away from him, eh?" + +The eagerness expressed in the squatter's tones confirmed Everett's +suspicions. Cronk hated that boy and girl. Brimbecomb impassively +overlooked Floyd; but Flea he would have! + +"Yes," he said, "I think it will hurt them both." + +"How much money will ye give if I hand her over to ye?" asked Cronk +presently. + +"How much do you want?" + +"Wal, Mister, it's this way: Ye remember that feller I had with me +t'other day?" Everett nodded. "I mean, the feller with the hook?" Again +Everett inclined his head. "I said as how he could have Flea. Ye has to +buy him off, too, and that ain't so easy as 'tis to settle with +me--especially, as ye ain't goin' to marry Flea. I ain't goin' to give +her to no man what's honest--ye hear?" + +"I supposed as much," commented Everett, reddening. + +"Lem's been waitin' for Flea for over three years, and I said as how +ye'd have to buy him off, too." + +"That's easy. Where is he?" + +"Gone to Ithaca. He's went up to bring down his scow. It's gettin' 'long +to be spring, and it's easier to lug the kids back by water, and we know +that way, and it don't cost so much. I telled him when he went away that +he could have the gal as soon as we got back to the settlement. Lem +won't reason for a little bit of money." + +"Money doesn't count in this," assured Everett. "Now, then, if I take +this case, put it through without cost to you, and give you both a good +sum, will you give me the girl?" + +"If ye promise me ye won't marry her." + +Everett laughed, his white teeth gleaming through his lips. + +"Don't let that worry you, Mr. Cronk. I have no desire to place at the +head of my home a girl like yours. I told you that I was going to marry +Miss Shellington--and not even that damned brother of hers can prevent +it!" + +For a long time after Everett had left the hut Lon sat meditating over +what he had heard. He wondered if Everett really loved Ann, and, if he +did, how he could wish for Flea. How another woman could erase from any +man's mind the picture of a loved woman, Lon with his loyal heart could +not understand. He sat for an hour with his head on the old wooden +table, and planned what he should do with Flukey, leaving it to the +brilliant-eyed lawyer to dicker with Lem for Flea. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR + + +Horace Shellington took a long breath as he entered his office one +morning in the latter part of March. The blustering wind that had raged +all night had almost subsided, and he felt glad for Floyd's sake; for, +no matter how warm they kept the little lad, the sound of the wind +through the trees and the dismal wail of the branches at night made him +shiver and fret with nervous pain. Horace had scarcely seated himself +when Everett Brimbecomb entered the room. + +"Hello, Horace!" said the latter jovially. "I was going to come in +yesterday, but was not quite ready to see you. Haven't been able to get +a word with you in several days." + +Horace offered a chair, and Everett sank into it. + +"You are always so busy when I run in to see Ann," Brimbecomb went on, +"that one would think you were not an inmate of that house." + +"Yes," said Horace, "I've been studying up on an interesting case I +expect to handle very soon." + +Everett laughed. + +"So have I," he said, narrowing his lids and looking at Shellington. + +"When one is connected with offices as we are, Everett," remarked Horace +uninterestedly, "there is little time for visiting." + +"I find that, too," replied Everett. + +During the last few weeks Horace had seen little of his sister's fiance; +in fact, since their quarrel he had drawn away from the young man as a +companion; but above everything else he desired his gentle sister to be +happy, and the man before him was the only one to make her so. He +thought of this, and smiled a little more cordially as he said: + +"Is there anything I can do for you, Everett?" + +"Well, yes, there is," admitted Brimbecomb. + +"I'll do anything I can," replied Horace heartily. + +Brimbecomb hesitated before going on. Shellington looked so grave, so +dignified, so much more manly than he had ever seen him, that he +scarcely dared open his subject. + +"It's something that may touch you at first, Horace," he explained; +"but--" + +Horace, unsuspicious, bent forward encouragingly: + +"Go ahead," he said. + +Everett flushed and looked at the floor. + +"A case has just come into our office, and, as my father is gone from +home, I have taken it on." + +Horace listened expectantly. Everett could have struck the man in the +face, he hated him so deeply. He groaned mentally as he thought of +Scraggy and her wild-eyed cat and of his endeavor to close her lips as +to her relation to him. It was a great fear within him that soon his +father would appear as his mother had. The time might come when this +haughty man before him would have reason to look upon him with contempt. +To make Horace understand his present power was the one thought that now +dominated him. + +With this in mind, he began to speak again: + +"A man came to us with a complaint that you were keeping his children +from him." + +If Horace had received the blow the other longed to give, he could not +have been more shocked. + +"I believe his name is Cronk," went on Everett, taking a slip from his +pocket; "yes, Lon Cronk." + +Horace took his paper-knife from the table and twirled it in his +fingers. His face had grown ashen white, his lips were set closely over +his teeth. + +"I have met this Cronk," he said in a low tone. + +"So I understand. He told me that he had been at your home, and had +demanded his children, and that you had refused to give them up." + +"I did!" There was no lack of emphasis in the words. + +"And you said that he could not have them unless he went to law for +them." + +"I did!" said Horace again. + +"And he came to me." + +Horace rose to his feet, a deep frown gathering on his brow. Everett +rose also, and the two men faced each other for a long moment. + +"And you took the case?" Horace got out at last. + +"Yes, I took the case," Everett replied. + +"And yet you knew that Ann loved them?" + +"I was--was sure that if you both understood--" + +The speaker's hesitation brought forth an ejaculation from Shellington. + +"What are we to understand?" + +"That justice must be done the father," responded Everett quickly. + +Horace squared his jaw and snapped out: + +"Do I understand that, in spite of the near relationship of our family, +you are willing to deal a blow to my sister and me that, if it falls, +will be almost unbearable? You intend to fight with this squatter for +his children?" + +"I don't intend to fight, Horace, if you're willing to give them to me. +I had much rather have our present relations go on as they are, without +a breach in them. I think, if you and Ann talk it over, you will see +that by giving the boy and girl into my hands--" + +Horace came a step nearer, with darkening brow: + +"You can go straight to hell!" he said, so fiercely that Everett started +back. "And the sooner you go, the better I shall be pleased," his face +reddened as he finished, "and so will Ann!" + +"You're speaking for someone who has not given you authority," Everett +sneered. "Your sister will give me at least one of those children--I +imagine, the girl. I think the father is more particular about having +her." + +"I should think he would be, and you may take him this message from me: +that, if he sneaks about my house at any time of day or night, I'll have +him shot like a dog, for every man can protect his own; and if you--" + +Everett, seeing his chance, broke in: + +"He would be protecting his own, if he came to your home, for his own +are there; and we are going to have those children before another month +goes by!" + +"Try it, and perhaps I may bring to your mind what you once said to me +about that girl," muttered Horace, with set teeth. "Your errand being +finished, Mr. Brimbecomb, you may go!" + +Everett had received the worst of the encounter. He had expected that +Horace would consider Fledra's and Floyd's case in a gentler way, would +probably compromise for Ann's sake. He went out not a little disturbed. + + * * * * * + +Horace waited for a few moments after Brimbecomb left him before he took +his hat and coat and went home. Ann was surprised to see him, and more +surprised when he drew her into the drawing-room, where he mysteriously +closed the door. + +"Ann," he said solemnly, "I believe the turning point in your life has +come. And I want you to judge for yourself and take your own stand +without thinking of my happiness or comfort." + +The young woman lifted startled eyes and searched his face. + +"What is it, Horace--that squatter again? Has he made a move against +us?" + +Horace bent over and took her hands in his. + +"He has not only made a move against us, as far as the children are +concerned, but he has used an instrument you would never have dreamed +of." Seeing his sister did not reply, he went on, "Just what legal +procedure they will undertake I don't know; but that will come out in +time. Cronk went to Everett Brimbecomb with the case, and I was notified +this morning by Everett to give up the children." + +"Everett!" breathed Ann, disbelieving. "My Everett?" + +"Yes, your Everett, Ann. Don't, child, please don't! Ann, Ann, listen to +me!... Yes, sit down.... Now wait!" + +He held her closely in his arms until the storm of sobs had passed, and +then placed a pillow under her head and went on gravely: + +"Ann, I have come to this conclusion: you love Everett dearly, and I +cannot understand his actions; but I'm not going to intrude upon your +affection for him, nor his for you. I'm going to ask you not to take +sides with either of us. I'm a lawyer, and so is he. Do you understand, +Ann?" + +Fearfully she clutched his fingers. + +"But Fledra and Floyd--I can't let them go back, I can't! I can't!" + +"They're not going back," said Horace firmly. "Mind you, Ann, even to +renew my friendship with Brimbecomb, I shouldn't give them up." + +"Renew your friendship!" gasped Ann. "Oh, have you quarreled with him, +Horace?" + +"Yes, and told him to leave my office." + +Ann sobbed again. + +"What a fearful tragedy is hanging over us!" she cried. + +"It is worse than I imagined it could be," Horace declared; "much worse, +for I never thought that the squatter could get a reputable firm to +represent him. And as for Everett--well, he never entered my mind. I +told him that he could not take those children, and that he might--" + +He remembered plainly what he had said, but did not communicate it to +his sister. She was so frail, so gently modest, that an angry man's +language would hurt her. + +"I told him," ended Horace, "to do whatever he thought best, and that, +if Cronk came here again, I should shoot him down like a dog. I think we +ought to tell Fledra, and then, too, I desire to speak to her of +something else. Can you bring her to me, Ann, without frightening +Floyd?" + + * * * * * + +It did not need Ann's quiet plucking at her sleeve to tell Fledra that +the blow had fallen. She had expected it day after day; until now, when +she faced Horace and looked into his tense face, she felt that her whole +hope had gone. + +Ann tiptoed out before her brother opened his lips. + +For a moment the harassed man knew not what to say to the silent, +trembling girl. + +"Fledra," he began, "the first move has been made in your case by your +father." + +"Must we go?" burst from the quivering lips. + +"No, no: not if you have told me the truth about your past life--I mean +about your father being cruel to you." + +The sensitive face gathered a deep flush: + +"I've never lied to you, Brother Horace," she replied gently. + +"If I could believe you, child, if I could place absolute confidence in +your word, I should have courage to go into the struggle without losing +hope." + +"What's Pappy Lon done?" + +"He has employed Everett Brimbecomb to take you back to Ithaca." + +Fledra shrank back as if he had struck her. Swiftly into her mind came +the smiling, handsome face of the lawyer whom Ann loved. His brilliant +eyes seared her soul like fire. In all her life, even when facing Lem +Crabbe, she had never felt as she did now. She saw Floyd fading into the +graveyard beyond, while she was being torn from the only haven of rest +she had ever known. Lem Crabbe could not have taken her; but Everett +Brimbecomb could! She felt again his burning kisses, the clasp of his +strong arms, and her own disgust. He seemed a giant of strength, and +Horace's white face and set lips aggravated her fear. Fledra's desire +for comfort had never been so great as the desire she had at this moment +to open her tired heart to Horace and reveal to him Everett's perfidy. + +"Did you tell Sister Ann about Mr. Brimbecomb?" + +She stumbled over the name. + +"Yes." + +"What did she say?" + +"My sister loves him--you know that. She is heartbroken that he should +have accepted this case. We must make it as easy as we can for her, dear +child." + +The girl saw Horace's lips twitch as he spoke, and thought of the love +he had for his sister, and her desire to tell him what she knew died +immediately. + +"Do you want me to go with Pappy Lon and not make any trouble for her?" +she whispered. + +"No, no, not that! You can't go, Fledra, and they can't take you, +if--you have told me the truth about the man your father wanted to give +you to." + +"Floyd and I told the truth," she said seriously, lifting her eyes to +his face; "but for Sister Ann I'd go away with Pappy Lon, and with Lem, +if you'd take care of Fluke till he--" + +"Don't, Fledra, don't!" groaned Horace. "It would tear me to pieces to +give you up. But--but you couldn't relieve my mind, Dear, could you?" + +Fledra knew what he meant, and shook her head. + +"No, not now," she replied. + +If it troubled Ann to have Everett take part in their going back to the +squatter country, how much worse she would feel if she knew what he +really had done! Horace's appeal to shield Ann from overmuch burden +strengthened Fledra's courage. + +"Can you keep us?" she asked, after a moment's thought. + +"I am going to try." + +"If you love me well, Brother Horace," said Fledra, "won't you believe +that I'd do anything for Sister Ann and you?" + +He nodded his head; but did not speak. + + * * * * * + +When he reached Ithaca, Lem Crabbe found a flood besieging the forest +city. The creeks of Cascadilla and Six Mile Gorge had overflowed their +banks, and the lower section of the town was under water. He had come +back for the scow, and to find Scraggy. He was determined to force from +her the whereabouts of his son. He wended his way toward the hut of one +of his friends at the inlet, and hailed the boat that conveyed the +squatters to and fro in flood-time. As the boat lapped the muddy water +breaking into the weeds and brushes, Lem saw Eli Cronk perched in +another boat, with a spear in his hand. + +"Eli!" shouted Lem. + +Eli greeted him with a wave of the pole. + +The boats neared each other, and Lem shouted that he wanted to get into +Cronk's craft. + +"What ye doin'?" asked Crabbe, as the boat he had just left shot away +toward the bridge. + +"Catching frogs," replied Eli. "I sell a lot of 'em to the hotels, and +this flood is jest the thing to make 'em thick." He lowered his spear +and brought up a struggling frog. Throwing it into a covered box, he +peered again into the water. + +"Where's Lon?" he said, straightening again with another victim. + +"To Tarrytown." + +"What's he to Tarrytown fer?" + +"He's a gittin' Flea and Flukey. That's where they runned to." + +"He ain't found 'em, has he? Truth, now!" + +"Yep, truth," answered Lem; "and he's got a fine-lookin' lawyer-pup to +git 'em for him." + +As Eli again and again thrust his spear into the water, Lem told the +story of the finding of the twins. He refrained from speaking of his +experience with Screech Owl; but said finally, as if with little +interest: + +"Ye ain't seen Scraggy, has ye?" + +"Nope; and she ain't in her hut, nuther; or she wasn't awhile back, +'cause I stopped there, when I was a lookin' for Lon." + +"When did ye git back to town?" + +"I dunno jest what day it were," responded Cronk, spearing again. + +"Can I git up the tracks, Eli?" inquired Lem presently. + +"Ye'll have to wade in mud to yer knees fer a spell after ye leave the +boat." + +"I can take the hill over the tracks for a way. Will ye row me up as far +as ye can?" + +"Yep, I'll row ye up," replied Eli, proceeding with his work. + + * * * * * + +Late in the afternoon, Lem Crabbe, wet to his knees and covered with +mud, entered the scow. He had stopped at Screechy's hut, knocked, and, +having received no answer, clicked down the hill to the boat. + +He made up his mind to stay there until Scraggy came back; then he would +go back to Tarrytown and bring the twins to Ithaca. Every morning Lem +mounted the hill, only to find that Screech Owl had not returned. But +one day, just at dusk, as he appeared before the hut, he saw the +flickering of a candle. He did not wait to knock, but entered, and found +Scraggy stretched out on the old bed. She looked up as if she had +expected him, noted his dark face, and lowered her head again. + +"Black Pussy's gone, Lem. I've got a cold settin' on me here," she +whispered, wheezing as she laid her hand on her chest. + +"I hope it'll kill ye!" grunted Lem. "What did you leave the toolhouse +fer, when I told ye to stay?" + +"What toolhouse, Lemmy?" The dazed eyes looked up at him in surprise. + +"Don't try none of yer guff on me. I want to know who ye went to see in +Tarrytown, and who the man was that throwed ye over the fence, and then +lugged ye off to that vault?" + +Scraggy sat up painfully. + +"I wasn't throwed over no fence." + +"Ye was, 'cause I seed the man when he done it. I wish now that I'd a +gone and settled with him. Who was he, Screechy?" + +"I dunno," she answered. + +Lem bent over her, his eyes blazing with wrath. + +"Ye want to git yer batty head a workin' damn quick," he shouted, "or +I'll slit yer throat with this!" The rusty hook was thrust near the +thin, drawn face. + +"I can't think tonight," muttered Screech Owl, "'cause the bats be a +runnin' 'bout in my head. When I think, I'll tell ye, Lemmy." + +"Where be that boy?" demanded Lem. + +Scraggy shook her head. Every time she thought of Lem's questions, there +was an infernal tapping of unnumbered winged creatures at the walls of +her brain. + +"There ain't no boy that I knows of," she said listlessly, sinking down +again. "And ye wouldn't slit my neck when I ain't done nothin', would +ye, Lemmy?" + +"Ye has done somethin'," growled Lem. "Ye has kep' that brat from me +these years past, and now he's big 'nough I'm goin' to have him! Ye +hear?" Every word he uttered came forth with effort. The red mark under +his chin moved relentlessly, preventing him from speaking with +clearness. + +Scraggy writhed beneath the tightening grasp of the man's wet fingers. + +"I'll choke ye to death!" Lem gasped, between throaty convulsions. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy dear--" + +Another twist of Lem's fingers, and the woman sank back unconscious. Lem +shook her roughly. + +"Scraggy, Scraggy!" he cried wildly. "Set up! I Want to talk to ye! Set +up!" + +The silence in the gloomy hut, the whiteness of the seemingly dead +woman, filled Lem with superstitious dread. He grasped his lantern and +ran out, failing to close the door. + +The frightened man made off up the hill, and, passing through the +Stebbins farm by the Gothic church and dark graveyard, he tramped the +Trumansburg road to Ithaca. The tracks were covered with water as they +had been when Eli had given him the lift toward the settlement. But the +flood had so receded that by drawing his trousers up over his boots Lem +managed to get through the mud to the bridge. From there he sought the +house of Middy Burnes, where he made an agreement with the tugman that +the scow should be towed from Ithaca to Tarrytown. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE + + +To usher Everett into her home with the same fond heart as hitherto was +more than Ann could do. Dearly as she loved him, much as she desired to +be his wife, it was hard to pardon him for casting aside her interests +for those of the dark-browed squatter. But, womanlike, she felt that she +could break down her lover's determination, and resolved that she would +not hesitate to open argument with him. + +Everett met her with a smile, and her lips trembled as they received his +warm kiss. After they were seated he said: + +"Horace has told you, no doubt, Ann, of the children's case." She nodded +her head sorrowfully. "Your brother seems to feel," went on Everett, +"that I should not have taken charge of it." + +"Neither should you have done so, Everett, unless you've other motives +than we know of." + +She looked up; but lowered her eyes as Brimbecomb glanced at her +furtively. Had Fledra told her of his advances? No, or she would never +have received his kisses. His fears were quieted by this thought, and he +asked gently: + +"What motives could I have other than that justice should be done the +father? I took the case, first, because it came to me; then, because I +think the man ought to have his children." + +Miss Shellington's face darkened. + +"Oh, Everett, you can't be so hard-hearted as to want those poor little +things misused! They have been persecuted by their own people, and you +certainly have more heart than to want that to happen again." + +"It's not a case of feeling; it's a case of justice. I know how this man +has struggled all his life to rear this boy and girl. They've had no +mother, and then, as soon as they were old enough and had the chance, +they ran away." + +"Because he was cruel to them!" + +"I don't believe it. I've had something to do with men, and I'm assured +that he told me the truth. I believe, as he says, that they excused +their leaving home by brazen lies. Have you never caught them lying to +you, Ann?" + +"No, no! They've always been truthful to me." + +"And to Horace?" + +"I haven't asked him. But, if they hadn't been, I am sure he would have +spoken of it. Everett, let me plead with you. They have been with us a +long time, and Horace and I have grown used to them. They need our care +more than I can tell you. The boy is still very ill. Won't you let my +love for you plead for them, and withdraw from the case? Do, Dear, and +let me call Horace. Will you, Everett? He's so sad over it! Oh! may I +call him?" She had risen from her chair; but a negative shake of the +man's head made her resume her place again, and she continued, "It will +be a dreadful thing for them, if they have to go back. Now, listen, +Everett! If you will withdraw and let Horace settle it with that man, +our arrangements," her face was dyed crimson,--"I mean your plans and +mine for our wedding, shall remain as they are. Otherwise--" + +"Otherwise, what?" breathed Everett, bending toward her. + +"I--I shall have to postpone them." Her voice had strengthened as she +spoke, and the last statement was clear and ringing. + +"Oh, you couldn't, Ann! Because I take a perfectly legitimate case, +which comes into our office, you propose to postpone our marriage?" + +"But, Everett, think of what you are doing! It is as if you had taken my +brother by the throat. You were the first one to suggest that he might +love the girl. What if he does?" + +"We will not talk of Horace, please." Everett turned from her as he +spoke. "You and I are the parties interested. If you will aid me, and +you should, seeing that you love me, your brother need not be +considered." + +Ann rose, shuddering. + +"You do not mean, Everett, that you wish to gain my consent that Fledra +and Floyd should go back to Ithaca?" + +Brimbecomb also rose. + +"Fledra and Floyd!" he mimicked smilingly. "What a farce it all is! And +how foolish to give them such names! I should think the governor and his +wife would feel complimented that those kids were called for them! They +are but paupers, after all!" + +"Everett," stammered Ann, "am I just beginning to know you? Oh, you +can't mean it! You're but jesting with me, aren't you, Dear?" Her love +for him impelled her forward, and her slender hands fell upon his +shoulders. He slipped them off, and gathered her fingers into his. + +"Ann," he said earnestly, "I'm not jesting, and I ask you, by your love +for me, to aid me in this, the first thing of importance I have ever +asked you." + +Miss Shellington drew reluctantly away. + +"I can't, I can't! My very soul revolts at the idea." Then, gaining +strength of voice, the girl, marble-white, exclaimed, "If you're not +jesting, and are still determined to follow out your plans," she caught +her breath in a sob and whispered, "then, like my brother, I shall have +to ask you to leave, please." + +A frown darkened Everett's face, followed by an expression of ridicule. + +"Is this your love for me? You would let two strange squatter children +come between us? Am I to understand it so?" + +"You may understand this: that, after knowing that their father is +wicked, that he would have sacrificed his daughter to a vile man, +without marriage to lessen her suffering, after knowing that he tried to +make a thief of his noble-hearted boy,--I say, after knowing all this, +if you can still insist upon helping him, then I would not dare--to +trust--my life with you!" + +Everett's rage blotted out all remembrance of how he left the house; but +there was a vivid picture in his mind of a woman, pale and lovely, +opening the door and dismissing him coldly. He remembered also that she +had shut the door as if it were never to be opened again to him. His +only consolation was that before long he would be able to face Fledra +Cronk and prove his power to her. With this thought came the +satisfaction of knowing that he would be able to wring Horace +Shellington's heart. + +After closing the door upon her lover, Ann stood breathless. The light +had suddenly gone from her sun--the whole living world seemed plunged +into darkness. Everett was gone, gone from her possibly forever. His +face had expressed a determination that proved he would not change his +mind. Why had he reasoned himself into thinking that justice could be +served in the squatter's cause? Everett must have a motive. Her judgment +told her to accuse the man she loved; her heart demanded that she excuse +him. For one instant her generous spirit balanced the squatter +children's welfare and her own future. She had promised to protect +Fledra and Floyd, promised them and Horace. Only a broken prayer escaped +her lips as she turned and walked quickly down the hall. She did not +wait to knock, but twisted the door-handle convulsively, and appeared +before her brother without a plea for pardon for her unannounced +entrance. + +"He's gone forever!" she said brokenly. "Oh, oh, I can't--" + +She swayed forward, and suddenly a merciful oblivion rested her +turbulent spirit, during which her agonized brother worked, hoping and +praying that she might soon know how he pitied and loved her. + +At length, when she opened her eyes and gazed at him, Ann murmured under +her breath, with a world of pleading: + +"Don't speak of him--don't! Dear heart, I can't--I can't bear it!" + +It was not until long afterward that Horace Shellington heard of the +scene through which she had passed. + + * * * * * + +Everett Brimbecomb's card admitted him to the governor's home. Mrs. +Vandecar welcomed him with outstretched hands. + +"Strange, Everett," said she, "but I was thinking only this afternoon +that I should ask you to dinner. I feel ashamed that I haven't before; +but I've been such an invalid for a long time! You must be lonely, now +that your father and mother are gone." + +"I've been busy." + +The other laughed understandingly. + +"Ah! I had forgotten that a young engaged man has but few free evenings +on his hands." + +To this Everett did not reply. + +"How is dear Ann?" asked Mrs. Vandecar. + +"I left her quite well; but not in the best of spirits. In fact, dear +little lady," and he bent over the white hand he held, "I've come to ask +a favor of you." + +"Is it anything about Ann? I can't have matters disarranged between you +two. I've always said you were an ideal couple." + +"Thank you," murmured Everett. + +Her frank words somewhat shattered his courage; for he knew her to be +kind-hearted. He did not expect to have her make any impression upon the +Shellington brother and sister; but wished her assistance as far as her +husband was concerned. + +He kept his gaze so long upon the floor that Mrs. Vandecar spoke: + +"I'm glad you came to me, Everett." + +"Yes, I'm glad, too, and I need your help just now. The fact is, Ann and +I have had words over a case I have taken charge of in the office." + +"How very strange!" exclaimed the woman, mystified. + +"It's no more strange to you than to me," went on Everett, after they +were seated. "First, Horace and I quarreled, and then, thinking Ann +would uphold me in my work, I went to her; getting about the same +reception I had received from him." + +"I should never have believed it of either of them," faltered Mrs. +Vandecar. "But do tell me about it." + +"Horace and Ann, as you know, have a boy and a girl in their charge." + +The governor's wife sat up interestedly. + +"I have heard of them," said she; "but have never seen them. I asked Ann +over the telephone one day this week, if I sent Katherine for the girl, +would she allow her to come and spend an afternoon with Mildred. But she +said that--" + +"Fledra, they call her," interrupted Brimbecomb, with a keen glance at +his companion. + +"Yes, so I've heard. Ann said that this Fledra was not going out at +all." + +"Do you know why?" + +"Why, I supposed that it was because their father had asked for them and +they feared some foul play." + +"Foul play!" cried Brimbecomb. "Why, Mrs. Vandecar, don't you think that +a father ought to have his own children?" Everett's eyes pierced her +gaze until it dropped. + +"Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them." + +"It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about. +I have accepted the father's case." + +"Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know +Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?" + +Everett twisted nervously. + +"She has no right to have her heart set upon them. Now, here is what I +want you to do. Ann is wearing away her health with these scrubs of +humanity, for which she won't even receive gratitude, and Horace looks +like a June shad. The boy has been sick constantly since he's been +there. If there were no hospitals in the town, it might be different. I +must make a move to separate the girl I love from the burden she can't +bear." + +Everett averted his face. Until that moment this excuse had not come +into his mind. If Mrs. Vandecar had any affection at all for Ann, the +thought that the girl was making herself ill would tempt her to +interfere. + +"Everett, does Ann know why you want to take them away from her?" + +"Of course not; I couldn't tell her that, nor Horace, either. They would +have promptly told me to attend to my own affairs; but I could come to +you." + +"I'm so glad--I'm so glad you did! And poor Ann, I wish she would allow +her friends to help her! She's such a darling in her charitable work, +though, isn't she?" + +"I don't agree with you," dissented Everett. + +"But you must admit, boy, that a girl who will make a hospital of her +home, who will wear out her strength for two little strangers, has the +heart of Christ in her." + +"I admit her goodness," said Everett slowly, "or I should not want her +for my wife. But you can't blame me when I say that I desire her to be +herself again." + +Mrs. Vandecar rose. + +"Well, come in to dinner, and we can still talk. Mildred has gone to her +father in Albany with Katherine for a day or two, and I'm alone." + +When they were seated, Everett pressed his plea again. + +"I don't think Ann would have been so stubborn in the matter, if Horace +had not insisted upon it. And I know that you will be surprised to hear +that he is in love with the girl, a little pauper who uses bad English +and swears like a pirate." + +Fledra Vandecar dropped her fork and started back from the table. + +"Everett, has Horace lost his mind, or what is it? What can there be in +two children--for they are very young--to have such a hold upon a man +like Horace and a woman like Ann?" + +"I have asked myself that a dozen times, and more," commented Everett. +"But now you understand why I want to do something to relieve these +misguided young people--to say nothing of my love for Ann?" + +"I do understand," replied Mrs. Vandecar, "and I can't blame you. But, +really, I don't see what I can do, without incurring the enmity of both +of my friends." + +"Your husband," breathed Everett. + +"Is pledged to Horace in this very matter, and, of course, I couldn't +take a stand against him. Everett, why don't you drop the case and let +time take its course? I fear that you're going the wrong way." + +Brimbecomb bit his lip. He might have known that Horace would apply to +the governor; but he had hoped to steal a march upon him and to keep the +state's official from aiding him. But Everett also knew what an +influence Mrs. Vandecar had over her husband, and now rejoined: + +"I have gone too far with it; and, what's more, if I have to bear the +brunt of the thing alone, I'll free Ann from a presence that has +completely changed her! Have you seen her lately?" + +Mrs. Vandecar shook her head. + +"I haven't," she admitted slowly. "I haven't been well enough to go out, +and she hasn't been here. I have heard from her only now and then on the +'phone. Poor child! I must try to get over there tomorrow." + + * * * * * + +Next day Ann met Mrs. Vandecar with open arms. + +"Oh, Fledra," said she, "I've longed for you so many days! I do +appreciate your coming!" + +"I knew you would, Ann. You are the first acquaintance I have called on +in weeks. But, honey girl, you don't look well." + +Ann's eyes filled with tears. Fledra Vandecar was one of the many bright +rays of sunshine in her past life, when she had been happy and +contented, when Everett had been her lover, and Horace at ease. Now her +life was all chaos. Misery, fright, and a troubled heart were her +constant companions. + +Mrs. Vandecar leaned over and gently brushed back a lock of hair from +the girl's brow. + +"Ann, dear, can't you tell me what is the matter?" + +"There's so very much, it would weary you." + +"Indeed, no! Mayn't I stay with you just a little while?" + +Ann checked back her emotion and rose. + +"Pardon, Dear; I didn't dream that you could." + +"Of course I can. Mildred is in Albany. How happy I should be if I could +help you!" + +"Time only will do that, Fledra. It will take many weeks before Horace +and I are running in our old home gait. But I love to have you here, +especially as Horace has gone out for a long drive. He will be away all +the afternoon." + +"That's too bad," interjected Mrs. Vandecar. "I hoped to see him. And, +Ann, I want also to see those children." + +"The girl is riding with Horace today--she gets out so little, and +Brother insisted upon taking her. The boy is still very ill." + +"Is he too ill for me to see him?" + +Ann hesitated. + +"Well, his heart is affected, and anything unusual throws him into a new +spell. We keep all trouble from him." + +Mrs. Vandecar touched her friend gently. + +"And you've had enough of his to bear, poor Ann!" + +"We don't consider it a trouble to do anything for those we love. I +wonder if you would like to peep at him--making no noise, remember! He +is sleeping under a drug. Come, Dear, and I'll look at him first." + +The governor's wife followed Ann to Floyd's door, and waited until a +beckoning finger called her in. She entered the darkened chamber, and +paused a moment to get her bearings. Miss Shellington was near the bed, +her eyes calling. + +"He's sound asleep," she whispered. + +With his head thrown back a little, Floyd's face was turned toward the +wall. His profile and thick black curls were sharply distinct upon the +white pillow-slip. His broad brow was covered with beads of +perspiration, and the lips were muttering incoherent words. Mrs. +Vandecar leaned far over the bed, and peered into his face. Something so +touched her in the thin, sunken cheeks, in the drawn mouth, whispering +in an unnatural sleep, that she drew back weeping. Suddenly words formed +on the sleeper's lips: + +"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild," fell from them, "look upon--look upon--" +Then the whisper trailed once more into incoherence. + +Fledra Vandecar clutched at Ann's sleeve. + +"He's praying, Ann! He's praying!" Miss Shellington bowed her head in +assent. "Poor baby, poor little dear!" Mrs. Vandecar's voice was louder +than before. + +"Hush, hush!" breathed Ann. "Come away. He's so very ill!" + +"Pity--pity my simplicity," murmured Floyd again, "and Lord prepare my +soul a--place!" + +Mrs. Vandecar straightened and flashed the rigid girl at her side an +appealing glance. Ann touched her again, and the two women passed from +the room, weeping. + +"How very beautiful he is!" stammered Mrs. Vandecar. "Oh, Ann, dear, +can't you do something for him? Can't I? Why haven't I tried before? You +won't be offended, will you, Ann, when I say that until this moment I +have never approved of your having him? But I've seldom seen such a +face, and he was--he was praying, poor baby! Poor, little tormented boy! +I wish that he had been awake, or that his sister were here--I want to +see her, too." + +"Yes, you should see her. She is very sweet," replied Ann so gravely +that Mrs. Vandecar wept again. + +Very soon she made ready for home, with no hint of the conversation she +had had with Everett, and no word of advice to Ann about giving up her +charges. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX + + +A letter went that night from Fledra Vandecar to her husband in Albany. +It was written after the woman had paced her room for several hours in +inexplicable disquietude and unrest. Puzzled, the governor read: + + "_Dearest_.-- + + "I went today to see Ann Shellington, with my mind fully made up to + speak to her about the boy and girl who have been with her for + these last few months. Everett was here to dinner last night with + me, and confided in me his trouble with Horace, which has finally + culminated in a breach with Ann. It seems the difficulty arose over + the case of the squatter from Ithaca who has demanded his children. + + "Everett has taken the man's side, and until I called upon Ann I + felt quite in sympathy with him. And still I cannot tell you, + dearest Floyd, what changed my mind, unless it was the sight of + that sick boy. He was sleeping when I went in, and was muttering + over a babyish prayer, which quite touched me. I had no opportunity + to talk with him, nor the girl either. She was riding with Horace, + and Everett tells me that he (Horace) is quite infatuated with the + child. + + "I'm going to ask you, Floyd darling, to help Horace all you can, + and if Everett comes to see you, as he said he was going to, I want + you to know that it is my wish that you should keep to your policy + with Ann and her brother. I cannot tell why I am writing you this, + only that my heart aches for that boy, and that for years I have + never felt so impelled to help a human being as I have him. + + "I thought Everett might tell you that I was won to his way of + thinking by his pleading how he wanted to remove Ann from contact + with the boy and girl; so I hasten to write you. Kiss my precious + Mildred for her mother, and, Floyd, dear, see to it that she + doesn't stay up too late; for she is not strong. I cautioned + Katherine about it; but I'm afraid she might yield to the child's + entreaties. + + "With fondest love to you, my darling, and to my baby and + Katherine, I am, + + "Your own loving wife, + "FLEDRA." + +The governor read and reread the letter, especially the part in which +his wife implored him to aid Horace Shellington. He laid it down with a +sigh. He well knew that Fledra's heart was tender toward all little ones +since the disappearance of her own. All hope that he would ever see his +twin children had left him years before, and now, for some moments, with +his hand on the envelop, his mind wandered into hidden places, where he +saw a boy and a girl growing to manhood and womanhood, and he groaned +deeply. + + * * * * * + +Later, when Everett Brimbecomb was ushered into his office at the +capital, the governor was primed with the sympathy that he had gathered +from his wife's letter. + +"This is something of a surprise, my dear boy," he said. "I did not know +you were coming to Albany so soon." + +"I came with a purpose," replied Everett; "for, as you know, my father +is away, and I need your advice in something." + +Vandecar waited for his visitor to proceed. + +"Do you see any reason," Everett stammered, "why two young lawyers +should not be friends, even if they have to take opposite sides in a +lawsuit?" + +"No," replied the governor slowly. + +"Then I'll lay the whole thing before you, and let you tell me what you +think of it." + +"Have a cigar while we talk," broke in Vandecar, offering Everett his +case. + +In silence they began to smoke, and both remained quiet until the +governor said: + +"Now, explain it to me, please." + +Everett began the story of the children's running away, as the squatter +had told it to him, and of their coming to Horace. He did not forget to +add that he believed Shellington had lied to him the night he came into +the dining-room and discovered Fledra and Floyd with the two little +animals. When a shade passed over the governor's face, Everett quickly +noted that he had made a mistake in the drawing of conclusions. + +"Don't be too hasty, Everett," cautioned Vandecar, shaking an ash +deliberately from his cigar. "Horace is the soul of truth. If he did not +tell it to you, he had good reasons." + +Brimbecomb frowned. He could have bitten his tongue out for making that +misstep. + +"That's so," he admitted. "But, ever since last September, Horace, and I +might say Ann, too, have drawn more and more away from me. For my part, +I see no good that can come of their relations with squatters." + +"It was the most charitable act I have ever heard of," replied Vandecar. +"But you are straying from the case. Do I understand that you have taken +up the side of the father?" + +"Yes." + +"And that you intend to make a move to return his children to him?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +As Everett looked at the stern, unyielding man before him, his excuse to +Mrs. Vandecar seemed tame as it ran through his mind. The governor's +eyes were scanning him critically, almost dazzling him with their +steely gray. An expression in the steady gaze made him tremble; but he +took heart as he thought of the friendship between the governor and his +foster father. + +"It's hardly fair to ask me why I took the case, which came to me in a +legitimate manner," said he. "I can see no reason why the man, although +poor, should not have his own children. Do you?" + +It was a pointed question, and Vandecar waived it by saying: + +"There are always circumstances surrounding these things, such as when +parents are cruel to their children, which might make it advisable, +almost imperative, to take the youngsters away and put them with +reputable people. I think Horace is of the impression that this is true +in the present case." + +"Then is one man's opinion to be taken? Do you advise that?" + +"No; but I do not yet understand why you should be interested against +your friends. I should think that, rather than disagree with them, you +would wish to have nothing to do with it." + +Everett would have to use Ann again to convince the governor of his +right to act. It had been far easier to explain his interest in Cronk to +Mrs. Vandecar than to this quiet, powerful man opposite. The +brown-flecked gray eyes looked unusually sober and truth-demanding. + +"I won't have them any longer with Ann than I can help," Everett broke +forth suddenly. "She is killing herself over them. Have you ever seen +them, Mr. Vandecar?" + +"No." + +"If you had, then you would agree with me. The fact is, your wife thinks +the way I do, but would not help me because you were pledged to Horace. +Your influence over him is great, and I should like to keep this out of +court, if possible. Mrs. Vandecar was rather exercised over Ann." + +With a deliberation that baffled Everett, the governor put down his +cigar and drew a letter from his pocket. He opened it in silence and +glanced at it, while Everett stared uneasily at this unusual proceeding. +Presently the governor looked up casually. + +"You say that my wife is exercised over Ann?" + +"So she told me. She---" + +"Well, just at this time," interjected Vandecar, "Mrs. Vandecar is very +much in sympathy with the boy. She has seen him, since talking with +you." Everett stood up abruptly. "She has changed her mind; so her +letter tells me, Brimbecomb," went on the elder man, "and, as I am +working with Horace, and this thing touches him so deeply, I shall have +to ask you not to come to me for advice or help. You understand," and +the governor rose also, "that, while I have a deep feeling of interest +in you and your work, I must say that I think it would be better taste +for you to withdraw while you can. It will be unpleasant all around, +and, as your father is away, it is rather dangerous to connect your +office with low people." + + * * * * * + +Everett went forth from the interview discomfited, but none the less +firm in his evil purpose. Only a few days later, when Lem Crabbe's scow +was slowly making its way from Ithaca to Tarrytown, _habeas corpus_ +papers were served upon Horace Shellington to produce the twins in court +and to give reasons why they should not be given to their father. + +Horace held a consultation with Ann, and it was decided that they should +appeal to the court for time, procuring a doctor's certificate to prove +that Floyd was too ill even to know of the proceedings. This having been +done, it placed an unlooked-for stay upon Everett Brimbecomb; but he +secured a court order instructing the sheriff to guard the children at +the Shellington home until the boy was well enough to be taken out. So, +a deputy was stationed in the house. + + * * * * * + +In the meantime Lon watched eagerly for the coming of Lem. When at last +he espied the scow fastened in its accustomed place, he went down to +carry the news to the owner. After explaining the matter as far as it +had gone, he ventured: + +"Lem, be ye carin' for Flea yet?" + +"Why?" demanded Lem suspiciously. + +"'Cause we can make some money outen her, if ye gives up yer claim on +her." + +"Ye mean to sell her?" + +Lem's words sounded hoarse as he wheezed them out. + +"'Tain't sellin' her," explained Lon. "A whollopin' good-lookin' feller +wants her, and he says he'll buy yer off and give me money fer her. Will +ye do it, Lem?" + +"Nope, I won't! I want her myself. I been waiting long 'nough fer her." + +"But wouldn't ye ruther have a pocketful of money? I would, I bet ye!" + +"Lon, be ye goin' to do me dirt?" asked Lem darkly. + +Lon straightened his shoulders. + +"Nope, I told him ye had to be buyed off, afore I could say nothin'. But +I thought ye liked money, Lem." + +"So I do; but I like Flea better. I helped ye get 'em when they were +babies, Lon, and ye said--" + +Cronk flung out his arms. + +"I said as how ye wasn't to mention aloud, even to me, that the kids +wasn't mine. Ye has Flea, if ye say so, and I'll tell the lawyer--" + +"Be it that good-lookin' feller what ye give the fifty dollars to what +wants Flea?" Cronk nodded. "I thought ye wouldn't let me marry her," Lem +cried, "and now ye be goin'--" + +Lon interrupted the scowman fiercely: + +"Nuther is he goin' to marry her--ye can bet on that! No kid of +Vandecar's gets a boost up from me--a boost down, more like!" + +"I'll kill the feller if he touches her," growled Lem, "and ye can make +up yer mind to that, Lon!" + +Lon Cronk shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. + +"Take her if ye want her, Lem. I won't put no straw in yer way. But I +never could see what ye wanted her fer. She's a big mouth to feed, let +me tell ye!" + +For some moments the two men sat in the darkening scow and smoked in +silence. Suddenly Lem looked up. + +"We couldn't get ahead of the nasty scamp, could we, Lon? I mean, could +we git the money, and then keep the gal?" + +"I don't want her," growled Lon; "she couldn't stay with me no more." + +"We oughter make him pay the money, though," Lem insisted. + +"Then, if ye has Flea, Lem," said Lon, looking keenly at the scowman, +"and ye git yer share of money, ye has to share up yer half with me. +See?" + +"Yep," muttered Lem. "Will ye bring the feller down here some day, and +we'll talk it over?" + +Lon acquiesced by a nod of his head, saying only, "Come on out, and +let's get a drink." + +"When's he goin' to git 'em--Flea and Flukey, I mean?" + +"I dunno. The boy's too sick to come to court. He's liable to die any +minute." + +Lem started forward at the unexpected word. + +"If he croaks, be ye goin' to leave Flea there?" + +"Not by a damn sight! We'll git her, and I don't care if the boy goes +dead afore mornin'. I only want him to suffer, and die if he wants to. +And, Lem," Lon smiled evilly, and, looking into the swart face of his +pal, said, "and I guess ye can make the gal come to yer likin'." + +Lem's throat worked visibly, his face reddened by the silent laughter +that shook him. + +"I only want the chance," he said. "Come on and let's git a drink." + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN + + +Everett Brimbecomb had become impatient. He missed his evenings with +Ann, and was tortured with the thought that Horace was with Fledra. +Every day made his hatred for his former friend more deadly, more +vindictive, and he not only desired to take the squatter girl away, but +he felt impelled to separate Ann from her brother. He received a badly +spelled note from Lon with a feeling of thanksgiving. Something had +happened to make the squatter wish to see him. So, after dinner, he took +the direction Lon had given, and reached the scow in a heavy rain. It +was much more to his liking that the evening should be stormy; for no +person of his own station in life would be apt to be abroad on such a +night. + +As he entered the living-room of the scow, Everett bowed frigidly to Lem +Crabbe, and forgot to extend his hand to Lon. + +"You sent for me," he said in a low tone, looking at the squatter. + +"Yep. I knowed ye wanted to see Lem, and I thought as how ye'd ruther +come here than have him come along to yer office. Ain't that right?" + +"I believe I told you so," responded Everett coldly, as he took his +place in a rickety chair. + +"Ye said, didn't ye, Mister, that ye wanted the handlin' of Flea after +we took her away from that meddlin' millionaire?" + +"Yes." + +"And I telled ye that ye had to make a bargain with Lem, 'cause he had +first right to her. What ye willin' to give?" + +"How much money do you want to withdraw your claim from the girl?" + +"I ain't thought 'bout no price," replied Lem covertly. + +"Then think and listen to me. I have an idea in my mind that we can take +the girl away from that house, if not tomorrow, at least in a few days." + +Lem's eyes glistened, and Lon placed his clay pipe carefully upon the +table. + +"Lip it out, then, Mister," said the latter; "and, if me and Lem's +agreein' with ye, then we'll help ye." + +Everett moved uneasily in the creaking chair. He did not desire to +dicker with these ruffians; but it was necessary, if he wished to carry +out his plans concerning Fledra. + +"The boy is likely to die any moment. The girl is the only one who can +help you, Mr. Cronk." Everett had meaning in his voice, and his words +made Lem swallow hard. + +"I was a thinkin' that myself," ruminated Lon. + +"The girl idolizes her brother and Mr. Shellington. If you could make +her understand that they would otherwise both be killed through your +instrumentality, she would leave the house of her own free will, I'm +sure." + +Lon, grimacing with delight, bounded up and faced Lem. + +"That be so! That comes of gittin' a lawyer what's got stuff in his +head, ye see, Lem. I told ye that when ye said as how we could get them +kids without spendin' no money." + +"You will have to use great care, both of you," Everett urged, "and it +only means for you to take the girl, as you first planned, to Ithaca; +and I will come after her. You will both have your money, and our +business together will be at an end." Lem laughed, but with no sound. +"Just how to get this girl is more than I have figured out," Everett +continued; "but it might be well for me to try and get a letter to her. +I have been a steady visitor at Shellington's home for many years. We +are hardly upon good terms now; but I could manage it, if one of you men +would write it. Make the letter strong, and you will gain your ends. You +may bring it to my office tomorrow, Mr. Cronk." He rose, buttoned up his +raincoat, and went out, leaving two gaping men looking after him. + + * * * * * + +Since the papers had been served upon him, Horace had had no peace of +mind. The solemn deputy loitering about the home menaced the whole +future. It sickened him when he forced his imagination to dwell upon +Fledra's future, if she were dragged back to Ithaca, and he had rather +place Floyd in his grave than give him into the hands of the squatter. +Suddenly, one morning, he took a great resolution, and no sooner had he +made up his mind to take the one step that would change his whole life +than he called Ann to tell her about it. + +"I'm going to marry Fledra," he said, catching his breath. + +Ann dropped her hands fearfully; but intense interest gathered on her +face. + +"I can save her no other way," he went on, almost in excuse, noting her +glance. "And you must have seen, Ann, dear, that I love the child. Sit +down here and let me tell you about it." + +He began at the beginning, telling her of his early growing love, of his +desire to make the squatter child his wife. Ann allowed him to narrate +his story impulsively, without interruption. + +Then she said gently: + +"Horace, dear, have you told her that you love her?" + +"Yes; but I am going to tell her again this morning." + +"Ask her now," suggested Ann eagerly, and she rose. + +Horace found Fledra with Floyd, and she lifted her eyes confidingly to +his with a smile. For a long time he had been so tender, so loving, that +the specter bred and fostered by Everett Brimbecomb's kisses had nearly +vanished. + +"Floyd is so much better this morning!" she said. Her words were well +chosen, and she pronounced her brother's new name carefully. + +Floyd held out his hand and raised himself slowly up. + +"Look, Brother Horace!" he cried eagerly. "Look--just this morning I've +been able to stand up! Sister Ann says in a few days I can walk." + +Horace held the thin, white fingers in his for an instant. + +"So you will, boy. It won't be long before you can get out." + +The words startled Fledra. Not until the trouble of Lon's coming had she +wished that Floyd might linger in the sickroom. The man outside, +watching every movement in the house, frightened her. She knew that when +her brother was well enough he and she would be called away for the +court's decision as to their future. + +"Floyd, will you spare your sister just a few moments? I want to talk +with her." + +"Course I will, Brother Horace. Scoot along, Fledra!" + +"This way, child," whispered Horace. "I've something--oh, such a dear +something!--to say to you." + +They quietly passed the deputy, who only raised his eyes, smiled at +Fledra, and dropped his gaze again to his paper. When Horace's door was +closed, Horace took Fledra into his embrace and kissed her again and +again. She loved the warmth of his arms, and the delight of his kisses +caused her to rest unresisting until he chose to speak. + +"Fledra, dear, will you marry me--immediately?" + +His question brought her to rigidity. + +"You mean--" + +"I mean that all our troubles are going away." + +Fledra drew slowly from him. + +"How can our troubles go away?" she asked. + +"By your consenting." + +"I told you once, and more than once, that I couldn't tell you. Won't +you ever understand?" + +But Horace did not loosen his hold upon her. He drew the dark head +against him tenderly. + +"You misunderstood, Fledra. I am going to trust you in everything. I am +going to put all my faith in you, and to save you and your brother from +a fearful life. I must make you my wife!" + +Fledra drew a long breath. All the stumbling petitions she had made to +Heaven were answered by those few words. At last, to be Horace's wife, +to save Flukey, and to protect Ann, who would now have back her lover! +It seemed to the young girl, in this flashing moment of thought, that +all the clouds of the last few months had floated over their heads and +away. + +"It will take a few days before I can arrange our marriage," explained +Horace. "One reason for not arranging today is that I have to run down +to New York for two or three days; and then, too, I must be careful not +to let anyone know of our plans. I want you to talk with my sister. I +have told her that I love you." + +"Was she sorry?" whispered Fledra. + +"No--very, very glad!" + +"And can I tell Floyd?" + +"Yes, just as soon as you like. I have an idea your happiness will go +far to make him well." + + * * * * * + +For an hour Horace refused to let her leave him, and when Fledra did go +back to the sick brother her face was radiant with happiness. Floyd was +not prepared for the rush of words or the passionate appeal with which +she met him. + +Blinking his eyes, the boy waved his sister back. + +"I can't make out what you're saying, Flea." + +"I'm going to marry Brother Horace!" She stopped, and began again. "I'm +going to marry Horace--oh, so soon, Fluke! And aren't you glad? And then +they can't take us away!" + +It was the first intimation Floyd had had of their danger. He rose up, +standing upon his legs tremblingly. + +"Has anybody been trying to take us away, Flea?" + +Then Fledra realized what she had said, and hesitated in fear. + +"I forgot, you weren't to know, Fluke. Will you wait till I call Brother +Horace?... Fluke, don't be trembling like that! Sit down, Fluke!... +Fluke!" + +Floyd's face had paled, even to the tips of his ears. He realized now +that danger had hung over the fair young sister and he had not known of +it. + +"It's Pappy Lon, and ye never told me, Flea, and that's why ye been so +unhappy! He'll take ye away because yer his kid, and Brother Horace +can't do anything." + +"Yes, he can, Fluke--yes, he can! He loves me, and I love him, and he's +going to marry me! Nobody can't take a wife away from her man!... Fluke, +don't wabble like that! Brother Horace! Brother Horace!" + +Fledra's voice reached the dreaming man, bending over his desk, and he +bounded to answer her call. He found her supporting her brother, white +and shivering, with eyes strained by fright. + +"I told him," gasped Fledra looking up; "but I didn't mean to." + +"Told him what?" + +"Pappy Lon," muttered Floyd, "comin' for Flea!" + +Horace caught the words in dismay. + +He placed the suffering boy on the divan and bent close. In low tones +he said that the squatter in some mysterious way had found where they +were, and that he had come for them. He began at the beginning, +explaining to the boy Lon's demand upon him. He refrained, however, from +mentioning Everett, because of the pain to his sister. He had just +finished the story, when Ann softly opened the door and came in. + +"But I insist that you will place your faith in me, Floyd. I shall see +to it that neither you nor your sister leave me--unless you go of your +own free will," Horace concluded. + +"If Pappy Lon takes one of us," muttered Floyd, as Miss Shellington +calmed him with sweet interest, "let him take me. I'm as good as dead, +anyhow. I want Flea to marry Brother Horace." + +"And so she will," assured Ann. "Now then, Dear, try and sleep." + +During the rest of the afternoon Ann held conferences with her brother, +fluttering back and forth from him to Floyd, and then to Fledra. She +noted that the strained expression had gone from the girl's face, and +uttered a little prayer of thanksgiving when she heard Horace's hearty +laugh ring out once more. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT + + +Everett Brimbecomb took the letter Lon Cronk handed him, without rising +from his chair. + +"It be for Flea," said Lon, grinning, "and I think she'll understand it. +It's as plain as that nose on yer face, Mister." + +"May I read it?" asked the lawyer indifferently. Then, as Lon nodded, he +slipped the letter deftly from the finger-marked envelop and read the +contents with a smile. "It's strong enough," he said, replacing it. "I, +too, think she'll succumb to that. If you'll leave this letter with me, +I'll see that she gets it." + +Everett put the envelop in a drawer and implied that the interview was +at an end. But the squatter twirled his cap in his fingers and lingered. + +"Lem says as how he'll take the gal and me in his scow to Ithaca. Ye can +follow us when ye git ready." + +The younger man stood up, nodding his approval. + +"That'll be just the way to do it, and I shall look to you, Mr. Cronk, +to keep faith with me. Frankly speaking, I do not like your friend. I +think he's a rascal." + +"Well, he be a mean cuss; but there be other cusses besides Lem, +Mister." + +Brimbecomb flushed at the meaning glance in the squatter's shrewd eyes. + +"All you both have to do," said he bruskly, "is to spend the money I'll +give you--and keep your mouths shut." + +If Everett had noted the crafty expression on the squatter's face as the +latter walked down the street, he would not have been so satisfied over +his deal with Lon. After he was alone, he reread Cronk's letter. Later +he wrote steadily for sometime. His communication also was for Fledra, +and he intended by hook or crook to get it to her with the other. + + * * * * * + +There never had been greater rejoicing in the Shellington home than on +the night when it was settled that Fledra was to marry Horace. It was +decided that after the wedding the girl should have tutors and +professors. A lovelight had appeared in the gray eyes when she promised +Ann that she would study diligently until Horace and Floyd and all her +dear ones would be proud of her advancement. How gently Ann encircled +the little figure before she said goodnight, and how tearfully she +congratulated Horace that he had won such a fond, faithful heart for his +own! Even after kissing Floyd, and tucking the coverlet about his +shoulders, the young woman was again drawn to Fledra. + +"May I come in, Darling?" she whispered. + +Fledra did not cease combing her curls before the mirror when she +welcomed Miss Shellington. + +"I simply couldn't go to bed, child," said Ann, "until I came to see you +again. I feel so little like sleeping!" + +Fledra turned a blushing, happy face upon her friend. + +"And I'm not going to sleep tonight, either. I'm going to stay awake all +night and be glad." + +This brought Ann's unhappiness back to her, and she smiled sadly as she +thought of her own tangled love-affair. + +"I want you and my brother to be very happy." + +Fledra dropped her comb and looked soberly at the other. + +"I'm not good enough for him," she said, with a sigh; "but he loves me, +and I love him more than the whole world put together, Sister Ann." + +The young face had grown radiant with idealized love and faith, and +through the shining gray eyes, in which bits of brown shaded to golden, +Ann could see the girl's soul, pure and lofty. She marked how it had +grown, had expanded, under great love, and marveled. + +"I know that, Dearest. I wish I were as happy as you!" + +The pathos in her tones, the sad lines about Ann's sweet mouth, made +Fledra grasp her hands in girlish impetuousness. + +"He'll come back to you, Sister Ann, some day," she breathed. "He thinks +Pappy Lon ought to have us kids, and that's what makes him work against +you and Brother Horace. He can't stay away from you long." + +Ann shook her head mournfully. + +"I fear he doesn't love me, Fledra, or he couldn't have done as he has. +Sometimes it seems as if I must send for him; for he isn't bad at +heart." She rested her eyes on Fledra's face imploringly. "You think, +don't you, Dear, that when a woman loves a man as I love him her love in +the end will help him?" + +Fledra thought of her own mad affection for Horace, of his love for her, +and of how her longing for him stirred the very depths of her soul, +uplifting and refreshing it. She nodded her head. + +"He'll come back to her, all right," she murmured after Ann had gone and +she had thrown herself on the bed. "Floyd will get well, and Horace and +I--" She dropped asleep, and the morning had fully dawned before she +opened her eyes to another day. + + * * * * * + +Then, as Fledra sat up in bed, brushed back the curls from her face, and +with the eagerness of a child thought over the happy yesterday, suddenly +her eyes fell upon an envelop, lying on the carpet just beneath her +window. It had not been there the night before. She slipped to the +floor, picked up the sealed letter with her name on it, and climbed into +bed again, while examining it closely. With a mystified expression upon +her face, she tore open the envelop. Unfolding one of the two letters, +inclosed, she read: + + "_Flea Cronk_.-- + + "This is to tell ye that if ye don't come back with me and Lem, + we'll kill that guy Shellington and Flukey. Flukey can stay there + if he wants to, if you come. Make up yer mind, and don't ye tell + any man that I writ this letter. Come to Lem's scow in the river, + or ye know what I does to Flukey. + + "LON CRONK." + +Fledra folded up the letter and opened the other one dazedly. It was +written with a masterly pen-stroke, and the girl, without reading it, +looked at the signature. It was signed, "Everett Brimbecomb." Her eyes +flashed back to the beginning, and she read it through swiftly: + + "_Little Miss Cronk_.-- + + "I am delivering this letter in a peculiar way, because I know that + you had rather not have anyone see it. It is necessary that you + should think calmly and seriously over the question I am going to + ask you. I am very fond of you. Whether or not you will return my + affection is a thing for you to decide in the future. Now, then, + the question is, Do you want to protect your brother and your + friends from the anger of your father? If so, you must go with him. + I will answer for it that your brother stays where he is; but you + must go away. Think well before you decide not to go; for I know + the men who are determined to have you, and would save you if I + could. I shall try to see you very soon. Destroy this letter + immediately. Your friend, + + "EVERETT BRIMBECOMB." + +Fledra sat as if in a trance, her eyelids drooping over almost sightless +eyes. The last blow had fallen upon her, and she knew that she must go. +That she could ever be forced away thus without her brother, that Horace +could be given no chance to help her, had never crossed her mind. +Through her imagination drifted Lon's dark, cruel face, followed by a +vision of Lem Crabbe. Feature after feature of the scowman came vividly +to her,--the wind-reddened skin, the foul, tobacco-browned lips, the +twitching goiter,--all added to the nervous chill that had suddenly come +upon the girl. Lem and Lon represented all the world's evil to her, and +Everett Brimbecomb all the world's influence. The three had thrust their +triple strength between her and happiness. Her dear ones should not fall +before the wrath of Lem and Lon, or before the unsurmountable power of +Everett Brimbecomb! In her hands alone lay their salvation. Like one +stunned, she rose from the bed and carefully destroyed the two letters. +This was the one command she would obey promptly. + +When Ann knocked softly at the door, and no answer came, she gently +pushed it open. Fledra lay with her face to the wall as if asleep. Miss +Shellington bent over her, and then crept quietly out to allow the girl +to rest another hour. No sooner had the door closed than Fledra sat up +with clenched fists, her face blanched with terror. She could not +confront the inevitable without help. But not once did it occur to her +that Horace Shellington would be able to protect not only her, but +himself also. The path of her future life stretched from Tarrytown to +Ithaca, straight into Lem's scow! + + * * * * * + +Through the entire day the girl was enigmatical both to Horace and to +Ann. Weary hours, crowding one upon another, offered her no relief. The +thought of Lon's letter shattered hope and made her desolate. She did +not stop to reason that her relations with Horace demanded that she tell +him of Everett's perfidy. Had not her loved ones been threatened with +death, if she disclosed having received the letters? She spent most of +the day with Floyd, saying but little. + +In the evening Fledra waited wide-eyed and sleepless until the household +was quiet, and while she waited she pondered dully upon a plan to +escape. Toward night two faint hopes had taken possession of her: +Everett Brimbecomb could help her; Pappy Lon might. Before leaving Floyd +and severing her connections with Horace, she would appeal to the +squatter and his lawyer. She opened the window and looked out. It was +but a short drop to the path at the side of the house. + +At half-past ten Fledra slipped into her coat and set a soft, light cap +upon her black curls. In another minute she had reached the road and had +turned toward Brimbecomb's. To escape any eyes in the house she had just +left, she scurried to the graveyard. For an instant only did she halt, +and, somber-eyed, glance over the graves. She could easily mark the spot +where she had lain so long with Floyd, and tears welled into her eyes as +she thought of him. How many things had happened since then! In hasty +review came week after week of the time she had spent with Horace and +Ann. How she loved them both! Turning, she scanned the gloomy Brimbecomb +house. In the servants' quarters at the top several lights burned, while +on the drawing-room floor a gas-jet shot forth its beams into Sleepy +Hollow. If Mr. Brimbecomb were at home, then he must be in that room. +Fledra crouched under the window. + +"Mr. Brimbecomb! Mr. Brimbecomb!" she called. + +Silence, as dense as that in God's Acre near her, reigned in the house. +She called again, a little louder. Suddenly she heard a rapid step upon +the road and crept back again to the corner of the building. + +Everett Brimbecomb was passing under the arc light, and Fledra could see +his handsome face plainly in its rays. + +He stopped a moment and looked at Shellington's house, with a shrug of +his shoulders. Again he resumed his way; but halted as Fledra called his +name softly. From her hiding-place in the shadow of the porch she came +slowly forward. + +"Can I talk with you a few moments, Mr. Brimbecomb?" she faltered. "I +know that you can help me, if you will." + +Everett's heart began to beat furiously. Something in the appealing girl +attacked him as nothing else had. How slim she looked, how lithe and +graceful, and yet so childishly young! He compared her with Ann in rapid +thought, and remembered that he had never felt toward Horace's sister as +he did toward this obscure girl. + +"Come in," he murmured; "we can't talk here. Come in." + +"Let me tell you out here in the night," stammered Fledra. + +Everett touched her arm, urging her forward. + +"They may see us from the Shellingtons'," he said; and, in spite of her +unwillingness, he forced her up the steps. Like the wind of a hurricane, +a mixture of emotions stormed in his soul. He dared not do as he wished +and take the girl in his arms. He checked his desire to force his love +upon her, and motioned to a chair, into which Fledra sank. Like shining +ebony, her black hair framed a death-pale face. The darkness of a new +grief had deepened the shade in the mysterious eyes. For an instant she +paused on the edge of tears. + +"I don't want to go back with Pappy Lon!" she whispered. + +Everett caught his breath. She was even more lovely than he had +remembered. Inwardly he cursed the squatters. If he could eliminate them +from his plans--but they were necessary to him. + +"I don't like none o' the bunch of ye!" Fledra burst out in his silence. +Brimbecomb's lips formed a slight smile. The girl pondered a moment, and +continued fiercely, "And I hate Ithaca and all the squatters!" + +"You speak very much like your father," ventured the lawyer. "I can't +understand why you hate him. Your place is with him." + +The girl bowed her head and wept softly. She realized that when she was +excited she could not remember her English. + +"I've been a squatter," she said, forlornly shaking her head, "and I +s'pose Pappy Lon has a right to me; but I love--" + +"You love whom?" + +"Mr. Shellington. Oh, Mr. Brimbecomb, can't ye help me to keep away from +Pappy Lon? Can't ye make him see that I don't want to go back--that I +can't go back to Lem Crabbe ever?" + +"There's no danger of your going to--what did you say his name was?" + +"Lem Crabbe--the man with a hook on his arm. I hate him so!" + +"I remember seeing him once. I don't think you need worry over going +with him. Your father is not a fool." + +"He promised me to Lem!" wailed Flea. + +"And he--promised--you to--me!" + +So deliberately did Everett speak that Fledra was on her feet before the +sentence was finished. Horror, deep-seated, rested in the eyes raised to +his. Oh, surely she had not heard aright! + +"What did ye say?" she demanded. + +"Your father has promised you to me." + +"Oh, that's why you done it, was it? That's why ye fit Sister Ann and +Brother Horace? 'Cause ye wanted me to go with ye! I hate ye like I +hate--the devil!" + +Her words, grossly coarse, struck and stung the man to action. He strode +forward and grasped her arm roughly in his fingers. + +"You little fury, what do I care how much you hate me? It's a man's +pleasure to conquer a woman like you. You can have your choice between +the other man and me." + +Dumb with fright and amazement, his treachery driving every thought from +her mind for the moment, Fledra looked at him. + +"I'd rather go with Lem," she got out at last, "'cause I couldn't stand +yer hellish pretty face nor yer white teeth. They look like them big +stones standing over the dead men out yonder." + +With a backward motion of her head toward the window, Fledra drawled out +the last words insultingly. That she preferred Lem to him wounded +Everett's pride, but made him desire her the more. He loved her just +then so much that, if it had been in his power, he would have married +her instantly. Her fine-fibered spirit attracted all the evil in him as +a magnet draws a needle. Fledra brought him from his reverie. + +"There ain't no use of my standin' here any longer," she said. "I might +as well go and ask Pappy Lon. He's better'n you." + +To let her go this way seemed intolerable. + +"Wait," he commanded, "wait! When you came in, I didn't mean to offend +you. Will you wait?" + +"If ye'll help me keep away from Pappy Lon, and will promise nothin' +will happen to Brother Horace or to Fluke." + +"I can't do that; it's impossible. But I can take you away, after you +get back to Ithaca." + +"Can I come back to Brother Horace?" + +"No, no; you can't go there again! Now, listen, Fledra Cronk. I'll marry +you as soon as you'll let me." + +Fledra's eyelids quivered. + +"I'll stay with Pappy Lon and Lem, because I love Sister Ann too well to +go with you." + +"Oh, I thought that was the reason," said Everett. "All your hard words +to me were from your tender, grateful heart. That only makes me like you +the better." + +Fledra turned to go. + +"But I don't like you, and I never will. Let me go now, because I'm +goin' down to the scow to Pappy Lon." + +Brimbecomb threw out an arm with an impetuous swing; but Fledra darted +under it. + +"Don't--don't!" she cried brokenly. "Don't you never touch me, +never--never! I don't want you to! Let me go now, please." + +Everett stepped aside and allowed her to reach the door. + +"I shall help you, if I can, child," he put in, as she sprang out. +"Remember--" + +But Fledra did not wait to hear. She was outside the door and flying +down the steps. + + * * * * * + +The wind came sharply from the north as, dejectedly, the girl made her +way to the river. She had decided to appeal to Lon, to beg her future of +him. Before she reached the scow, she could hear the gurgle of the +river, and the sound of the water came familiarly to her ears. Lem's +boat lay like a silent, black animal near the bank, and she came to a +stop at sight of it. How many times had she seen the dark boat snuggled +in the gloom as she saw it now! How many times before had the candle +twinkled from the small window, and the sign of life caused her to +shiver in fear! But, thinking of what Lon's consent for her to remain +with her dear ones meant, she mounted the gangplank and descended the +short flight of stairs. + +Lon was seated in a chair by the table, and Lem on a stool nearby. +Crabbe rose as the pale girl appeared before him; but Lon only displayed +two rows of dark teeth. It seemed to him that all his waiting was over; +that his wife's constant haunting of his strong spirit would cease, if +he could tear the girl from her high estate and watch the small head +bend under the indignities Lem would place upon her. The very fact that +she had come when he had sent for her showed the fear in which she held +him. + +Fledra unloosened her wrap from her throat as if it choked her. + +"How d'y' do, Flea?" grinned Cronk. His delight was like that of a small +boy who has captured a bright-winged butterfly in a net. + +"I got yer letter, Pappy Lon," said Fledra, overlooking his impudent +manner. + +"And ye goin' to stay, ain't ye?" gurgled Lem. + +Fledra snapped out "Nope!" to the scowman's question, without looking at +him. Her next words were directed to the squatter: + +"I've come to beg ye, Pappy Lon, to let me stay in Tarrytown. Mr. +Shellington wants to marry me." + +She was so frail, so girlishly sweet and desirable, that Lem uttered an +oath. But Lon gestured a command of silence. + +"Ye can't marry no man yit, Flea," said he. "Ye has to go back to the +hut." Determination rang in his words, and the face of the rigid girl +paled, and she caught at the table for support. "Ye see," went on Lon, +"a kid can't do a thing her pappy says she can't. I says yer to come +home to the shanty. And, if ye don't, then I'll do what I said I would. +I'll kill that dude Shellington and--" + +Before he could finish, Fledra burst in upon him. + +"Ye mustn't! Ye mustn't, Pappy Lon! I love him so! And he's so good! And +poor little Flukey is so sick, though he's gettin' better, and if I'm +happy, then he'll get well! Don't ye love us one little bit, Pappy Lon?" +She loosened her hold upon the table and neared the squatter. + +Cronk brushed his face awkwardly. The presence of his Midge filled the +scow-room, and his dead baby, wee and well beloved, goaded him to +complete his vengeance. For a few seconds he breathed hard, with +difficulty choking down sobs that shook his whole body. In a haze, the +ghost-woman wavered toward him through the long, bitter years he had +lived without her. She thrust herself between him and Fledra. The image +that his heated brain had drawn up held out a tiny spirit babe, and so +real was the apparition that he put out a trembling hand. For a moment +he groped blindly for something tangible in the nothingness before him. +Then, with a groan, he let his arm fall nerveless to his side. The +vision disappeared, and Lem's presence and even Fledra's faded; for Lon +again felt the agonizing cracking of his bones under the prison +strait-jacket, and could hear himself shrieking. + +He started up and wiped drops of water from his face. He glared at +Fledra, his decision remaining steadfast within him. Only exquisite +torture for Vandecar's flesh and blood would appease the wrath of Midge +and the pale-faced child. + +"I love ye well enough to want ye to do my will," he brought out +huskily, "and when Flukey gits well he'll come with me, too." + +Fledra braced herself for the ordeal. Lon had promised her in his +letter that sacrificing herself would mean safety for Floyd and her +lover. She would not allow him to break that promise, however much he +demanded of her. + +Cronk spoke again: + +"Ye'd better take off yer things and set down, Flea 'cause ye ain't +goin' back." + +She made no move to obey him. + +"Yes, I'm goin' back to Flukey," she said, "even if you make me come +here again. I haven't left any letter for him. But I'll come back to the +scow, and go with you and Lem, if you let Fluke stay with Mr. +Shellington. If you take him, you don't get me." + +"How ye goin' to help yerself?" Lon questioned, with a belittling sneer. + +"When I get hold of ye," put in Lem, "ye'll want to stay." + +The squatter again motioned the scowman to silence. A fear, almost a +respect, for this girl, with her solemn gray eyes and unbending manner, +dressed like the people he hated, took root within him. + +Fledra's next address to Lon ignored Lem's growling threat. + +"I didn't come to fight with you, Pappy Lon. But you've got to let me go +back and write a letter. I won't tell anybody that I'm goin' from home. +Mr. Shellington's going to New York tomorrow, to stay four or five days. +That'll give me a chance to get away, and I'll come to you again +tomorrow night. But I'll go with you only when you say that Fluke can +stay where he is. Do you hear, Pappy Lon?" + +Her face expressed such commanding hauteur, she looked so like Floyd +Vandecar when she threw up her head defiantly, that Cronk's big chest +heaved with satisfaction. To take his grudge out upon her would be +enough. He would cause her to suffer even more than had Midge. He waited +for a few moments, with his eyes fastened upon her face, before he +spoke. He remembered that she had never told him a lie nor broken a +promise. + +"Ye swear that, if I let ye go now, ye'll come back tomorry night?" + +"Yes, I swear it, if you'll swear that you'll let Fluke alone, and that +you won't ever hurt Mr. Shellington. Do you swear it?" Her voice was +toned with a desperate passion, and she bent toward the squatter in +command. + +"I swear it," muttered Lon. + +"And can I bring Snatchet with me? I want him because he's Flukey's, and +because he'll love me. Can I, Pappy Lon?" + +"Yep, damn it! ye can. Bring all the dogs in Tarrytown; but be back +tomorry night." + +"I'll come, all right; but I'm goin' now." + +As the girl turned to go, Lem lumbered to his feet. + +"I've got somethin' to say about this!" he stuttered. + +"Sit down, Lem!" commanded Lon. + +Crabbe stood still. + +"That gal don't go back tonight! She's mine! Ye gived her to me, and I +want her now." + +Lem wriggled his body between Fledra and the stairs; but the girl thrust +herself upon him with an angry snarl. + +"Don't touch me with your dirty hands!" she gasped. + +Lem caught his breath. + +"Ye've let that rich pup of a Shellington kiss ye--ye don't move from +here!" + +Fledra crushed back against the cabin wall and eluded his searching +fingers. + +"I was goin' to marry Mr. Shellington; but I ain't now. I'm going back +to him for tonight, and tomorrow, and I'm goin' to let him kiss me, and +I'm goin' to kiss him." + +She put forward her face until her breath swept Lem's skin. + +"I'm goin' to kiss him as much--as much as he'll let me. And I'm goin' +to write Fluke; and, if ye touches me afore I does all that--I'll kill +ye!" + +Lena drew back from her vehemence, leaving the way of the staircase +clear, and in another instant Fledra was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE + + +The following day Shellington left for New York, immediately after +breakfast. + +Fledra made no attempt to write her farewells until in the evening after +she had looked her last upon Floyd, and Ann had seen her to bed. An hour +passed before she got up softly and turned on the light. She fumbled +warily about her table for writing materials, and after she had found +them her tense face was bent long over the letters. When she had +finished, she stole along the hall to Horace's study, and left there the +tear-stained envelops for him and her brother. + +Once back in her room, she donned her street-clothes rapidly, and, after +taking a silent farewell of the surroundings she loved, climbed through +the window and dropped to the ground. She crept stealthily to the back +of the house and approached the dog-kennels. Through the dim light she +could see the scrawny greyhounds pulling at their leashes as she fumbled +at the wire-mesh door. Whines from several of the dogs made Fledra step +inside, whence she glanced out misgivingly to see if she had been +observed. + +"Snatchet!" she whispered. + +From a distant corner she heard the rattle of a chain. + +"Snatchet!" she called again. + +This time she spoke more loudly and advanced a step. + +"Where are ye?" + +A familiar whine gave her Snatchet's whereabouts. She felt her way +along the right wall, and as she passed each animal she spoke tenderly +to it. Upon reaching the little mongrel, Fledra placed her face down +close to him. The glitter of his shining eyes, the warm contact of his +wet tongue, brought tears from her. She told him gently that they were +going away together, going back to the country where many of the evil +persons of the world congregated. The girl took the collar from the +dog's neck and, picking him up quickly, retraced her steps. + +"We're going back to the hut, Snatchet," she told him again, "and +Fledra's going to take you because Floyd won't care when he's got Sister +Ann--and Brother Horace." At the mention of the man's name, the squatter +girl bent her head over the yellow dog and sobbed. + +Then she ran until she was far from the house; but her steps lagged more +and more as she neared the river. Long before she reached it she stopped +and sat down. How intensely she wished that her sacrifice was to wander +alone with Snatchet the rest of her days! Anything would have been +preferable to Lem and his scow. But the bargain with her enemies had +been the surrendering of herself to the canalman, and shortly she rose +and proceeded on her way to the barge. Before entering it, she raised +her eyes to the sky. Everything was at peace with the Infinite, save her +own little tortured soul. She dashed aside her tears and ascended the +gangplank, halting at the top a moment to answer Middy Burnes' familiar +call to her. She saw that Middy had his little tug under steam and was +ready to tow the scow away. Shuddering, Fledra went down the stairs into +the living-room, where Lem and Lon awaited her. + +Neither man spoke when she put Snatchet down on the floor and threw back +the lovely cloak she had received from Ann at Christmas. Lem's eyes +glittered as he looked at it. Before Fledra entered, the scowman had +been industriously tacking a sole on a big leather boot, held tightly +between his knees. Now he ceased working; the rusty hook loosened its +hold upon the heel of the boot, and the hammer was poised lightly in his +left hand. From his mouth protruded the sparkling points of some steel +tacks. + +Lon was first to break the strained silence. + +"We been waitin' a long time fer ye, Flea. Ye've kept the tug a steamin' +fer two hours." + +"I couldn't come before," replied the girl. "I had to wait till Fluke +and Sister Ann went to bed." + +Lon sneered as he repeated: + +"Sister Ann!" + +"She's the lady you saw when you were there, Pappy Lon. And she's the +best woman in all the world!" + +The squatter smiled darkly. + +"Ye'd best put Snatchet in the back room, and then come here again and +set down, Flea, 'cause it'll take a long time to get to Ithaca, and +ye'll be tired a standin'." + +His sarcasm caused no change to cross the girl's face; but Lem grinned +broadly. He took the tacks from between his teeth and made as if to +speak. After a few vain stutters, however, he replaced the tacks and +hammered away at the old boot. Now and then the goiter moved up and +down, each movement indicating the passage of a thought through his +sluggish brain. + +Fledra removed Snatchet and returned to the living-cabin, as Lon had +suggested. + +"I want to talk to you before I sit down," she said in a low tone. "What +are you going to do with me?" + +Just then the scow lurched, and the whistle of the tug ahead screamed a +farewell to Tarrytown. Fledra heard the grinding of the boat against the +landing as it was pulled slowly away, and she sprang to the window. She +took one last glimpse of the promised land, one lingering look at the +twinkling lights, which shone like glow-worms and seemed to signal +sympathy to the terrified girl. Finally she turned a tearless face to +Lon. + +"I want to know what you're going to do with me when we get to Ithaca. +Can I stay awhile with Granny Cronk?" + +She glanced fearfully from Lon to the scowman, whose lips were now free +of the nails. His wide smile disclosed his darkened teeth as he +stammered: + +"Yer Granny Cronk's been chucked into a six-foot hole in the ground, and +ye won't see her no more." + +Staring at the speaker, Fledra fell back against the wall. + +"Granny Cronk ain't dead! She ain't! You're lying, Lem Crabbe!" + +"Ask yer daddy, if ye don't believe me," grunted Lem. + +Fledra cast imploring eyes to Lon. + +"Yer granny went dead a long time ago," verified the squatter. + +"Then I can stay with you, Pappy Lon, just for a little time. Oh, Pappy +Lon," tears rose slowly, and sobs caught her throat as she advanced +toward him, "I'll cook for you, and I'll work days and nights, if I can +live with you!" She was so near him that she allowed a trembling hand to +fall upon his arm. But he spurned it, shaking it off as he growled: + +"Don't tech me! Set down and shut up!" + +She passed over the repulse and sobbed on: + +"But, Pappy Lon, I'd rather die, I'd rather throw myself in the water, +than stay with Lem in this boat! I want to tell you how I've +prayed--Sister Ann taught me to. I always asked that Flukey might stay +in Tarrytown, and that nothing would ever hurt Mr. Shellington. I never +dared pray for myself, because--because God had enough to do to help all +the other ones, and because I never asked anything for myself till you +found me. I want to stay right in the shanty with you, Pappy Lon. I +hate Lem--oh, how I hate him!" + +Lem coughed and wheezed. + +"I guess we'd better shet her claptrap once and fer all," he said. "Lon, +ye leave me to settle with Flea--I know how." + +The squatter silenced Lem with a look and rose lumberingly. As he struck +a match and made toward the steps, Fledra followed close after him. + +"Pappy Lon, if you'll stay with me here on the boat till we get to +Ithaca, then I'll do what you say when we get there. You sha'n't go and +leave me now with Lem, you sha'n't, you sha'n't!" Her voice rose to a +shriek, and her small body trembled like a leaf in a wind. So loud were +her cries, and so fiercely did she clutch at Lon's coat, that he turned +savagely upon her. + +"I'll do what I please. Shet up, or Middy'll hear ye. Git yer hands off +en me!" + +"Pappy Lon, if you leave me with Lem, then I'll jump in the river!" + +She bit her lips to stifle the sobs; but still clung beseechingly to his +coat. + +Lon stepped backward from the chair, and whirled about so quickly that +his coat was jerked from Fledra's grasp. + +"Then I'll take Fluke, and what I won't do to him ain't worth speakin' +'bout." He glanced at her face and stopped. Never had he seen such an +expression. Her bleeding lips and flaring eyes sent him a step from her. + +"If you leave me with Lem," she hissed her repetition, "then I'll jump +in the river!" Seeing that he hesitated, she went on, "You stay right +in here with Lem and me, Pappy Lon, and when we get to the hut I'll do +what you tell me." + +Fledra heard Lem drop the old boot he had been mending and advance +toward her. She turned upon him, and the scowman halted. + +"I said as how I'd settle with ye, Flea," he said, "and now I'm goin' +to." + +But Lon glared so fiercely that Crabbe closed his mouth and retreated. + +"It ain't time fer ye to settle yet, Lem, I'm a thinkin'," said Lon. "Ye +keep shet up, or I'll settle with ye afore ye has a chance to fix Flea." +Turning to the girl, he questioned her. "Did ye tell anyone ye was goin' +with me?" Fledra nodded her head. "Did ye tell Flukey?" + +"Yes, and Mr. Shellington. But I told them both that I came of my own +free will. But you know I came because I wanted Mr. Shellington to live +and Flukey to stay where he is. But I ain't going to be alone in this +room with Lem tonight--I tell you that!" + +Lon sat down and smoked moodily on his pipe. After a few minutes' +thought he said: + +"Ye can sleep in that back room where ye put the dorg, Flea, and if +there's a key in the lock ye can turn it. You come up to the deck with +me, Lem." + +With a dark scowl, the scowman followed the squatter upstairs. He had +reckoned that the hour to take Flea was near; but Lon's heavy hand held +him back. When they were standing side by side in the darkness of the +barge-deck, Cronk spoke. + +"Lem," he said, "I told ye before that Flea ain't like Flukey. She'd +just as soon throw herself into that water as she'd look at ye. She +ain't afraid of nothin' but you, and ye've got to keep yer hands offen +her till I git her foul, do ye hear?" + +"Ye ain't keepin' me away just fer the sake of that high-toned +Brimbecomb pup, be ye, Lon?" + +"Nope. I'd rather you'd have her, Lem, 'cause ye'll beat her and make +her wish a hundred times a day that she'd drowned herself. I say, if ye +let me fix this thing, ye'll come out on the top of the heap. If ye +don't, she'll raise a fuss, and, if that damned governor gets wind of +it, he might catch on that the kid be his. He'd run us both down afore +ye could say jackrabbit. Ye let Flea alone till I say ye can have her." + +"If yer dealin' fair--" + +The squatter interrupted his companion with an angry growl. + +"Have I ever cheated ye out of any money?" + +"Nope," answered Lem. + +"Then I won't cheat ye out of no girl; fer I love a five-cent piece +better'n Flea any time. Now, shet up, and we'll go down to sleep!" + + * * * * * + +Fledra fled into the back room, and, closing the door quickly, slipped +the bolt. She glanced about the cabin, which through the candlelight +looked dirty and miserably mean. But it was a haven of escape from Lem, +and she welcomed it. A large can of tobacco was on a wooden box. Fledra +knew this belonged to the canalman and that he would come after it. She +picked it up, and, opening the door, shoved it far into the other room. +She could bear Lon's muttering voice on the deck above, and the swish of +the water as the tug pulled the scow along. Once more she carefully +locked the cabin door, and then, with a sob, dropped to her knees, +burying her face in the coarse blanket that covered the bunk. Long and +wildly she wept, her sobs frequently stopping the utterance of an +attempted prayer. Finally her exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into +a troubled sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY + + +When Fledra opened her eyes the next morning she could not at first +realize where she was. When she did she rose from the bed fully dressed; +for she had taken off none of her clothing the night before. She drew a +long breath as she realized that she would not be pestered by Lem during +the trip to Ithaca. Peering through the small cabin window, she could +see that they were slowly passing the farms on the banks of the river as +the barge was towed slowly through the water. The peace of spring +overspread each field, covering the land as far as the girl could see. +Herds of cattle grazed calmly on the hills, and she could hear the faint +tinkling of their bells above the chug-chug of Middy's small steamer +ahead. At intervals fleets of barges, pulled along by struggling little +tugboats, passed between her and the bank. These would see +Tarrytown--the promised land of Screech Owl's prophecy, the paradise she +had been forced to leave! The light of self-sacrifice shone in her +uplifted eyes, and many times her sight was blurred by tears; but no +thought of escape from Lem and Lon came to her mind. To reenter her +promised land would place her beloved ones in jeopardy. + +Her reverie left her at a call from Lon, and she unfastened the +cabin-door. + +"Come out and get the breakfast fer us, Kid," ordered the squatter. + +Fledra left the little room and mechanically prepared the coarse food. +When it was ready, she took her seat opposite Cronk, and Lem dragged a +chair to the table by the aid of the hook on his arm. + +"Ye're feelin' more pert this mornin', Flea," said Lon, after drinking a +cup of black coffee. + +"Yes," replied Flea faintly. + +"And are ye goin' to mind yer pappy now?" pursued Lon. + +"Yes, after we get to Ithaca," murmured Fledra. + +"Tell me what ye said to Flukey in yer note." + +"I told him he could stay with Brother Horace; but that I'd go with you, +and--" + +Her slow precise speech made a decided impression upon Lem; for he +ceased eating and stared at her open-mouthed. But Cronk brought his fist +down on the table with a thump that rattled the tin dishes. + +"Don't be puttin' on no guff with me, brat!" he shouted. "Ye talk as I +teeched ye to, and not as them other folks do." + +Fledra fell into a resentful silence. + +After a few seconds, Cronk said: + +"Now, go on, Kid, and tell me what ye told him." + +"If you won't let me speak as I like, Pappy Lon, then I'll keep still." + +The girl faced him with brave unconcern, with such reckless defiance +that Lon drew down his already darkened brow. + +"Yer gettin' sassy!" Lem grunted, with his mouth full of food. + +Cronk held his peace. He peered at her covertly, as if he would discover +what had so changed her since the night before. Her dignity, the haughty +poise of her head as she looked straight at him, filled him with +something like dismay. Would Lem be able to subdue her with brute force? +The scowman also observed her stealthily, compared her to Scraggy, and +wondered. They both waited for Fledra to continue; but during the rest +of the meal she did not speak again. + + * * * * * + +Miss Shellington was deeply surprised when the deputy met her with an +open letter in his hand, and said: + +"The court has called me away, Ma'm. I guess your troubles are all +over." + +For a moment Ann did not comprehend the meaning of his words. Then she +laid a trembling hand on his arm and faltered: + +"Possibly they'll send someone else; but I'd much rather you'd stay. We +are--we are used to you." + +"Thanks, Ma'm; but no one else won't come--the case has been called +off." + +Increasing excitement reddened Miss Shellington's cheeks. + +"Oh, do you think they are going to leave them here with us?" + +The deputy buttoned his coat and put on his hat. + +"I'm sure I don't know; but I'd almost think so, or I wouldn't have got +this order." He tapped his breast-pocket and made as if to go; but he +faced the other once more instead, with slightly rising color. "You +still have your doctor's orders, Miss, that nobody can take the boy away +for sometime; so don't worry. And, Ma'm," the red in his face deepened, +"you ain't prayed all these weeks for nothing. I ain't much on praying +myself; but I've got a lot of faith in a pretty, good young lady when +she does it. Goodby, Ma'm." + +As Ann bade the officer farewell, the relief from haunting fears and +racking possibilities almost overcame her. She went back to Floyd, +resolutely holding up under the strain. She told him that the stranger +had gone; but that, as she had received no communication, she did not +know the next steps that would be taken. + +It was nearly nine o'clock when Ann tapped softly upon Fledra's door. +There had been no sign of life from the blue room that morning; for Miss +Shellington had given orders that Fledra be allowed to sleep if she so +wished. Now, however, she wanted the girl to come to the dining-room to +welcome Flukey to his first meal at the table and to learn that the +deputy had been withdrawn. When no voice answered her knock, Ann turned +the handle of the door and peeped in. Fledra's bed was open, and looked +as if its occupant had just got up. Miss Shellington passed through to +the bathroom, and called. She ran back hastily to the bed and put her +hand upon it. The sheets were cold, while the pillow showed only a faint +impression where Fledra's dark head had rested. Miss Shellington paused +and glanced about, fright taking the place of expectancy on her face. +She hurried to the open window and looked out. Then she rushed to the +kitchen and questioned the servants. None of them had seen Fledra, all +were earnestly certain that the girl had not been about the house during +the morning. Ann thought of Floyd, and for the nonce her fears were +forced aside. In spite of her anxiety, she had a smile on her lips as +she entered the breakfast-room and took her seat opposite the boy. + +"We'll have to eat without Sister this morning," she said gently to the +convalescent. "She's a tired little girl." + +"She'd be glad to see me here," said Floyd wistfully. "Sister Ann, +what's the matter with Fledra?" + +Miss Shellington would have given much to have been able to answer this +question. Finally her alarm became so strong that she left her breakfast +unfinished, and, unknown to Floyd, instituted a systematic search for +the girl. Many were the excuses she made to the waiting young brother as +the day lengthened hour by hour. Again and again he demanded that +Fledra be brought to him. At length the parrying of his questions by +Miss Shellington aroused his suspicions, so that he grew nervous and +fretful. Five o'clock came, and yet no tidings of the girl. Ann's +anxiety had now become distraction; for her brother's absence threw upon +her shoulders the responsibility of the girl's disappearance, and the +care of Floyd should he suffer a relapse. Her perturbation became so +unbearable that she put her pride from her, and sought the aid of +Everett Brimbecomb. + +She called him on the telephone, and, when his voice answered her +clearly over the wire, she felt again all her old desire to be with him; +her agitation and uncertainty increased her longing. + +"Everett, I'm in dreadful trouble. Can't you come over a moment?" + +"Of course, dear girl. I'll come right away." + +Not many minutes later Ann herself ushered Everett into the +drawing-room, where she had spent such happy hours with him. But, when +they were alone, her distrust of him once more took possession of her, +and she looked sharply at him as she asked: + +"Everett, do you know where Fledra has gone?" + +"Who? Fledra Vandecar?" His taunt was untimely, and his daring smile +changed her distrust to repulsion. + +"No; you know whom I mean--Fledra Cronk. She's, not here. Horace has +gone away for a few days, and I'm wild with anxiety. Will you help me +find her, Everett? She must be here with us until it is decided which +way the matter will go." + +They had been standing apart; but the girl's words drew him closer, and +he took her hand in his. He had truly missed her, and was glad to be in +her confidence once more. + +"Ann, you've never been frank with me in this matter; but I'm going to +return good for evil. I really don't know where the girl is; still, +anything I can do I will. But I do know that her father has seen her; +for he told me about it. It was--" + +Ann cut him off with a sharp cry: + +"But he's seen her only the once, Everett--only that one afternoon when +he first came." + +This time Everett answered with heart-rending deliberateness: + +"You're mistaken, Ann. Your paragon got out of the window when you were +all asleep," Ann's sudden pallor disturbed the lawyer only an instant, +and, not heeding her clutch on his arm or a pained ejaculation from her, +he proceeded, "and went to her father. He told me this. Ann, don't be +stupid. Don't totter that way. Sit down, here, child. No, don't push me +away.... Well, as you please!" + +"Oh, you seem so heartless about it," gasped Ann, "when you know how +Horace loves her!" + +Miss Shellington did not notice the smile that crossed his lips as he +looked down at her, or the triumph in his eyes when he said: + +"But, Ann, I've told you only what you've asked of me. I think you're +rather unkind, Dear." + +"I don't intend to be," she moaned, leaning back and closing her eyes. +"Oh! she was with us so long! What shall I say to Horace?" + +"Didn't you say he was out of town?" + +"Yes, for four or five days," Ann put the wrong meaning to Everett's +deep sigh, and she finished; "but I'm going to send for him." + +"And, pray, what can he do? The girl is gone, and that ends it." + +"But Horace might ascertain if she had been forced to go." + +Brimbecomb laughed low. + +"No one could force her to jump from the window of her bedroom." + +"Everett, Fledra has always said that she hated her father, and that she +never wanted to go back to him, because he abused both her and her +brother." + +"Yes, so you told me before, and I think I remember telling you that you +were making a mistake in trusting in her truthfulness. It seems her +brother told her that he did not wish to return with the squatter; so +she left him here with you. For my part," Everett pressed closer to her, +"I'm glad that she is gone. The coming of those children completely +changed both you and Horace. You'll get used to ingratitude before +you've done much charity work." + +Ann's intuition increased her disbelief in the man opposite her. + +"Everett, will you swear to me that you had nothing to do with her +going?" + +Brimbecomb swore glibly enough, and supplemented his oath with: + +"I've always felt, though, that you should not have them here; and I +can't say that I shouldn't have taken them away, if I could, Ann. Don't +you think we could overlook past unpleasantness, and let our +arrangements go on as we intended they should?" + +Ann rose hastily to her feet. She was sorely tempted to fall into his +arms. How handsome he looked, how strongly his eyes pleaded with her! +But her vague fears and distrust held her back. She sank again to the +chair. + +"No, no--not just yet, Everett," she said. "I've loved you dearly; but I +can't understand Fledra's disappearance. Oh, I--I don't know how to +meet Horace! He loved and trusted her so!" Again she looked at him with +indecision. "Come back to me, Dear," she whispered, "when it is all +over. I'm so unhappy today!" + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE + + +Floyd raised his head when Ann bent over him. Agitation and sorrow had +so altered her that the change brought him to a half-sitting position. + +"Flea's sick, I bet!" he burst out, without waiting to be addressed. +"Don't try to fool me, Sister Ann." + +As his suspicion grew within him, his eyes traveled over her face again +and again; then he put his feet on the floor and stood up. + +"Ye didn't tell me the truth this morning, did ye?" + +Miss Shellington forced him gently back on the divan, and sat down +beside him. + +"I'd hoped, Floyd, dear," she said tremblingly, "that we were all going +to be happy. You must be brave and help me, won't you? If you should +become ill again, I think I should die." + +"Then, tell me about Flea. Has Pappy Lon--" + +"Fledra went back to him last night of her own free will." + +With eyes growing wide from fear, Floyd stared at her. + +"I don't know what you mean! Did she tell ye she was a goin'?" + +"No, Dear. This morning Fledra was not in her bedroom, and for awhile I +thought she had not heeded our cautions, but had gone out for a walk. +But Mr. Brimbecomb has just told me that Fledra went back with your +father, and that, she had not been forced to go." + +"I don't believe it!" The boy's voice was sharp with agony. "Pappy Lon +made her go--ye can bet on that, Sister Ann! Flea wouldn't go back +there without a reason. I bet that big duffer of yours had a finger in +the pie." + +Ann flushed painfully. + +"Floyd, dear, don't, I beg of you!" + +"I'm sorry I said that, Sister Ann. But Flea didn't go for nothin'. +Sister Ann, will you and Brother Horace find out why she went? I have to +go, too, if Flea's in the hut. Pappy Lon and Lem'll kill her!" + +He attempted to rise; but Ann's restraining hand held him back. + +"Floyd, Floyd, dear, we don't know where she's gone; but my brother will +come soon, and he'll find her. He won't let Fledra be kept from us, if +she wants to come back." + +The boy's rigid body did not relax at her assurance, nor did her +argument lessen his determination. + +"But what about Lem? You don't know Lem, Sister Ann. He's the worst man +I ever see. I've got to go and get my sister!" + +"Floyd, you'd die if you should try to go out now. Why, Dear, you can +scarcely stand. Now, listen! I'll send a telegram to my brother, and +he'll be right back. Then, if you are determined to go, and can, he'll +take you. Why, child, you haven't been out in weeks!" + + * * * * * + +Three days crawled slowly along, and yet Horace made no response to the +many frantic telegrams that Ann had sent. Never had the hours seemed so +leaden-winged as those passed waiting for him to come. Ann had received +one note from him, and three letters for Fledra lay unopened in the +girl's room. His note to Ann was from Boston, and she immediately sent a +despatch to him there. + +On the fourth day after Fledra's disappearance, when Ann met her +brother, one glance told her that he was unaware of their trouble. + +"Oh, Horace, I thought you'd never get here! Didn't you receive any of +my telegrams?" + +"No! What's the matter? Has something happened to Floyd? Where's +Fledra?" + +"Gone!" gasped Ann. + +"Gone! Gone where?" + +His voice was filled with imperious questioning, and Ann stifled her +sobs. + +"I know only what Everett has told me. When we got up the morning after +you left, she was gone. I called Everett over, and he told me she went +with her father of her own free will. The squatter told him so." + +"He's a liar! And if he's inveigled that girl--" + +Ann's loyalty to Everett forced her to say: + +"Hush, Horace! You've no right to say anything against him until you are +sure." + +Shellington took several rapid strides around the room. + +"If I'd only known it before!" + +"I've tried to reach you," Ann broke in; "but my messages could not have +been delivered." + +"Oh, I'm not blaming you, Ann," he said in a lower tone. "But those men +in some way have forced her to go. I'm sure of it! Fledra would never +have gone with them willingly. Did she leave no message, no word? Have +you searched my room? Have you looked every where?" + +"No, I didn't look in your room--it didn't enter my mind. Why didn't I +think of that before? Come, we'll look now." + +Under the large blotter on his desk Horace found the two tear-stained +letters Fledra had left. With a groan the frantic lover tore open the +one directed to him and read it. + +"She's gone with them!" he said slowly in a hollow voice, and sank into +a chair. + +Miss Shellington took the note from his outstretched hand, and read: + + "_Mr. Shellington_.-- + + "I'm going away because I don't like your house any more. Let Floyd + stay and let your sister take care of him like when I was here. + Give him this letter and tell him I'll love him every day. I took + Snatchet because I thought I'd be lonely. Goodby." + +The last words were almost illegible. With twitching face, Ann handed +the letter back to Horace. + +In the man before her she almost failed to recognize her brother, so +great was the change that had come over him. She threw her arms tenderly +about him, and for many minutes neither spoke. At length, with a start, +Horace loosened his sister's arms and stood up. + +"Give Floyd his note--and leave me alone for a while, Dear." + +His tone served to hasten Ann's ready obedience. She took the note for +Floyd and went out. + +Four times Horace read and reread his letter. He was tortured with a +thousand fears. Where had she gone, and with whom? And why should she +have left him, when she had so constantly and sincerely evinced her love +for him? She could not have gone back to the squatters; for her hatred +of them had been intense. He remembered what she had told him of Lem +Crabbe--and sprang to his feet with an oath. Hot blood rushed to his +fingertips, and left them dripping with perspiration. He fought with a +desire to kill someone; but banished the thought that Fledra had not +held faith with him. He called to mind her affection and passionate +devotion, and knew that to doubt her would be unjust. But, if to leave +him had made her unhappy, why had she gone? He thought of Floyd's +letter, and a sudden wish to read it seized him. + +When he entered the boy's room Floyd was lying flat on his back, staring +fixedly at Miss Shellington, who was deciphering the letter for him. She +ceased reading when her brother appeared. + +"Horace," she said, rising, "Floyd says he doesn't believe that Fledra +went of her own free will. He thinks she was forced in some way." + +Horace stooped and looked into the boy's white face, at the same time +taking Fledra's letter from Ann. + +"Flea can't make me think, Brother Horace," said Flukey, "that she went +'cause she wanted to. Pappy Lon made her go, I bet! There's something we +don't know. I want you to take me up there to Ithaca, and when I get +there I can find her. Prayin' won't keep her from Lem. We've got to do +something." + +Horace shot a glance of inquiry at his sister. + +"We prayed every morning, Dear," she said simply, "that our little girl +might be protected from harm." + +"She shall be protected, and I will protect her! Where's the deputy?" + +"They called him away the morning Fledra left." + +"May I read your letter, Floyd?" + +"Sure!" replied the boy wearily. + +Shellington's eyes sought the paper in his hand: + + "_Floyd love_.-- + + "I'm going away, but I will love you every day I live. Floyd, could + you ask Sister Ann to pray for everyone--me, too? Forgive me for + taking Snatchet--I wanted him awfully. You be good to Sister Ann + and always love Brother Horace and mind every word he says. I'm + going away because I want to. Remember that, Floyd dear, goodby. + + "FLEDRA." + +After finishing the letter, Horace said to Ann, "I must see Brimbecomb +at once." And he turned abruptly and went out. Ann followed him +hurriedly. + +"Horace, dear, you won't quarrel with him, for my sake." + +"Not unless he had a hand in taking her away. God! I'm so troubled I +can't think." + +Ann watched him go to the telephone; then, with a premonition of even +greater coming evil, she crept back to Floyd. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO + + +When Horace ushered Brimbecomb into his home, so firm was his belief +that the young lawyer had been instrumental in removing Fledra that he +restrained himself with difficulty from wringing a confession from the +man by violence. For many moments he could not bring himself to broach +the subject of which his mind was so full. Everett, however, soon led to +the disappearance of the girl. + +"I'm glad you telephoned me so soon after your arrival," said +Brimbecomb. "I was just starting for the station. If you hadn't, I +shouldn't have seen you. I had something to say to you." + +"And I have something to say to you," said Horace, his eyes steadily +leveled at the man before him. "Where is Fledra Cronk?" + +Everett's confidence gave him a power that was not to be daunted by this +direct question. + +"My dear fellow," he replied calmly, "I don't exactly know where she is; +but I can say that I've had a note from her father, telling me that she +was with him in New York, and safe. I suppose it won't be necessary to +tell you that she was not compelled to go?" + +Horace whitened with suppressed rage. He was now convinced that the +suavity of his colleague concealed a craftiness he had never suspected, +and he felt sure that Everett had taken advantage of his absence to +strike an underhanded blow. Banishing a desire to fell the other to the +floor and then choke the secret from him, he decided to ply all the +craft of his profession, and draw the knowledge from Brimbecomb by a +series of pertinent queries. + +"May I see the communication you have received from Cronk?" + +Everett seemed to have expected the question; for he made a brave +pretense of looking through his wallet for the fictitious letter. He +took up the space of several minutes, arranging and rearranging the +documents. Then, as he looked at Horace, a paper fluttered to the floor, +unobserved by him. + +"On second thought," said he, "I think it wouldn't be quite right to +show you a private letter from one of my clients. I have told you enough +already. I'm sorry, but it's impossible for me to let you see it." + +Everett mentally congratulated himself upon his diplomacy, while Horace +bit his lip until it was ridged white. In his disappointment he cast +down his eyes, and then it was that his attention was called to the +paper Brimbecomb had dropped on the floor. He changed his position, and +when he came to a standstill his foot was planted squarely on the paper. +For a moment Horace was under the impression that Everett had seen him +cover the letter; but the unruffled egotism on the face of the other +betrayed no suspicion. + +"Who ordered the withdrawal of the deputy?" Horace demanded. + +Everett knew that the lies he told would have to be consistent; so he +repeated what he had said to Ann. + +"I don't know," Everett said. "I didn't." + +Horace gazed at his companion for several seconds. + +"Something tells me that you're lying," he said finally. + +An evil change of expression was the only external sign of Brimbecomb's +longing to throttle Horace. + +"A compliment, I must say, my dear Shellington," he said; "and the only +reason I have for not punching you is--Ann." + +The other's eyes narrowed ominously. + +"Ann is the one who is keeping me from thumping you, Brimbecomb. If you +know anything of Fledra Cronk, I want you to tell me." + +"I've told you all I know," Everett answered. + +"For Ann's sake, I hope you've told me the truth; but, if you haven't, +and have done anything to my little girl, then God protect you!" + +The last words were uttered with such emotional decision that Everett's +first real fear rose within him. With difficulty he held back a torrent +of words by which he might exonerate himself. Instead, he said: + +"Some day, Shellington, you'll apologize to me for your implied +accusation. You have taken--" + +"Pardon me," Horace interrupted, "but I must ask you to leave. I'm going +to Governor Vandecar." + +No sooner had his visitor closed the door than Horace stooped and picked +up the paper from under his foot. Going to the window, he opened the +sheet, smoothed it out, and read: + + "_Mr. Brimbecomb_.-- + + "I told you I got the letter you wrote me, and you know I can't + ever love you. I hate your kisses--they made me lie to Sister Ann, + and I couldn't tell Brother Horace how it happened. I am going back + to Lem and Pappy Lon to Ithaca because you and Pappy Lon said as + how I must or they would kill Brother Horace. But I hate you, I + hate you--and I will always hate you. + + FLEDRA CRONK." + +Like a brand of fire, every word seared the reader's brain. As his hand +crushed the letter, Horace's head dropped down on his arm, and deep sobs +shook him. The girl had gone for his sake, and was now braving +unspeakable dangers to save him from an evil trumped up by his enemies. +Tense-muscled, he sprang to his feet and rushed into the hall. + +"My God! What a fool I've been! Ann, Ann! Here, read this!" His words, +pronounced in a voice unlike his own, were almost incoherent. He threw +the paper at the trembling girl, as he continued, "Brimbecomb dropped it +on the floor. Now I think Governor Vandecar will help me! I'm going to +Ithaca!" + +With the letter held tightly in her hands, the woman read over twice the +pitiful denunciation; then, tearless and strong, she went to her +brother. + +"What--what are you going to do for her first, Dear?" + +"I must go to Albany and see the governor." + + * * * * * + +In the flurry of the departure little more was said, and before an hour +had passed Horace Shellington had taken the train for Albany. He had +instructed Ann to tell Floyd what had induced Fledra to leave them, and +Ann lost no time in communicating the contents of the little +tear-stained letter written to Everett. + +Later in the day Ann received a telegram from her brother in which she +learned that he had missed the governor, who was on his way to +Tarrytown. Horace said, also, that he himself was starting for Ithaca by +way of Auburn. Ann sat down beside Floyd and read the message to him. + +"Did he say," asked the boy, "that the governor was comin' here to +Tarrytown?" + +"Yes." + +For many moments Floyd lay deep in thought. + +"I'm goin' to Governor Vandecar's myself. If he's the big man ye say he +is, then he can help us. Get me my clothes, Sister Ann." + +"It won't do any good, Floyd," argued Ann. "Governor Vandecar has always +thought that your father ought to have his children. He doesn't realize +how you've suffered through him." + +"I'm goin', anyway," insisted Floyd doggedly. "Get my clothes, Sister +Ann. I can walk." + +"No, you mustn't walk, Deary, you can't; we'll drive. But I wish you +wouldn't go out at all, Floyd. Do listen to me!" + +"But I must go. Please, get my clothes." + +After brief, but vain, arguing, Ann yielded to Floyd's entreaties. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE + + +The governor, meditating in his library, was disturbed by a ring at the +front door. The servant opened it, and he heard Miss Shellington's voice +without. + +In a moment Ann entered, white and flurried. + +"I want you to pardon me, Floyd," she begged, "but that boy of ours +insisted upon coming to see you. He would have come alone, had I refused +to accompany him. Will you be kind to him for my sake? He is so +miserable over his sister!" + +Vandecar clasped her extended hands and smiled upon her. + +"I'll be kind to him for his own sake, little friend. Mrs. Vandecar told +me of her talk with Horace over the telephone, and I was awfully sorry +to have missed him. But the little boy, where is he?" + +Miss Shellington threw open the door, and Vandecar's gaze fell upon a +tall boy, straight and slim, who pierced him with eyes that startled him +into a vague apprehension. He did not utter a word--he seemed to be +choked as effectually as if strong fingers were sunk into his throat. + +Floyd loosened his hands from Ann's and stepped forward. + +"I'm Flukey Cronk, Sir," he broke forth, "and Pappy Lon Cronk stole my +sister Flea, and he's goin' to give her to Lem Crabbe to be his woman, +and Lem won't marry her, either. Will ye help me to get her back? +Brother Horace said as how ye could. Pappy Lon's a thief, too, and so is +Lem. If ye'd see Lem Crabbe, ye'd help my sister." + +Ann saw two pairs of mottled brown eyes staring at each other, and, as +she listened to Floyd's petition, the likeness of the boy to the man +struck her forcibly. The expression that swept over Governor Vandecar's +face frightened her, and she held her breath. But quicker than hers had +been the thoughts of the man. He staggered at the name of "Lon Cronk," +and his mind coursed back to a heart-rending scene, to hear again the +deep voice of a big-shouldered thief pleading for a sick woman. Again he +saw the huge form of the squatter loom up before him, and heard once +more the frantic prayer for a week's freedom. He had not taken his eyes +from the boy's, and a weakening of his knees compelled him to grip the +back of the chair for support. With a voice thickened to huskiness, he +stammered: + +"What--what did you say your father's name was, boy?" + +"Lon Cronk, Sir--and he's the worst man ye ever see. I bet he's the +worst man in the state--only Lem Crabbe! He beat my sister, and were +makin' me a thief." + +Governor Vandecar dropped into his desk-chair. For a space of time his +face was concealed from Ann and Floyd by his quivering hand. When he +looked up, the joy in his eyes formed a strange contrast to Ann's +tearful face. Floyd, thinking the change in the governor boded well for +Fledra, advanced a step. + +"Sit down, boy," said the governor in a voice that was still hoarse. +"Now, then, answer me a few questions. Did your father ever live in +Syracuse?" + +"Yep, me and Flea were born there." + +"How old are you?" + +"Comin' sixteen." + +"And your sister? Tell me about her. Is she--how old is she?" + +"We be twins," replied Floyd steadily. + +The girl, watching the unfolding of a life's tragedy, was silent even to +hushing her breathing. The truth was slowly dawning upon her. How well +she knew the story of the kidnapped children! How often had her own +heart bled for the tender mother, spending endless days in vain +mourning! She saw Governor Vandecar stand, saw him sway a little, and +then turn toward the door. + +"Governor, Governor!" she called tremulously, "I feel as if I were going +to faint. Oh, can't you see it all? Where is Mrs. Vandecar?" + +"Stay, Ann, stay! Wait! Boy, have you ever had any reason to believe +that you were not the son of Lon Cronk?" Through fear of making a +mistake, he had asked this question. He knew that, should he plant false +hope in the timid mother he had shielded for years, she would be unable +to bear it. + +"Nope," replied Floyd wonderingly; "only that he hated me and Flea. He +were awful to us sometimes." + +"There can be no mistake," Ann thrust in. "He looks too much like you, +and the girl is exactly like him.... Oh, Floyd!" + +Vandecar extended his arms, and, with a sob that shook his soul, drew +his boy to him. + +"You're not Cronk's son," he said; "you're mine!... God! Ann, you'll +never know just how I feel toward you and Horace. You've made me your +life debtor; but, of course--of course, I didn't know, did I?" Then, +startled by a new thought, he realized Floyd. "But my girl!" + +"Horace has gone for her," Ann cried. + +"And I will follow him," groaned Vandecar. "Horace--and he could not +interest me in my own babies! If I'd helped him, my little girl wouldn't +have been taken away!" + +In the man's breakdown, Ann's calm disappeared. Unable to restrain her +tears, she fluttered about, first to Floyd, then to his father, kissing +the boy again and again, assuring and reassuring the governor. + +"Just remember," she whispered, bending over the sobbing man, "Horace +loves her better than anything in the world. Listen, Floyd! He's going +to marry her. Don't you think he'll do everything in his power to save +her?... Don't--don't sob that way!" + +Of a sudden Vandecar leaped to his feet. Brushing a lock of white hair +from his damp brow, he turned to Floyd. + +"Before I do anything else, I must take you to your mother." + +"But ain't ye goin' for Flea?" demanded Floyd. + +"Of course, I am going for my girl," cried Vandecar, "as fast as a train +can take me!" He turned suddenly and placed his firm hands on the boy's +shoulders. "Before I take you upstairs, boy, listen to me! You've a +little mother, a sick little mother who has mourned you and your sister +for years. I'm going to leave her with you while I'm gone for your +sister. Your mother is ill, and--and needs you!" + +Still more interested in his absent sister than in his newly found +parent, Floyd put in: + +"I'll do anything ye say, if ye'll go for Flea." + +Ann touched the father's arm gently. + +"Come upstairs now." + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Vandecar was alone when her husband entered. She was sitting near +the window, her eyes pensive and sad. The governor advanced a step, +thrusting back the desire to blurt out the truth. The woman glanced into +his eyes, and the change there brought her to her feet. Her face paled, +and she put out her slender, trembling hands. + +"There's something the matter, Floyd.... What's--what's happened?... I +heard the bell ring." + +In an instant he crushed her to him, and in an agitated voice whispered +gently: + +"Darling, can you stand very good news--very, very good news, indeed?... +No, no; if you tremble like that, I sha'n't tell you. It's only when you +promise me--" + +"I promise, I promise, Floyd! Is it anything about our--our children?" + +"Yes--I have found them!" + +How many times for lesser things had she fainted! How many hours had she +lain too weak to speak! He expected her now to evince her frail spirit. +He felt her shiver, felt her muscles tighten, until she seemed to grow +taller as he held her. Then she drooped a little, as if afraid. Dazedly +she brushed back her tumbled hair, her eyes flashing past him in the +direction of the door. + +"Bring--bring them--to--me!" she breathed. + +Just how to explain her daughter's danger pressed heavily upon him. He +dared not picture Lon Cronk or the man Floyd had described. To gain a +moment, he said: + +"I will, Dear; but only one of them is here. The other one--" + +"Which one is here?" + +"The boy, Sweetheart, our own Floyd." + +Although she was shaking like a leaf, Vandecar saw that she was not +fainting, and when she struggled to be free he released her. She +staggered a little, and said helplessly: + +"Then, why--why don't you bring--him to me?" + +"I will, if you'll sit down and let me tell you something." He knelt +beside her and spoke tenderly: + +"Sweetheart, our children have been near us for months. They came to Ann +and Horace--" + +Fledra Vandecar gave a glad little cry. + +"It was he, then, the pretty boy that prayed! Oh, Floyd, something told +me! But you said he was here alone. Where is my girl?" + +"That's what I want to tell you, Fledra. Look at me, dear heart." + +The eyes, wandering first from his face, then to the door, fell upon +him. They seemed to demand the truth, and he dared not utter a lie to +her. + +"By some crooked work, which Everett and the squatter--" + +His words brought back Horace's story. A strange horror paled her cheeks +and widened her eyes. + +"That man, the one who called himself her father, took her back to +Ithaca. Is that what you wanted to tell me?" + +As she attempted to rise, Vandecar pushed her gently back into the chair +and said: + +"I'm going for her, Beloved, and Horace has already gone--Wait--wait!" + +Vandecar was at the door in an instant, and when he opened it Ann +appeared, leading Floyd by the hand. Mrs. Vandecar's eyes fastened +themselves upon the boy, and, when Ann pushed him toward her, she rose +and held out her arms. + +Floyd was taller than she, and he stood considering her calmly, almost +critically. He had been told by Miss Shellington that he would see his +mother, and as he looked a hundred things tore through his mind in a +single instant. This little woman, with fluttering white hands extended +toward him, was his--his very own! He felt suddenly uplifted with a +masculine desire to protect her. She looked so tiny, so frail! He was +filled with strength and power, and so glad was his heart that it sang +loudly and thumped until he heard a buzzing behind his ears. Suddenly he +blurted out: + +"I'd a known ye were mine if I'd a met ye any place!" + +Governor Vandecar hurriedly left them and telephoned for a special train +to take him to Ithaca. He entered his library and summoned Katherine. He +talked long to her in low tones, and when he had finished he put his arm +about the weeping girl and said softly: + +"And you'll come with us, Katherine, dear, and help me bring back my +girl? I shall ask Ann to go with us." + +"Oh, uncle, dear, you know I will go! And, oh, how glad I am that you've +found them!" + +"Thank you, child. Now, if you'll run away and make the necessary +preparations, we'll start immediately." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR + + +During the days of the passage through the Erie Canal, Fledra had +remained on the deck of the scow when it was light. The spring days were +beautiful, too beautiful to be in accord with her sadness. Yet only when +they entered into Cayuga Lake did acute apprehension rise within her. +They were now in familiar waters, and she knew the end would soon come. +At every thought of Lem, Fledra shuddered; for never did his eyes rest +upon her, nor did he approach her, but that she felt the terror of his +presence--the sight of him sent a wave of horror through her. Much as +she dreaded the wrath of Cronk, much more did she fear Crabbe's eyes, +when, half-covered with squinting lids, they pierced her like gimlets. +Snatchet was her only comfort, and she lavished infinite affection upon +him. Night crowded the day from over Cayuga, and still Fledra and +Snatchet remained in the corner, near the top of the stairs. The girl +watched pensively the lights upon the hills lose their steadiness, as +the scow drew farther away from them, until with a final twinkle they +disappeared into the darkness behind. The churning of the tug's +propeller dinned continually in Flea's ears; but was not loud enough to +make inaudible the sound of a footstep. Lon came to the top of the +stairs; but did not speak. He shuffled to the boat's bow, and with a +mighty voice bawled to Burnes: + +"Slack up a little, Middy! I want to come aboard the tug." + +The words floated back to Fledra, and she half-rose, but again sank to +the deck. Lon was leaving her alone with Lem! The tug stopped, and the +momentum of the barge sent it close to the little steamer. When the gap +between the boats was not too wide, Lon sprang to the stern of the tug, +and again Middy's small craft pulsated with life, and again the rope +stretched taut between the two vessels. + +As the gloom of the night deepened, Fledra could no more discern the +outline of the steamer ahead, only its stern light disclosing its +position. For some moments she scarcely dared breathe. Suddenly a light +burst over the crest of the hills opposite, and the edge of the moon's +disk rose higher and higher, until the glowing ball threw its soft, pale +light over Cayuga and the surrounding country. Once more the tug took +form, and the deck of the scow was revealed to the girl in all its +murkiness. Shaking with anxiety, she allowed her eyes to rove about +until they riveted themselves upon two glittering spots peering at her +over the top step from the shadow of the stairway. A low growl from +Snatchet did not disturb the fascination the evil eyes held for her. It +seemed as if goblin hands reached out to touch her; as if supernatural +objects and evil human things menaced her from all sides. The crouching +figure of the scowman became more distinct as he sneaked over the top +step and edged toward her. A sudden morbid desire came over the girl to +throw herself into the water. She rose unsteadily to her feet, with +Snatchet still clutched in her arms. She threw one appealing glance at +the tug--then, before she could cry out or move, Lem was at her side. + +"Don't ye so much as open yer gab," he muttered, "or I'll hit ye with +this!" + +The steel hook was held up dangerously near her face, and the threat of +it rendered her dumb. + +"Yer pappy be a playin' me dirt, and I won't let him. Ye're goin' to be +my woman, if I has to kill ye! See?" + +No sign of help came to the girl from the tug, nor dared she force a cry +from her lips. + +"Yer pappy says as how I can't marry ye," went on Lem, in the same +whisper, "and I don't give a damn about that--- only, ye don't leave +this scow to go to no hut! Ye stay here with me!" + +Fledra had wedged herself more tightly into the corner, hugging the +snarling Snatchet closer. As she backed, the scowman came nearer, his +hot breath flooding her face. + +"Put down that there dorg!" he hissed. Snatchet did not cease growling, +and the baring of his teeth sent Lem back a step or two. "If he bites +me, Flea, I'll knock his brains clean plumb out of him!" + +With this threat, the scowman came to her again, stretching out his left +hand to touch her. Snatchet sent out a bark that was half-yelp and +half-growl, and before the man could withdraw his fingers the dog had +buried his teeth deep in them. With a wrathful cry, the scowman jumped +back, then lunged forward, wrenched the dog from Fledra's arms, and +pitched him over the edge of the barge into the lake. The girl heard the +dog give a frightened howl, and saw the splash of water in the moonlight +as he fell. + +He was all she had--a yellow bit she had taken with her from the +promised land, a morsel of the life that both she and Floyd loved. With +a shove that sent Lem backward, she freed herself and peered over the +side. Snatchet had come to the surface, and in his vain effort to reach +the scow his small paws were making large watery rings, which contorted +the reflection of the moon strangely. He seemed so little, so powerless +in the vast expanse, that Fledra, forgetful of her skirts and the +handicap they would put upon her, leaped from the scow. Lem saw the +water close over her head, and for many seconds only little bubbles and +ripples disturbed that part of the lake where her body had sunk. An +instant he stood hesitant, then he rushed to the bow. + +"Lon, Lon!" he roared. "Flea's jumped overboard!" + +The churning of the tug suddenly stopped, and the canalman saw Lon's big +body pass through the moonlight into the water. + +The scow was soon close to the tug, and together Lem and Middy Burnes +examined the lake's surface for a sight of the man and the girl. Many +minutes passed. Then a shout from the rear sent Lem running to the stern +of the scow which was now at a standstill. He looked down, and on Lon's +arm he saw Fledra, pressing Snatchet against her breast. With his other +hand the squatter was clinging to the rudder. + +"Here she is!" Cronk called. "Grab her up, Lem!" + +The scowman relieved Lon of his burden and carried the half-drowned girl +below, whither the squatter, dripping with water, quickly followed. +Snatchet was directly in his path, and he kicked the dog under the +table. At the yelp, Fledra lifted her head, and Lon bent over her. + +"What'd ye jump in the lake for, Flea?" he asked. + +Still somewhat dazed, Fledra failed to answer. + +"Were ye meanin' to drown yer self?" + +The girl shook her head, and glanced fearfully at Lem. "Were ye a +worryin' her, Lem Crabbe?" demanded the squatter hoarsely. + +"I were a tryin' to kiss her," growled Lem. "A man can kiss his own +woman, can't he? And that dog bit me. Look at them fingers!" Through the +dim candlelight Lem's sullenness answered the dark look that Lon threw +on him. + +"I don't give a damn for yer fingers," Lon snarled, "and she ain't yer +woman yet, and she wouldn't be nuther, if ye weren't the cussedest man +livin'. Now listen while I tell ye this: If ye don't let that gal be, +ye'll never get her, and I'll smack yer head off ye, if I has to say +that again! Do ye want me to say that ye can't never have her?" + +"Nope," cowered Lem. + +"Then mind yer own business and get out of this here cabin! I'll see to +Flea." + +Fledra had faith that Lon Cronk would do as he promised. How often had +there come to her mind the times when she was but a little girl the +squatter had said when he would whip her, and she had waited in +shivering terror through the long day until the big thief returned +home--he never forgot his anger of the morning. Fledra winced as her +imagination brought back the deliberate blows that had fallen upon her +bare skin, and tears rushed to her lids at the memory of Floyd's cries, +when he, too, had suffered under the strength of the powerful squatter. +She was glad she could now at least rest free from Lem until the hut was +reached, and then, if only something should happen to soften Cronk's +heart, how hard she would work for him! + + * * * * * + +The next morning the barge approached the squatter settlement, and +Fledra was once more on deck. She wondered what Floyd had said when he +received her letter, and if he believed that she had gone of her own +free will. What had Ann said--and Horace? The thought of her lover +caused bitter tears to rain between her fingers. But she stifled her +sobs, and a tiny, happy flutter brightened her heart when she thought of +how she had saved them all. Below she heard a conversation between Lem +and Lon, and listened. + +She first heard the voice of the squatter: "It's almost over, Lem, and +then we'll go back to stealin' when ye get Flea. She can be a lot of use +to us." + +"But what ye goin' to say to that feller if he comes up tomorry?" + +"He can go to hell!" growled Cronk. + +"And ye won't give the gal to him?" + +"Nope." + +In her fancy Fledra could see Lon draw the pipe from his lips to mutter +the words to Lem. + +"If ye take his money, Lon," gurgled Lem, "ye might have to fight with +him if he don't get Flea." + +The listening girl crept to the staircase and strained her ears. + +"I kin fight," replied Lon laconically. + +When, next day, the tug came to a standstill in front of the rocks near +the squatter's hut, Fledra went forward and touched Lon's arm. Her eyes +rested a moment upon him, before she could gather voice to say: + +"Will you let me stay with you, Pappy Lon, for a few days?" + +"I'll let ye stay till I tell ye to go," growled Lon, "and I don't want +no sniveling, nuther." + +"When are you going to tell me to go?" + +"When I like. Middy's gittin' the skiff ready to take ye out. Scoot +there, and light a fire in the hut! Here be the key to the padlock." + +Fledra's heart rose a little with hope. He had not said that she had to +go with Lem that day. After she had been rowed to the shore, she went +slowly to the shanty, with a prayer upon her lips. She had no thought +that Horace would try to save her, or that he would be able to keep her +from Lem and Lon. She prepared the breakfasts for Cronk and Crabbe and +for Middy with his two helpers. During the meal four pairs of eyes +looked at the slim, lithe form as it darted to and fro, doing the many +tasks in the littered hut. Lon Cronk was the only one not to lift his +head as she passed and repassed. He sat and thought moodily by the +fire. At last he did lift his head, and Fledra's solemn gray eyes, fixed +gravely upon him, made the squatter ill at ease. + +"What ye lookin' at?" he growled. "Keep your eyes to hum, and quit a +staring at me!" Fledra shrank back. "And I hate ye in them glad rags!" +Lon thundered out. "Jerk 'em off, and put on some of them togs of Granny +Cronk's! Yer a squatter, and ye'd better dress and talk like one! Do ye +hear?" + +"Yes, Pappy Lon," murmured Fledra, dropping her eyes. + +"I ain't said yet when ye was to go to Lem's hut; but, when I do, don't +ye kick up no row, and ye'd best do as Lem tells ye, or he'll take the +sass out of yer hide!" + +"I wish I could stay with you," ventured Fledra sorrowfully; but to this +Lon did not reply. After breakfast she was left alone in the hut, and +she could hear the loud talking of the tugmen and see Lem working on the +scow. + +Soon Middy Burnes' tug steamed away toward Ithaca, and Fledra knew that +she was alone with no creature between her and Lem but Lon Cronk. + +When Lon and Lem returned, the hut was tidy. Fledra had hoped that if +she made it so Lon might want her to stay. She could be of much use +about the shanty. Neither of the men spoke for awhile, and Fledra held +her peace, as she sat by the low hut-window and gazed thoughtfully out +upon the lake. In the distance she could see the east shore but dimly. +Several fishing boats ran up the lake toward town. A flock of spring +birds swept breezily over the water and sought the shade of the forest. +Suddenly Lem rose up, stretched his legs, yawned, and said: + +"I'm goin' out, Lon, and I'll be back in a little while. Ye'd best be a +thinkin' of what I said," he cautioned, "and keep yer eyes skinned for +travelers." + +"All right. Don't be gone long, Lem," responded Lon. Fledra was not too +abstracted to notice the uneasy tone in the squatter's voice. + +"Nope; I'm only goin' up the hill." + +Lem had decided to reconnoiter for Scraggy. He was filled with a fear +that she might be dead; for he had left her in the hut unconscious. He +climbed the hill, and, rounding her shanty, drew nearer, and peeped into +the window. A piece of bread lying on the table, and a few embers +burning on the grate bolstered up his hope that he had not committed +murder. He drew a sigh of relief. + + * * * * * + +Presently, after the departure of Lem, Lon stirred his feet, dragged +himself up in the chair, and turned upon the girl. Her heart beat wildly +with hope. If he would allow her to stay in the hut with him, she would +ask nothing better. His consent would come as a direct answer to prayer. +How hard she would work if Floyd and Horace were safe! Cronk coughed +behind his hand. + +"Flea, turn yer head 'bout here; I want to talk to ye," he said. + +The girl got up and came to his side. She was a pathetic little figure, +drooping in great fear, and hoping against hope that he would spare her. +She had dressed as he had ordered, and at her feet dragged a worn skirt +of Granny Cronk's. With trembling fingers she hitched the calico blouse +up about her shoulders. + +"Flea," said Lon again, "ye came home when I said ye was to, and ye +promised that ye'd do what I said, didn't ye?" + +"Yes." + +"And ye remember well that I promised ye to Lem afore ye went away. I +still be goin' to keep that promise to Lem." + +The bright blood that had swept her face paced back, leaving her ashen +pale. She did not speak, but swayed a little, and supported herself on +the top of his chair. Feeling her nearness, he shifted back, and the +small hand fell limply. + +"Before ye go to Lem," pursued Lon, "I want to tell ye somethin'." Still +Fledra did not speak. "Ye know that it'll save Flukey, if ye mind me, +and that it don't make no difference if ye don't like Lem." + +"Wouldn't it have made any difference if my mother hadn't loved you, +Pappy Lon?" + +The question shot out in appeal, and Lon's swarthy face shadowed darkly. + +"I never loved yer mother," he drawled, sucking hard upon his pipe. + +"Then you loved another woman," went on Flea bitterly, "because I heard +you tell Lem about her. Would you have liked a man to give her to--Lem?" + +As quick as lightning in the smoke came the ghost-gray phantom, +approaching from a dark corner of the shanty. Lon's eyes were strained +hard, and Fledra saw them widen and follow something in the air. She +drew back afraid. The man was staring wildly, and only he knew why he +groaned, as the wraith in the pipe-smoke broke around him and drifted +away. Fledra brought him back by repeating: + +"Would ye have liked to have had Lem take her, Pappy Lon?" + +"I'd a killed him," muttered Lon, as if to himself. "But ye, Flea," here +he rose and brought down his fist with a bang, "ye go where I send ye! +The woman's dead. If she wasn't, ye wouldn't have to go to Lem." + +To soften him, Fledra knelt down at his feet. + +"Pappy Lon," she pleaded, "you haven't got her, anyhow, and you haven't +got anybody but me. If you let me stay--" + +How he hated her! How he would have liked to bruise the sweet, upturned +face, marking the white cheeks with the impressions of his fists! But he +dared not. She would run away again--and to Lem he had given the +opportunity to drag her to fathomless depths. + +Fledra misread his thoughts, and said quickly: + +"I wouldn't care if you beat me every day, Pappy Lon--only let me stay. +I'll work for my board. And won't you tell me about the other woman--I +don't mean my mother." + +Then a diabolical thought flashed into the man's mind. He, too, could +make her suffer, even before she went to Lem. A smile twisted his lips, +and he said slowly: + +"Yer mother ain't dead, Flea." + +"Not dead!" + +"Nope, she ain't dead." + +"Then where is she?" + +"None of yer business!" + +Fledra clenched her hands and paled in terror. A mother somewhere living +in the world, a woman who, if she knew, would not let her be sacrificed, +who would save her from Lem, and from her father, too! + +"Lon, Lon!" she cried, springing forward in desperation. "Do you know +where she is? I want to know, too." + +He flung her away, a grunt of satisfaction coming from his throat. + +"And I ain't yer daddy, nuther." + +"Then you're not Flukey's father, either?" she whispered. + +"Nope; yer pappy and mammy both be livin' and waitin' fer ye. They've +been lookin' fer ye fer years--and yet they'll never git ye. Do ye +hear, Flea? I hate 'em both so that I could kill ye--I could tear yer +throat open with these!" The squatter put his strong, crooked fingers in +the girl's face. + +A sudden resolution pumped the blood to the girl's cheeks. + +"I'm not going to stay here!" was all she said. + +Lon lifted his fist and stood up. + +"Where ye goin'?" + +"Back to Tarrytown." + +She was standing close to him, her blazing eyes daring him to strike +her. + +"What about Flukey?" + +"You couldn't have him, either, if--if he isn't yours." + +Lon walked to the door and opened it. + +"Scoot if ye want to--I don't care. But ye'll remember that I'll kill +that sick kid, Fluke, and Lem'll put an end to the Tarrytown duffer what +loves ye. I hate him, too!" + +Fledra dropped to the floor as if he had struck her. + +For some moments her senses were gone, and she opened her eyes only when +Lon, vaguely alarmed, threw water in her face. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE + + +Cronk entered the scow sullenly and sat down. Lem was sitting at the +table, bending over a tin basin in which he was washing his bitten +fingers. The steel hook and its leather strappings lay on the table. + +"I telled Flea," said the squatter after a silence. + +"Did ye tell her she was comin' to my boat tonight?" asked Lem eagerly. + +"Nope; but I telled her that she weren't my gal." + +"Ye cussed fool!" cried Crabbe, jumping to his feet. "Ye won't keep her +now, I bet that!" + +Cronk smiled covertly. + +"Aw, don't ye believe it! She be as safe stuck in that hut as if I'd +nailed her leg to the floor. Ye don't know Flea, ye don't, Lem. She +didn't come back with us 'cause she were my brat, but 'cause we was +goin' to kill Flukey and Shellington. God! how she w'iggled when I +opened the door and telled her to scoot back to Tarrytown if she wanted +to! But I didn't forgit to tell her what we'd do to them two others down +there, if she'd go. She floundered down and up like a live sucker in a +hot skillet. What a plagued fool she is!" + +Lon sat back in his chair and laughed loudly. + +"Ye'll play with her till ye make her desprite," snarled Lem, "and when +she be gone ye can holler the lungs out of ye, and she won't come back. +If ye'd left her to me, I'd a drubbed her till she wouldn't think of +Tarrytown. I says as how she comes to this scow tonight. Ye can't dicker +with me like ye can with that kid, Lon!" + +Cronk narrowed his eyelids to slits and contemplated the scowman. + +"I want to have a little fun with her afore ye git her," he said. "I +love to see her damn face go white and red, and her teeth shut tight +like a rat-trap. She won't do none of them things when you git done with +her, Lem." + +Crabbe rubbed the length of his short arm with a coarse towel. + +"Yep, I can make her forgit that she's got blood what'll come in her +face," chuckled he. "'Tain't no fun ownin' women, if ye can't make 'em +holler once in awhile. But ye didn't say as how she were a comin' here +tonight." + +"Nope, not tonight," answered Lon; "'cause when I showed her that it +didn't make no difference 'bout her stayin' whether she were mine or +not, she just tumbled down like a hit ox. My! but it were a fine sight!" + +Lem lifted the steel hook in deep reflection and caught the clasps +together. + +"I'm a wonderin', Lon," he said presently, "if I'm to ever git her." + +"Yep, tomorry," assured Lon. + +"Honest Injun?" demanded Lem. + +"Honest Injun," replied Lon. "If ye takes her tonight, she'll only cut +up like the devil. That's the worst of them damn women, they be too +techy when they come of stock like her." + +"I like 'em when they're techy--it ain't so easy to make 'em do what a +man wants 'em to as 'tis t'other kind--say like Scraggy. I love a gal +what'll spit in yer face. God! what a lickin' Flea'll git, if she tries +any of them fine notions of her'n on me! For every kiss Shellington +gived her, I'll draw blood outen her hide!" Lem paused in his work, and +then added in a stammering undertone, "But I love the huzzy!" + +The other bent far forward to catch the scowman's words, delighting in +the mental picture of Fledra's lithe body writhing under the lash. The +proud spirit of the girl would break under the physical pain! + + * * * * * + +Fledra was still lying on the bed when Lon returned to the hut. + +"Git up and git supper!" Cronk growled in her ear. + +Mechanically she rose, sliced a few cold potatoes into the skillet, and +arranged the table for one person. + +"Put down two plates!" roared the squatter. + +"I can't eat, Lon," Flea said in a whisper. + +He noticed that she had dropped the paternal prefix. + +"Put down another plate, I say!" he shouted. "Ye be goin' to Lem's +tomorry, and ye'll go tonight if ye put on any airs with me! See?" + +Fledra placed a plate for herself, and sat down opposite Lon. Choking, +she crushed the food into her mouth and swallowed it with effort. For +even one night's respite she would suffer anything! + + * * * * * + +After the dishes were cleared away Fledra knelt by the open window, and +peered out upon the water. She turned tear-dimmed eyes toward the +college hill, and allowed her mind to travel slowly over the road she +and Floyd had taken in September. Rapidly her thoughts came to the +Shellington home, and she imagined she saw her brother and Horace +listening to Ann as she read under the light of the red chandelier. How +happy they all looked, how peaceful they were--and by her gift! She +breathed a sigh as the shadows crept long over the darkening lake. + +She glanced at the clock, and counted from its dial the hours until +morning. She wished that the sun would never rise; that some unexpected +thing would snatch her from the hut before the night-shades disappeared +into the dawn. Cronk moved, and the girl turned with a startled face. +How timid she had grown of late! She remembered distinctly that at one +time she had loved the chirp of the cricket, the mournful croak of the +marsh frogs; but tonight they maddened her, filled her with an ominous +fear such as she had never before felt. When Lon saved her from +drowning, and had scathed Lem for his actions, she had hoped--oh, how +she had hoped!--that he would let her fill Granny Cronk's place. She +glanced at the squatter again. + +Lon was staring out upon the lake with eyes somber and restless, eyes +darkening under thoughts that threshed through his brains like a +whirlwind. He was face to face with a long-looked-for revenge. Through +the pain of Flea he could still see that wraith woman who had haunted +him all the past-shadowed years. He believed with all his soul that then +Midge would sink into his arms, silent in her spirit of thankfulness, +and would always stay with him until he, too, should be called to join +her; for Lon had never once doubted that in some future time he would be +with his woman. If anyone had asked him during the absence of Flea and +Flukey which one of them he would rather have had back in the hut, he +would undoubtedly have chosen the girl; for well he knew that she was +capable of suffering more than a boy. Still, he moved uneasily when he +thought of the soft bed and the kindly hands that were ministering to +the son of his enemy. + +Suddenly the squatter dragged his pipe from his lips and said: + +"Look about here, Flea!" + +The girl turned her head. + +"What, Pappy Lon?" she questioned. + +"Keep yer mouth shet!" commanded Lon. "I'll do the talkin' fer this +shanty." + +Then, seeing her cowering spirit racked by fear, he grinned broadly. +Fledra sank back. + +"I've always said as how I were a goin' to make money out of ye, and +I've found a chance where, if Lem ain't a fool, he'll jine in, too. Will +I tell ye?" Lon's question brought the dark head closer to him. "Ye +needn't speak if ye don't want to," sneered he; "but I'll tell ye jest +the same! Do ye know who's goin' to own ye afore long?" Fledra's +widening eyes questioned him, while her lips trembled. "I can see that +ye wants to find out. Does ye know a young fellow by the name of +Brimbecomb?" Observing that she did not make an effort to speak, Lon +proceeded with a perceptible drawl. "Well, if the cat's got yer tongue, +I'll wag mine a bit in yer stead. Brimbecomb's offered to buy ye, and, +if Lem says that it'll be all right, then I says yep, too." + +Fledra found her voice uttering unintelligible words. She was slowly +advancing on her knees toward the squatter, her face working into +strong, mature lines. + +"Jest keep back there," ordered Lon, "and don't put on no guff with me! +Ye can do as ye please 'bout goin' away. I won't put out my hand to keep +ye; only, remember, if ye go, what comes to the folks in Tarrytown! Now, +then, did ye hear what I said about Brimbecomb?" Fledra nodded, her +eyelids quivering under his stare. "Yer pretty enough to take the fancy +of any man, Flea, and ye've took two, and it's up to 'em both to fight +over ye. The man what pays most gits ye, that's all." + +The girl lifted one hand dazedly. + +"I'd rather go with Lem," she muttered brokenly. + +"It don't make no matter to me what you'd ruther have. Ye go where yer +sent, and that's all." + +Only Fledra's sobs broke the silence of the next five minutes. She dared +not ask Lon Cronk any questions. + +Presently, without warning, the man turned upon her. + +"He's a comin' here tonight, mebbe." + +"Ye mean--oh, Pappy Lon! Let me go to Lem! I'll go, and I won't say no +word!... I'll go now!" She rose, her knees trembling. + +"Sit down!" Lon commanded. + +Used to obeying even his look, Fledra dropped back to the floor. + +"It ain't given to ye to go to Lem jest 'cause ye want to," he said. "As +I says, that young feller is comin' here tonight to talk with me and +Lem. I already told him, that he could take ye; but Lem hain't yet give +his word." + +Fledra glanced out of the window at the scow. Lem was there, arranging +the boat for her reception in his crude, homely way. She was sure the +scowman would not give her up. The thought brought Ann more vividly into +her mind. If Everett came for her, and Lem held to his desire, Miss +Shellington's happiness would be assured. The handsome young lawyer +would return to Tarrytown, back to the woman who loved him. + +Fledra rose with determination in her face. Suddenly Lem had loomed +before her as a friend. She moved uneasily about the shanty, Lon making +no move to stay her. For awhile she worked aimlessly, with furtive +glances at Cronk. + +"Set down, Flea," ordered Lon presently. "Ye give me the twitches. If ye +can't set still, crawl to bed till," he glanced her over, as she paused +to catch his words,--"till one of yer young men'll come to git ye." + +It was the chance Fledra had been longing for. She backed from him +through the opening of Granny Cronk's room and closed the door. For one +minute she stood panting. Then she walked to the window, threw back the +small sash, and slipped through. Once in the open air, she shot toward +the scow, and in another moment had scurried up the gangplank and into +the living-room. + +When he saw her, Lem's lips fell away from his pipe, and he rose slowly +and awkwardly; but no shade of surrender softened the hard lines +settled about the mouth of the panting girl. + +"Lem," she gasped, "has Pappy Lon said anything to ye about Mr. +Brimbecomb?" + +"Yep." + +"Are ye goin' to let me go with him?" + +"Nope." + +"Will ye swear, Lem, that when he comes to the hut ye'll say that he +can't have me?" + +Lem's jaw dropped, and he uttered a throat sound, guttural and rough. + +"Do ye mean, Flea, that ye'd rather come to the scow than go with the +young, good-lookin' cuss?" + +"Yes, that's what I mean; and Pappy Lon says he's comin'." + +Lem made a spring toward her. + +"Don't touch me now!" she cried, shuddering. "Don't--yet! I'm comin' +back by and by." + +Before he could place his hands upon her, Fledra had gone down the +plank. From the small boat-window Lem could discern the little figure +flitting among the hut bushes; in another moment she had crawled through +the open window into Lon's hut. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX + + +When Everett arrived in Ithaca he made arrangements with the conductor +of the local train running to Geneva to have it slow down at Sherwoods +Lane. + +A sudden jerk of the engine as it halted at the path that led to Lon's +hut brought Brimbecomb to his feet, and he hurried from the car with +muttered thanks and a substantial consideration to the conductor. While +the train rumbled away in the distance, he stood in the shadow of a +large pine tree by the track and looked about to get his bearings. +Suddenly he heard not far from him the faint, weird cry of an owl. +Instantly he was on the alert; for there was something familiar in the +melancholy sound. It took him back to a night in Tarrytown, when he had +cast a woman into the cemetery, and he remembered that she had said she +lived in Ithaca. Superstition sent him deeper into the shadow for a +moment; but he recovered himself and, shaking his shoulders, went his +way toward the lake with a muttered oath. + +So dense was the woodland bordering the path, and so dark was the shadow +of the bushes in the twilight, that he had almost to feel his way down +the dark lane. He had not proceeded more than fifty yards when he saw a +light gleaming through the underbrush from the opposite side of the +gulch that ran parallel with the narrow road. He came to a path that +branched in the direction of the light, and picked his way along it. +Soon he crossed a primitive bridge and, climbing a little incline, +paused before a dilapidated shanty. He knocked peremptorily on the door; +but only a droning voice humming a monotonous tune made answer. Again +he knocked, this time harder. The singing ceased, and after a shuffling +of feet the door opened. + +Standing before him, her hair bedraggled as it had been the first time +he saw her, was the woman who had claimed to be his mother, the woman he +had thrown into Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. Brimbecomb, in his astonishment, +almost fell back into the gulch. But he quickly gathered his scattered +wits and, forcing a face of effrontery, doffed his hat. + +"Can you tell me," his agitation did not allow him to speak +calmly,--"can you tell me, please, where Lon Cronk lives?" + +Although his question was low and broken, Scraggy caught each word. + +"Down to the edge of the lake, Mister," she replied. "It's a goin' to be +a dark night to be out in, ain't it?" + +In his relief, Brimbecomb drew a long breath. She had not recognized +him! The dim light of the candle showed him that the same dazed +expression still remained in her faded eyes. The smirk on her face, the +crouch of her emaciated figure, about which the rags swirled in the +wind, the dismal hut, and the loneliness of her surroundings, made such +a picture of woe that Everett shuddered and hastened to get the +information, that he might hurry away from the awful place. + +"Is there a scow down there that belongs to--" + +"That there scow belongs to Lem Crabbe," broke in Scraggy. "Yep, it +comed in this mornin'. Lem be a good man, a fine man, the bestest man ye +ever see." + +Brimbecomb took some money from his pocket and, placing it in her +fingers, hurried away. + + * * * * * + +Fledra heard Everett when he came to Lon's shanty door and knocked. She +heard the squatter call him by name. She knew now that the only hope +for Ann's love for Brimbecomb was that Lem would keep his word and +insist upon Lon's holding faith with him. + +Cronk ordered her roughly to come to him. When she appeared, the two men +looked at her keenly. As she evinced no surprise at his presence, the +lawyer knew that she had been told of his coming. He made an attempt to +take her hand; but, as once before, Fledra flung her arms behind her. + +"I 'low as she don't like ye, young feller," said Lon, with a laugh. + +"Does it matter to you, Cronk?" retorted Brimbecomb. + +"Not a damned bit!" + +"Then go and make your arrangements with your one-armed friend and leave +your daughter here with me." + +"Ye be in too big a hurry, my fine buck! Lem ain't as willin' as I be; +but I'll jest go down to the scow and speak with him." + +"I want to go with you, Pappy Lon," cried Fledra. + +"Ye stay right here, gal," commanded Cronk. Full in her face he slammed +the door and left her alone with Brimbecomb. + +Everett stood looking at her for fully a minute, and as steadily she +eyed him back. + +"I have come for you," he said quietly. "I could not leave you with +these persons." + +Fledra curled her lip scornfully. + +"I lived with them a long time before I saw any of you folks," she said +bitterly. + +The girl did not reason now. She knew that she must send him back, that +this was her only way to repay the woman who had saved her brother. So +she went up to Brimbecomb appealingly, her eager eyes gleaming into +his. + +"I want you to go back to Tarrytown," she said, "and go to +Shellingtons', and see Sister Ann. She's dying to have you back. And you +belong to her, because you promised her, and she promised you. Will you +go back?" + +"When I wish to, I will; but not yet," muttered Everett. He had been +taken aback at her words, and at that moment could think of no way to +compromise with her. She was so near that he threw out his hands and +caught her. Forcibly he drew her face close to his, his lips whitening +under the spell of her nearness. + +"Never, never will I let you go away from me again!" he was saying +passionately, when Cronk opened the door and stepped in. + +The squatter gave no evidence that he had seen Everett's action. He left +the door open, through which the breeze flung the dust and the dead +leaves. + +"Lem'll see ye in the scow," he said. "I ain't got nothin' to say 'bout +this--only as how Flea goes to one or the other of ye." + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN + + +Not more than half an hour after Everett had reached Sherwoods Lane, +Governor Vandecar's train came to a halt at the same place, and the +party, consisting of the governor, Ann Shellington, and Katherine +Vandecar, made ready to step out into the night. + +"Please draw up to the switch," the governor instructed the conductor, +"and I'll hail you as soon as we return. Keep an ear out for my call." + +"Yes, Sir," replied the conductor; "but you'd better take this +lantern--it's sure dark down by that lake, Sir. And you can signal me +with the light." + +Ann and Katherine clasped hands, and, aided by the light which Vandecar +held high, slowly followed him. So stern did the tall man seem in the +deep gloom that neither girl spoke to him as they stumbled down the +hill. They halted with thumping hearts in sight of the dark lake. All +three noticed a small light twinkling through the Cronk window, and, +without knocking, Governor Vandecar flung wide the door of Lon's hut and +stepped in. + +The squatter sat on the floor, whittling a stick; Fledra crouched by the +window. As the door opened, she raised her eyes wonderingly; but when +she saw a tall stranger she dropped them again--someone had lost his way +and needed Pappy Lon. Cronk looked up and, recognizing Vandecar, +suddenly slid like a serpent around the hut wall until he was in +touching distance of the girl. + +"Ye'd better not come any closer, Mister," he said darkly. "I has this, +ye see--and Flea's meat's as soft as a chicken's!" He raised his knife +menacingly; but dropped it slowly at sight of Ann and Katherine. + +"Sister Ann!" breathed Fledra. + +Ann's fingers grasped Vandecar's arm spasmodically; but, without +glancing back at her, he shook them off. His brow had gathered deep +lines at Lon's words, and now his unswerving gray eyes bent low to the +squatter. Under the steady gaze Cronk looked down and began to whittle. + +In after days Ann could always conjure up the picture before her. Fledra +looked so infinitely young and melancholy, as her eyes fixed themselves +in wide terror upon Cronk. Out of the ragged blouse rose the proud, dark +head, and the lovely face was almost overshadowed by two tightly +clenched fists. Instead of falling into her arms, as Ann had imagined +she would, the girl only sank lower to the floor, her face ghastly in a +new horror. Miss Shellington's patience gave way as she stared at +Vandecar--his delay was imperiling Fledra's life; for, if ever a wicked +face expressed hate and murder, the squatter's did now. She turned +appealing eyes to Katherine, and took a step forward; but the latter +held her and whispered: + +"Wait, wait a moment, Ann! Wait until Uncle has spoken!" + +The whisper broke the silence, and Fledra turned her eyes from Lon. She +wondered dazedly who the stranger was, and why he had come with Ann. She +thought of Horace, and a pain shot through her heart. She was aware that +his sister had come for her; but no thought entered her mind to give up +the yoke that would soon be too heavy to bear. Then Governor Vandecar +began to speak, and Fledra looked at him. + +"I have come to take back my own, Lon Cronk," said he, "that of which +you robbed me many years ago." + +"I ain't nothin' that belongs to ye, and ye'd better go back where ye +comed from, Mister--and don't--come no nearer!" + +As the squatter spoke, his lips spread wide over his teeth, and he began +picking up and laying down the bits of white wood. He did it +deliberately, and no one present imagined how the sight of Vandecar tore +at his heartstrings. Cronk could tolerate no robbing him of his revenge, +no taking away his chance of soothing the haunting spirit of his dead +woman. + +Again Ann touched the governor's arm. + +"Don't, Dear!" he said, pushing her back a little. "Lon Cronk--I want to +tell you--a story." + +Cronk made no response; only stooped over and gathered a few slender +whittlings, and stacked them up among the others. There was an intense, +biting silence, until the governor spoke again. + +"Nineteen years ago, when I lived in Syracuse, there came to me an +opportunity to convict a man of theft. Then I was young and happy; I +knew nothing of deep misery, or of--deep love." The hesitation on his +last words brought a shake from the squatter's shoulders. "This man, as +I have said, was a thief, admitted his crime to me; but, at the time of +his conviction, he pleaded with me that he might go home for a little +while to see his wife, who was ill. But of course I had no authority to +do that." + +A dark shade flashed over Cronk's face, followed by one of awful +suffering. + +"Yep, ye had," he repeated parrot-like; "ye might have let him go." + +"But I couldn't," proceeded the governor, "and the man was taken away to +prison without one glance at the woman who was praying to see him. For +she loved him more--than he did her." + +"That's a lie!" burst from Cronk's dry puckered lips. + +"I repeat, she loved him well," insisted Vandecar; "for every breath she +took was one of love for him." + +In the hush that followed his broken sentence, Lon moved one big foot +outward, then drew it back. + +"Afterward--I mean a few hours after the man was taken away--I began to +think of him and his agony--over the woman, and I went out to find her. +She was in a little hut down by the canal,--an ill-furnished, one-room +shanty,--but the woman was so sweet, so little, yet so ill, that I +thought only of her." + +A dripping sweat broke from every pore in Lon's body, and drops of water +rolled down his dark face. He groped about for another stick of wood, as +if blind. + +"She was too young, too small, Lon Cronk, for the cross she had to +bear." + +Lon threw up his head. + +"Jesus! what a blisterin' memory!" he said. + +His throat almost smothered the words. Ann began to sob; but Katherine +stood like a stone image, staring at the squatter. + +The governor's low voice went on again: + +"She was sicker than any woman I'd ever seen before, and when I was +there her little baby was born. I held her hands until she died. I +remember every message she sent you, Cronk. She told me to tell you how +much she loved you, and how the thought of your goodness to her and your +love would go down with her to the grave. If I could have saved her for +you, I should have done so; but she had to go. Then I wrote and asked +you if I should care for her body." + +An evil look overspread the squatter's face. The misty tears cleared, +and he began to scrape again at the wood. He flashed a murderous look +upward. + +"Ye could have left her dead in the hut, as long as yer killed her!" +said he. + +Not heeding the interruption, Vandecar went on: + +"But you sent me no word, and, because I was sorry, and because--" + +The knife slipped from Lon's stiffened fingers, and a long groan fell +from his lips. + +"I didn't get no word from ye!" he burst out. "I didn't know nothin' +till they told me she were dead." The man's head dropped down on his +chest. + +Relentlessly Vandecar spoke again: + +"Because I could not give you to her when she wanted you, and because +she had suffered so, I took her body and placed it in our family plot. I +went to the prison to tell you this, so that you could go to her grave +whenever you wished; but you had escaped the night before I arrived +there, and I never associated you with my great loss." + +The revenge Cronk had planned upon this man suddenly lost its savor +before the vividly drawn picture. He did not remember that Vandecar had +come for his girl; he had in mind only the wee, sweet squatter woman so +long dead. + +"Didn't the warden tell ye that I hit him, Mister," he groaned, "and +that I smashed the keeper when they telled me about her, and--and that +the strait-jacket busted my collarbone when I was tryin' to get out to +her?" + +Vandecar shuddered and shook his head; but before he could speak Cronk +wailed dazedly: + +"Ye might have come and telled me yerself, ye might a knowed how I +wanted ye to!" + +"I told you that I did come and you were gone," Vandecar answered +emphatically. + +"Ye didn't think how I loved her, how I'd a dreamed of huggin' my own +little brat!" + +Vandecar interrupted again: + +"I took the baby with me, Lon Cronk." At the word "baby," Lon dragged +his heavy hand backward across his eyes. "The baby," continued the +governor, "was no bigger than this,--a wee bit of a girl, such as all +big men love to father." + +The squatter stood rigidly up against the wall, until his head almost +reached the ceiling. His fierce eyes centered themselves upon Vandecar. + +"If I'd a knowed, Mister," he mumbled, "that ye'd took my little Midge's +hand in yer'n, that ye soothed her when she was a howlin' fer me, I +wouldn't have cribbed yer kids--I'll be damned if I would 'ave! But I +hated ye--Christ! how I hated ye! I could only think how ye wouldn't +help me." He shuddered, wiped his wet lips, and went on, "After that I +went plumb to hell. There weren't no living with me in prison, lessen I +were strapped in the jacket till my meat were scorched. It seemed as how +it made my hurt less for her to have my own skin blistered. Then, when I +got out of prison, I never once took my eyes offen ye, and when yer +woman gived ye Flea and Flukey--" + +A cry from Fledra brought all eyes upon her save Lon's. + +"When yer woman gived ye the two kids," he went on, "I let 'em stay long +enough for ye to love 'em; then I stole 'em away. But, if I'd a knowed +that ye tooked mine--" He moved forward restlessly and almost whispered, +"Mister, will ye tell me how the little 'un looked? And were it warm and +snuggly? Did ye let it lay ag'in' ye--and sleep?" The miserable, +questioning voice rose in demand, but lowered again. "Did ye let it grab +hold of yer fingers--oh, that were what I wanted more'n anythin' else! +And that's why I stealed yours; so ye'd know what sufferin' was. If ye'd +only telled me, Mister--if ye'd only telled me!" + +Vandecar groaned--groaned for them all, no more for himself and for his +gentle wife than for the great hulk of a man wrestling in agony. Tears +rose slowly to his lids; but he dashed them away. + +"Cronk," he cried, "Cronk, for God's sake, don't--don't! I've borne an +awful burden all these years, and every time I've thought of her I've +thought of you and wondered where you were." + +"I were with my little woman in spirit," the squatter interrupted, "when +I weren't tryin' to get even with you. Mister, will ye swear by God that +ye telled me the truth about the baby?" + +"I swear by God!" repeated Vandecar solemnly. + +"And I believe ye. I could a been good, if I'd a had the little kid +awhile. It were a bit of her, a little, livin' bit. I could a been, but +I wasn't, a good man. I loved to lash Flukey and Flea. I loved to make +the marks stand out on their legs and backs. And I tried to l'arn Flukey +to be a thief, and Flea were a goin' to Lem tomorry. It were the only +way I lived--the only way!" Cronk trailed on as if to himself. "The +woman camed and camed and haunted me, till my mind were almost gone, and +I allers seed the little kid's dead face ag'in' her, and allers she +seemed to tell me to haggle the life outen yer kids; and haggle I did, +till they runned away, and then I went after 'em, and Flea--" + +Vandecar stopped the speaker with a wave of the hand. + +"Then you brought her back here, and I discovered that she was mine, and +I came for her. Lon Cronk, you give me back my girl, and I'll," he +whitened to the very lips, and repeated,--"and I'll give you back +yours!" + +With a sweep of the arm Vandecar pushed Katherine forward. The very air +grew dense with anxiety. Ann clutched Katherine by the arm as if to stay +her movement, as if to keep her from the dazed squatter. His confession +of the kidnapping and his uncouth appearance forced Miss Shellington to +try and protect her gentle friend from his contact. But Katherine +loosened Ann's fingers in stony silence. Only a choking sound from +Fledra broke the quietude. She was staring into Lon's face, and he was +flashing from her to Katherine glances that changed and rechanged like +dark clouds passing over the heaven's blue. He saw Katherine, so like +his dead wife, bow her fair head before him. He noted her trembling +fingers pressed into pink palms, her slender body grow tense again and +again, relaxing only with spontaneous sobs. That he could touch the +fragile young creature, that he might listen to the call of his heart +and take her as his own, had not yet been fully forced upon him. The +meaning of Governor Vandecar's words seemed to leave his mind at +intervals; then his expression showed that he realized the truth of +them. He swayed forward; but crouched back once more against the wall. +Fledra rose silently to her feet, her ready intelligence grasping the +great fact that she was free, that the magnificent stranger had come for +her, that he claimed her as his. She was free from Lem, from Lon, free +to go back to Flukey. Lem's menacing shadow had lifted slowly from her +life, cast away by her own blood. For an instant there rose rampant in +her breast the desire to turn and fly, before another chance should be +given Lon to exert his authority over her. Then something snapped in her +head, and, unconscious, she sank noiselessly to the floor. No one +noticed her. She was like a small prey over which two great forces +ruthlessly fought and tore at human flesh and human hearts. + +Vandecar gently touched Katherine's arm; but her feet were powerless to +move. + +"Katherine," the governor groaned, "don't you remember that you cried +over him and your mother, and that--" + +"Yes, yes!" Katherine breathed. She was trying to still the beating of +her heart, trying to thrust aside a great, revolting fear; yet she knew +intuitively that the squatter was her father, and remembered how the +recounting of her mother's death had touched her. In one flashing +thought, she recalled how she had longed for a mother, and how she had +turned away when other girls were being caressed and loved. But never +had it entered her mind to imagine that her parents were like this. The +picture of the hut in which the wee woman had died rose within her--the +death agony had been so plainly described. The tall, shrinking, sobbing +man against the wall was her father! Even that afternoon, when Governor +Vandecar had told her of her birth and her mother's death, and of her +father in the lake hut, she had not imagined him like this man. Yet +something pleaded for him, some subtle, gentle spirit hovering near +seemed to drag her forward. She shuddered, slipped from Vandecar's arms, +and crouched down before the squatter. She turned a livid, twitching +face up to his, her eyes beseeching his with infinite compassion. All +that was beautiful in the gentle, soulful girl broke over Ann like a +surging sea. This girl, who had been brought up in a beautiful home, +always attended with loving kindness, was casting her lot with a man so +low and vile that another person would have turned away in disgust. Miss +Shellington's mind recalled her girlhood days, in which Katherine had +been an intimate part. She could not bear it. She took an impulsive +forward step; but Vandecar gripped her. + +"Stay," came sternly from his lips, "stay! But--but God pity her!" + +The next seconds were laden with biting agony such as neither the +governor nor Ann had ever experienced. Katherine pleaded silently with +the man above her for paternal recognition. Suddenly he drew away from +the kneeling girl and shrank into the corner, pressing the wall with his +great weight until the rotting boards of the shanty creaked behind him. +Only now and then was his mind equal to the task of owning her. +Gathering strength to speak, Katherine sobbed: + +"Father, Father, I never knew of you until today--I didn't know, I +didn't know!" + +In her agony she did not notice the fierce eyes melt with tenderness; +but Vandecar saw it with a tumultuous heart. He was waiting to claim the +little figure on the floor, that he might take her back to her mother. +In that way he would retrieve his own past errors and in a measure +redeem the misspent life of the thief. He saw Cronk smooth his brow with +a shaking hand, as if to wipe away from his befuddled brain the cobwebs +of indecision and time-gathered shadows. His lips, drawn awry with +intensity, opened only to drone: + +"Pretty little Midge, I thought as how ye were dead! And ye've come back +to yer man, a lovin' him as much as ever! God--God!" He raised streaming +eyes upward, and then finished, "God! And there be a God, no matter how +I said there wasn't! He didn't let ye die when I were pinched!" With a +mighty strength he swept the girl from the floor and turned mad eyes +upon Vandecar. + +"She ain't dead, Mister--I thought she were! Take back yer brat, and +keep yer boy--and God forgive me!" + +So tender was his last petition, that it seemed but a breath whispered +into the infinite listening ear of the God above. Katherine, like +Fledra, had lapsed into unconsciousness. + +"She's fainted!" cried Ann. "Oh, Katherine, poor, pretty little +Katherine!" + +"Help her, Ann!" urged Vandecar. "Do something for her!" + +He did not wait to see Ann comply; but turned to Fledra, who, still +wrapped in unconsciousness, lay crouched on the floor, her dark curls +massed in confusion. Granny Cronk's blouse had fallen away, leaving the +rounded shoulders bare and gleaming in the faint yellow light. + +The father gathered the daughter into his arms with passionate +tenderness. At first he did not try to revive her; but sat down and held +her close, as if he would never let her go. Tears, the product of weary +ages of waiting, fell on her white, upturned face, and again he murmured +thanksgivings into her unheeding ear. For many moments only the words of +Ann could be heard, as she tried to reason with Cronk to release +Katherine for a moment. + +"Lay her down, won't you? She's ill. Please, let me put water on her +face!" + +"Nope," replied Lon; "she won't git away from me ag'in. She's Midge, my +little Midge, my little woman, and she's mine!" + +"Yes, yes," answered Ann, "I know she's yours; but do you want her to +die?" + +With his great hands still locked about Katherine, Cronk looked down on +her lovely face, crushed against his breast. She was a counterpart of +the woman who had lived in another hut with him, and his dazed mind had +lost the intervening years. Midge had come out of the prison shadows, +and the big squatter had turned back two decades to meet her. + +"She's only asleep," he said simply; "she allers slep' on my breast, +Missus. She'd never let me put her off'n my arm a minute. And I didn't +want to, nuther. She were allers afeared of ghosts--allers, allers! And +I kep' her close like this. She ain't dead, Ma'm." + +His voice was free from anger and passion. By dint of persuasion, at +length Ann forced him to release Katherine and to aid her while she +bathed the girl's white face with water. + +Katherine was still limp and bewildered when, ten minutes later, Fledra +opened her eyes and looked up into her father's face. The past hour had +not returned to her memory, and she drew quickly away. Of late she had +become timid, always on the defensive; and when Ann spoke to her she +held out her arms. + +"I'm afraid!" she whimpered. "I want to go to Sister Ann." + +But Vandecar held her fast as Miss Shellington knelt on the hut floor at +his side. + +"Fledra, listen to me! This is your own father, Dear. Don't draw away +from him. He came with me for you. We're going to take you back to your +mother and little Floyd." + +It seemed an eternity to the waiting man before Fledra received him. +There were many things she had to reason away. It was necessary first to +dispense entirely with Lon Cronk, to feel absolutely free from Lem. +Until then, how could she feel secure? The eyes bent upon hers affected +her strangely. They were spotted like Flukey's, and had the same trick +of not moving when they received another's glance. Then Ann's +exclamation seemed to awaken her lethargic soul, and she seized upon the +word "mother." + +"Mother, Mother!" she stumbled, "oh, I want her, Sister Ann! I want her! +Will you take me to her? She's sweet and--and mine!" She made the last +statement in a low voice directly to Vandecar. + +"Yes, and I'm your father, Fledra," he whispered. He longed for her to +be glad in him--longed now as never before. + +Fledra's eyes sought Cronk's. He had forgotten her; Katherine alone held +his attention. Timidly she raised her arms and drew down her father's +face to hers. + +"I'm glad, I'm awful glad that you're mine--and you're Floyd's, too. Oh, +I'm so glad! And you say--my mother--" + +"Yes, Dear," Vandecar murmured, deeply moved; "a beautiful mother, who +is waiting and longing for her girl. Dear God, how thankful I am to be +able to restore you to her!" + +The governor held her close, while he told her of her babyhood and the +story of the kidnapping, refraining from mentioning Cronk's name. It +took sometime to impress upon her that all need of apprehension was +past, that her future cast with her own dear ones was safe, and that Lem +and Lon were but as shadows of other days. + +Katherine, weeping with despair, was sitting close to Lon. She knew +without being told that the father she had just found had lost from his +memory all of the bitterness of the years gone by. He had gone back to +his Midge, and now centered upon his newly found child the identity of +this dead woman. It was better so, even Katherine admitted; for he was +meek and tender, wholly unlike the sullen, ugly man they had seen +earlier in the evening. The squatter's condition made it impossible to +allow Katherine to be with him, and they dared not leave him alone in +the hut. Later, when they were making plans for Cronk's future, Vandecar +said: + +"We can't leave him here, Ann dear. Can't we take him with us, +Katherine?" + +"It's the only thing I can see to do," replied Ann, with catching +breath. + +"You'll come with him and me, Katherine, and we'll take him to the car, +while he is subdued. You, Ann, dress that child, and wait here for +Horace. I'll come back directly. I must place Cronk with the conductor, +for fear--" + +"Don't be long," begged Ann. "I'm so afraid!" + +"No, only long enough to signal the train and get them aboard. You must +be brave, dear girl, and we must all remember what he has suffered. His +heart is as big as the world, and I can't forget that, indirectly, I +brought this upon him." He turned his glance upon the squatter, and +Katherine's eyes followed his. The lines about Lon's mouth had softened +with tenderness, his eyes were filled with adoration. Katherine flashed +him back a sad smile. + +"The little Midge!" murmured Lon. "I'll never steal ag'in--never! And +I'll jest fish and work fer my little woman--my pretty woman!" + +Vandecar rose and went to the squatter. + +"Lon," he said, placing a hand upon the rough jacket, "will you bring +your little--" He was about to say daughter, but changed the word to +"Midge," and continued, "Will you bring Midge to my car and come to +Tarrytown with us?" + +Cronk stared vacantly. + +"Nope," he drawled; "I'll stay here in the hut with Midge. It's dark, +and she's afraid of ghosts. I'll never steal ag'in, Mister, so I can't +get pinched." + +Vandecar still insisted: + +"But won't you let your little girl come back and get her clothes? And +you, too, can come to our home, for--for a visit." His face crimsoned as +he prevaricated. + +But Lon still shook his head. + +"A squatter woman's place be in her home with her man," he said. + +Vandecar turned helplessly upon Katherine. + +"You persuade him," he entreated in an undertone. + +Katherine whispered her desire in her father's ear. + +"We'll go only for a few days," she promised. + +"And ye'll come back here?" he demanded. + +The girl glanced toward Governor Vandecar, and caught the slight +inclination of his head. + +"Yes," she promised; "yes, we'll come back, if you are quite well." + +Cronk stooped down and pressed his lips to hers. + +"I'd a gone with ye, Midge, 'cause I couldn't say no to nothin' ye asked +me." But he halted, as they tried to lead him through the door. + +"I don't like the dark," he muttered, drawing back. + +Fledra eyed him in consternation. Never before had she known him to +express fear of anything, much less of the elements which seemed but a +part of his own stormy nature. Never had she seen the great head bowed +or the shoulders stooped in timidity. Katherine had Cronk's hand in +hers, and she gently drew him forward. + +"Come, come!" she breathed softly. + +"I'm afraid," Lon whined again. "I want to stay here, Midge." He looked +back, and, encountering Vandecar's eyes, made appeal to him. + +"Cronk," the governor said, "do you believe that I am your friend?" + +The squatter flung about, facing the other. + +"Yep," he answered slowly, "I know ye be my friend. If ye'll let me walk +with my hand in yer'n, I'll go." He said it simply, as a child to a +parent. He held out his crooked fingers, and Vandecar seized them. +Katherine took up her position on the other side of her father, and the +three stepped out into the night and began slowly to ascend the hill. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT + + +To Horace Shellington it seemed many hours before the small, jerky train +that ran between Auburn and Ithaca drew into the latter city. In his +eagerness to reach the squatter settlement without loss of time, he +hastened from the car into the station. He knew that it would be far +into the night before he reached Lon Cronk's, and, with his whole soul, +he hoped he would be in time to save Fledra from harm. At the little +window in the station he hurriedly demanded of the agent a mode of +conveyance to take him to the spot nearest the squatter's home. + +"There's no way to get there tonight over this road," said the man; "but +you might see if Middy Burnes could take you down the lake. He's got a +tug, and for a little money he'll run you right there." + +Horace quickly left the station, and, making his way to the street, +found the house to which he had been directed. At his knock Middy Burnes +poked a bald head out of the door and asked his business. In a few words +Shellington made known his wants. The tugman threw the door wider and +scratched his head as he cogitated: + +"Mister, it'll take me a plumb hour to get the fire goin' good in that +tug. If ye can wait that long, till I get steam up, I'll be glad to take +ye." So, presently the two walked together toward the inlet where the +boat was tied. + +"Who do you want to see down the lake this time of the year?" asked +Burnes, with a sidelong look at his tall companion. + +"Lon Cronk." + +"Ho! ho!" laughed Middy. "I jest brought him and Lem Crabbe up from +Tarrytown, with one of Lon's kids. She's a pretty little 'un. I pity +her, 'cause she didn't do nothin' but cry all the way up, and once she +jumped into the lake." + +"Did what?" + +The sharpness of Shellington's voice told Middy that this news was of +moment. + +"Well, ye see, 'tain't none of my business, 'cause the gal belongs to +Lon; but, if she was mine, I wouldn't give her to no Lem Crabbe. Lem +said she jumped in the lake after a pup; but I 'low he was monkeyin' +with her. Her pappy hopped in the water after her like a frog and pulled +her out quicker'n scat." + +With fear in his heart, Horace waited on deck for Burnes to get up +steam, and it seemed an interminable time before the tug at last drew +lazily from the inlet bridge, and, swinging round under Middy's +experienced hand, started slowly down the black stream. + + * * * * * + +Ann closed the shanty door after seeing the governor and his two +companions disappear up the hill, and smiled at Fledra with shining +eyes. The wonderful events of the evening had taken place in such rapid +order that she had no time to express her happiness to the girl. She +opened her arms, and Fledra darted into them. + +"It's all because you prayed, Sister Ann," she sobbed, "and because you +taught me how to pray. Does--does Horace know about my new father and +mother?" + +"No, Dear; he left Tarrytown before we ourselves knew. We received a +telegram from Horace saying he had come on to Ithaca. We must wait here; +for he'll arrive sometime tonight. We couldn't go and allow him to find +this place empty." + +"Of course not," the girl sighed impatiently. "Oh, I hope he comes +soon!" + +Her soul burned for a sight of him. He had been the first to fly to her +rescue, even when he had thought her but a squatter girl. He had not +shrunk from the dangers of the settlement, and, in spite of the peril of +Lem and Lon, he had been willing to drag her away from harm for the love +of her. The thought was infinitely sweet. + +At length Ann brought her to the present. + +"Fledra dear, can you realize that little Mildred is your own sister, +and that Mildred's mother is yours? Oh, Darling, you ought to be the +happiest girl in the world!" + +"I'm happy, all right," said Fledra gravely; "only, I feel sorry for +Katherine. Somehow, we changed Daddies, didn't we?" + +"Yes, Dear, and I feel for her too," lamented Ann. "I can't see how +she's going to bear it." + +"Maybe she's been a praying," said Fledra, "as I did when I thought I +was coming to Lem. It does help a lot." + +"Dear child, dear heart," murmured Ann, "your faith is greater than +mine! Katherine Vandecar is a saint, and--and so are you, Fledra." + +"No, I'm not." The girl dropped her eyes and flushed deeply. + +"Oh, but Fledra, you are!" Then a new thought entered Ann's mind, and +she hesitated before she continued. "Fledra, will you tell me something +about Mr. Brimbecomb? I mean--you know--the trouble you spoke of in your +letter to him?" + +Fledra flashed a startled glance. + +"Did he dare show it to you?" + +"No, no, Fledra; he dropped it, and Horace found it." + +"Is that the way you knew where I'd gone?" + +"Yes, and on account of it Floyd went to the governor's house." + +"Oh, why did you let Floyd go out? He is so ill!" Her eyes were +reproachful. + +Ann, with a smile, kissed the girl. + +"Dear, unselfish child," said she, "don't you understand that, if he +hadn't gone, you wouldn't have your strong, big father, nor would little +Floyd be now with his mother?" + +"Maybe our mother'll make Floyd well," cried Fledra. "Oh, she couldn't +help but love him, could she, Sister Ann?" + +"And it will be impossible for her not to love you, Deary," exclaimed +Ann, wiping her eyes. "But now you must dress. Have you still the +clothes you wore away from home?" + +"Yes, I have them; but they're all mussed. I fell in the lake, and got +them all wet, and they're wrinkled now. They're up in the loft. +Wait--I'll get them." She was scrambling up the ladder as she spoke, and +her last words were uttered in the darkness of the loft. + +Ann could hear the girl moving about overhead, and heard the dragging of +a box across the floor. Then another sound broke upon her ears, and +before she could move toward the door it opened, and a shabby, one-armed +man shuffled in, followed by Everett Brimbecomb. + + * * * * * + +After Everett had disappeared across the little bridge, Scraggy closed +the rickety door of her hut and went fidgeting about in the littered +room. Long she brooded, sniveling in her bewilderment. Something hazy, +something out of the past, knocked incessantly upon her demented brain. +This something touched her heart; for she whimpered as does a hurt child +when the hurt is deep and the child's mother is not near. She still +missed Black Pussy, and when she thought of the loss of her only friend +wilder paroxysms of frenzied grief filled the shanty. + +After one of her raving fits of crying more vehement than those +preceding, Black Pussy again came to her mind, and suddenly she was +taken back to the wintry night she had lost him. Feebly she put the +events of that evening together, one by one, until like a burst of light +the memory of her boy came to her. Not once hitherto had she remembered +him since his blow had sent her into unconsciousness. Now she recalled +how roughly her son had handled her, and she did not forget his threat +to kill her if she ever mentioned to anyone that she was his mother. She +recognized, too, the identity of the stranger who had asked her the way +to the scow but a little while before. + +A sane expression came into her eyes, and she settled herself back to +think. With her pondering came a clear thought--her boy was seeking his +father! Still somewhat dazed, she tottered to one corner of the hut and +fumbled for her shawl. + +"He axed for Lon!" she whispered. "Nope, he axed for Lem, his own daddy. +Now, Lemmy'll take me with 'em--oh, how I love 'em both! And the boy'll +eat all he wants, and his little hand'll smooth my face when my head +aches!" + +Muttering fond words, she opened the door and slid out into the night. +She paused on the rustic bridge, the sound of footsteps in the lane that +led to the tracks bringing her to a standstill. Several persons were +approaching her. They came steadily nearer, passed the footpath that led +to her hut, and she crept out. Two men and a woman were near enough for +Screech Owl to touch them, if she had put out her hand. She remained +perfectly quiet, and Lon Cronk's voice, muttering words she did not +understand, came to her through the underbrush. Then, in her joy, +Scraggy speedily forgot them, and, as she hurried down the hill sent out +cry after cry into the clear night. + + * * * * * + +For a long time Miss Shellington stood staring at Everett, and the man +as fixedly at her. The movements were still going on in the loft. + +"How came you here?" cried Ann sharply, when she had at last gathered +her senses. + +"I might ask you the same thing," replied Everett suavely. "This is +scarcely a place for a girl like you." + +"I came after Fledra," she said slowly. "I didn't know--" + +Everett came forward and crowded back her words with: + +"And I came for the same person!" + +Brimbecomb reasoned quickly that he dared not tell Ann the truth, and +that so long as she thought his actions were for Fledra's welfare she +would stand by him. + +"I found out that these ruffians had taken her, and I came after her. I +thought a good school would be better than this." He swept his hand over +the hut, and did not notice the expression that flitted across Ann's +face. + +Lem uttered an unintelligible grunt, and growled: + +"He's a damned liar, Miss! He wanted to buy the gal from me and Lon." + +Everett laughed sneeringly. + +"Miss Shellington would not believe such a tale as that," said he; "she +knows me too well." + +"I do believe him," said Ann. "I saw the letter you lost, which Fledra +wrote you. You dropped it in our drawing-room. Horace found it." + +Everett saw his fall coming. He would not be worsted by this woman, who +had believed once that he was the soul of truth. To lose her and the +prestige of her family, and to lose also Fledra, was more than he would +endure. He bounded forward and grasped her arm fiercely. + +"Where is that squatter girl? I'll stand nothing from you or that +brother of yours! Where is he, and where is she?" + +Ann stood silently praying for strength. So plainly had Everett shown +his colors that she felt disgust grow in her heart, although her eyes +were directed straight upon him. She hoped that the girl in the loft +upstairs would not come down until Governor Vandecar returned. Again she +sent up a soul-moving petition for help. + +"You can't have her!" she said, trying to speak calmly. "She is going to +marry my brother, Everett." + +Just then Fledra, robed in her own clothes, scrambled to the top rung of +the ladder. She paused halfway down and glanced over the scene below +with unbelieving eyes. + +"Go back up, Fledra," commanded Ann. + +"I don't think she'll go back up," gritted Brimbecomb. "Come down!" He +advanced a step, with his hand upon his hip. "I've something to coax you +with," he declared in an undertone. "It is this!" + +Fledra saw the revolver, noted the expression on the man's face, and +stepped slowly down the ladder. The silence of the moment that followed +was broken by several loud hoots of an owl. The first one seemed in +direct proximity to the hut; the last ones came faintly from the shore +of the lake. + +When she saw the gun, Ann whitened to the ears, and the threat in +Everett's eyes caused Lem to gurgle in his throat, as if he would speak +but could not. + +"I told you," said Everett, with his lips close to Fledra's ear, "that +I would use any means to get you.... Stand aside there--you two!" + +He turned his flashing eyes upon the scowman and Ann, and, placing his +arm about Fledra, drew her forward. The girl was so dazed at the turn of +affairs that she allowed Everett to drag her, unresisting, half the +length of the room. Then her glance moved upward to Ann. Miss +Shellington's face was as pallid as death, and her horrified look at +Everett brought Fledra to her senses. The girl looked appealingly at +Lem. The scowman's squinted eyes and the contortions of his face caused +Fledra to cry out: + +"Lem, Lem, save me! save me!" + +Crabbe drew his heavy body more compactly together, and, with his eyes +glued upon the revolver, advanced along the wall toward Brimbecomb. His +frightful wheezes and choking gulps attracted the lawyer's attention to +him, and the gun was suddenly leveled at his breast. + +"Stand back there, Crabbe!" ordered Everett. "You have nothing to do +with this." + +But, as the lawyer spoke, Lem sprang forward with the fierceness of a +wild beast. Instantly followed the report of a revolver; but the bullet +went wide and sunk into the opposite wall, for, as Everett aimed at Lem, +Fledra twisted and struck his arm so heavily that his fingers loosened +and the weapon clattered across the room. + +The impact of the scowman's body bore the lawyer down, while Fledra was +thrown away from the struggle by a sweep of Lem's left arm. Ann was +petrified with fear; but this did not keep her from picking up the girl +from the floor. In her terror she took in each motion of the fighters. +She saw Lem lift his left hand, and heard the sickening thud as his +great brown fist struck Everett full in the face. She saw the hook flash +in the candlelight, then bury its glittering prong in the other's neck. +Everett screamed once, then was silent; for with his unmaimed hand the +scowman had grasped his enemy's throat and was shaking the body as a dog +does a rat. In his frenzy, Lem threshed and tumbled Brimbecomb about on +the hut floor, the sight of his rival's blood sending him mad; and +always the sound of his gasps and chokes rose above the struggle. Of a +sudden the gurgles in the throat of the scowman ceased, his face became +purple black, and it seemed to Ann that his blood must burst through the +thick skin. With one last movement he again buried his hook in Everett, +then tried to throw the body from him; but, instead, he himself, fell in +a heap on the floor. + +Suddenly the door opened, and Scraggy Peterson staggered into the hut. + + + + +CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE + + +She sent no glance at Ann, nor did she see Fledra shrinking in the +corner. No thought came to her weak brain save of the two men at grips +with death. She staggered forward with a cry. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy, ye wouldn't kill yer own brat?... He's our little 'un!... +Lemmy!... God!... Ye've killed him!" + +Scraggy put her hands on Everett, and saw Lem struggle to sit up, the +lust of killing still blazing in his eyes. He had heard the woman's +words, and as he slowly grasped the import of them he turned over and +raised his head while pulling desperately at his throat. + +"Oh, Lemmy, love," she murmured, "ye've killed him this time! He's +dead!" She leaned farther over, and kissed the white face of her son. +"Yer hook's killed our little 'un, Lemmy--my little 'un, my little 'un!" + +"Oh, no, no, he isn't dead!" cried Ann. "He can't be dead!" She let go +her hold on Fledra, and, with Scraggy, bent over Everett. "Oh, he +breathes! But he isn't your son?" + +"Yep; he be Lemmy's boy and mine," answered Scraggy, lifting her eyes +once more to Ann. "Look! He were hurt here by the hook when he were a +baby." She drew aside Everett's tattered shirt-front and displayed a +long white mark. + +Ann staggered back. Everett had said to her: + +"My mother will know me by the mark on my breast." + +So this was the end of Everett's dream! + +"He didn't love his mammy very much," Scraggy went on, "nor his pappy, +nuther; but it were 'cause he didn't know nuther one of us very well, +and Lem didn't love him nuther. And now they've fit till he's dead! +Lemmy's sick, too. Look at his face! He can't swaller when he's sick +like that." She left Everett and crawled to Lem. + +"Can ye drink, Lemmy?" she asked sorrowfully. + +The grizzled head shook a negative. + +"Be ye dyin?" + +This time Crabbe's head came forward in assent. + +"Then ye dies with yer little boy--poor little feller! He were the +bestest boy in the hull world!" Here she placed an arm under Everett's +neck; throwing the other about Lem, she drew the two men together before +she resumed. "And Lemmy was the bestest man and pappy that anybody ever +see!" + + * * * * * + +Screech Owl's last words were nearly drowned by the shrill whistle of a +steamer. A minute later Ann and Fledra heard running footsteps coming +from the direction of the lake. There was no knock; but a quick jerk of +the latch-string flung wide the door--and Fledra was in Horace's arms. + +"Thank God, my little girl is safe!" he murmured. + +Then he glanced over her head, his horrified attention centered upon the +group on the floor. + +Scraggy looked up at him, still holding Lem and Everett. + +"I'm glad ye comed, Mister. Can't ye help 'em any?" + +For many minutes they worked in silence over the father and son. Once +the brilliant eyes of Brimbecomb opened and flashed bewilderedly about +the room, until he caught sight of Ann. A smile, sweet and winning, +curved his lips. Then he lapsed into unconsciousness again. + +"Oh, I want him to speak to me, Horace," moaned Ann, "only a little +word!" + +"Wait, Dear," said Horace. "We're doing all we can.... I believe that +man over there is dead." + +He made a motion as if to lean over the scowman; but Scraggy pushed him +back. + +"No, my Lemmy ain't dead," she wailed, "course he ain't dead!" She +placed her lips close to the dying man's ear, and called, "Lemmy, Lemmy, +this be Scraggy!" + +The hooked arm moved a trifle, and then was still. The fingers of the +left hand groped weakly about, and Scraggy, with a sob, lifted the arm +and put it about her. Had the others in the room been mindful of the +action, they would have seen the man's muscles tighten about the woman's +thin neck. Then presently his arm loosened and he was dead. + +Everett's eyes were open, and he was trying to speak. + +"Is--Ann--here?" he whispered faintly. + +"Yes, Dear, I am here, right close beside you. Can't you feel my hands?" + +His head turned feebly, and his fingers sought hers. + +"I have been--wretchedly--wicked!" + +His voice was so low that Horace did not catch the words; but Scraggy +heard, and crawled from Lem to Miss Shellington's side. + +"Missus, will ye tell my little boy-brat that his mammy be here? Will ye +say as how I loved him--him and Lemmy, allers?" + +Her haggard face was close to Ann's, and the latter took in every word +of the low-spoken petition. Miss Shellington bent over the dying man. + +"Everett," she said brokenly, "your own mother is here, and she wants +you to speak to her." + +Brimbecomb partly rose, and, in scanning those in the hut, his eyes fell +upon Screech Owl. The tense agony seemed for an instant to leave his +face, and it fell into more boyish lines. + +"Little 'un--pretty little 'un," whispered Scraggy "yer mammy loves ye, +and Lemmy loved ye, too, if he did hit ye!" + +Screech Owl hung over him many minutes in a breathless silence; but when +Vandecar came in Everett, too, was dead. Then, at last, Scraggy moved +toward the door, and, with the same wild cry that had haunted the +settlement for so many years, sprang out into the night. + + * * * * * + +From her hiding place in the gulch, Scraggy saw Vandecar and the rest +mount the hill. When they had disappeared, she slunk down the lane and +made straight for Lon's hut. With dread in her eyes, she stood for +sometime before the dark shanty, and then swayed forward to the window. + +When she reached it, superstition forced her back; but love proved +stronger than fear, and she looked into the room. So dark was it within +that she could see only the white mound on the floor--the mound made by +the dead father and son. They were hers--all that was left of the men +she had loved always! Scraggy tried the door; but found it locked. Then +she attempted to move the window; but it, too, had been fastened. With a +stone she hammered out the glass, making an opening through which she +dragged her body. As she stood there in silent gloom, the very air +seemed to hang heavy with death. In the dark Scraggy broke out into +sobs, and was seized with spasms of shivering; she had no strength to +move forward or backward. + +But again love drove her on, and some seconds passed before she found +matches to light the candle. When the dim flame lighted up the room, she +turned slowly to the middle of the floor. Tremblingly she drew down the +covering and looked upon her dead. They were hers--these men were hers +even in death! Chokingly she stifled her sobs, and then the decision +came to her that she would keep a night vigil until break of day. Of the +two, Screech Owl knew not which she loved better. + +"Ye both be dead," she moaned, looking first at Lem then at Everett; +"dead so ye'll never breathe no more! But Scraggy loves ye.... God! ye +nuther one of ye knows how she loves ye! There weren't no men in the +hull world as good as ye both was.... Lemmy didn't know ye was his, +little 'un, and ye didn't know Lemmy were yer daddy. I'll stay with ye +both till the day." + +Saying this, she crouched low between Crabbe and Brimbecomb, and, +encircling each neck with an arm, thrust her face down close between +them. + +Lon Cronk's old clock on the shelf ticked out the minutes into the +somberness of the hut. The waves of the lake, breaking ceaselessly upon +the shore, softened the harsh, uneven croaks of the marsh-frogs with +their harmony. Through the broken window drifted the night noises, and +the wind fluttered the candle-flame weakly. Suddenly Screech Owl thought +she heard a voice--a voice filled with tender sympathy and pathos. +Without disengaging her arms, she lifted herself and searched with dim +eyes even the corners of the hut. Misty forms shaded to ghost-gray +seemed to steal out and group themselves about her dead. She took her +arm from Everett and brushed back the straggling locks that blurred her +sight. + +The voice spoke again, pronouncing her name in low, even tones. Once +more she wound her arm about Everett, and pressed herself down between +her beloveds. Her eyes, protruding and fearful, saw the candlelight grow +dimmer. + +"Lemmy, Lemmy," she gasped between hard-coming breaths, "I'm comin' +after ye and our pretty boy! Wherever ye both be--I come--" + +A film gathered over Scraggy's eyes, and her words were cut short by the +pain of the intermittent flutterings of her heart. She fell lower, and +with a last weak effort drew the heads closer together. Then Scraggy's +spirit, which had ever sought her lover and her son, took flight out +into the vast expanse of the universe, to find Everett and Lem. + + * * * * * + +Governor Vandecar bent over his wife. + +"Darling," he murmured, "I have brought you back your other baby. Won't +you turn and--look at--her?" + +Fledra was standing at her father's side, and now for an instant she +looked down into the blue eyes through which she saw the yearning heart +of her mother. Then she knelt down with Floyd, and they rested their +heads in tearful silence under the hands of these dear ones, who +trembled with thankfulness. + +The last fifteen years flashed as a panorama across the governor's mind. +That day he had discharged his debt to Lon Cronk by placing the squatter +where his diseased mind could be treated, and he had insisted that his +own name and home should be Katharine's, the same as of yore. It was not +until Mildred opened the door and entered hesitantly that he raised his +head. Silently he held out his arms and drew his baby girl into them. + + * * * * * + +Horace's first duty when he returned to Tarrytown was to make Ann as +comfortable as he could. She had borne up well under the tragedy, and +smiled at him bravely as he left for Vandecar's. The governor met him in +the hall and drew him into his library. + +"I must speak with you, boy, before--" + +"Then I may talk with Fledra?" + +The governor hesitated. + +"She is so young yet, Horace! I beg of you to wait, won't you? There are +many things to be attended to before she can leave her mother and me. +We've only just found her." + +"I must see her, though," replied Horace stubbornly. + +"You shall, if you will promise me--" + +"I won't promise anything," said Horace, slowly raising his eyes. "After +I have spoken to her, we'll decide." + +Vandecar sighed and touched the bell. + +"Say to Miss Fledra that I wish to speak with her," he said to the +servant. + +After a moment they heard her coming through the hall. Vandecar placed +his hand upon Horace's arm; but the young man flung it off as the door +opened and Fledra came in. Her face was still pale and wan. Her eyes +darkened by circles, testified to the misery of the days since she had +left him. Horace spoke her name softly, held out his arms, and she fled +into them. He pressed her head closely to his breast, smoothing the +black curls, while blinding tears coursed down his face. The governor +turned from them to the window. He stood there, until Horace asked +huskily: + +"Fledra, Fledra, do you still love me? Oh, say that you do! I'm +perishing to be forgiven for my lack of faith in you. Can you forgive +me, beloved?" + +"I love you, Horace," she murmured, lifting bright, shy eyes. "And I +love my beautiful mother, too, and--oh, I--worship my splendid father." + +She held out one hand to Governor Vandecar, over which the father closed +his fingers. Then she threw back her head and smiled at them both. + +"I'm going to stay with my mother till she gets well. I'm goin' to help +Floyd till he walks as well as ever. Then I'm goin' to study and read +till my father's satisfied. Then, after that," she turned a radiant +glance on both men, and ended, "when he wants me, I'll go with my +Prince." + + + THE END + + + * * * * * + +JOHN FOX, JR'S. + +STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.= + + +THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +_foot-prints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and +the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder +chase than "the trail of the lonesome pine." + + +THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It +is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization. + +"Chad," the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he +came--he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, +seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and +mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery--a charming waif, +by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in the +mountains. + + +A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND. Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the +heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two +impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of "The Blight's" +charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the +love making of the mountaineers. + +Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives. + + +_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_ + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL + + +THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles. + +The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a +middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his +theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could +desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening +follows and in the end he works out a solution. + + +A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As The _Inside of +the Cup_ gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so +_A Far Country_ deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with +other vital issues confronting the twentieth century. + + +A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper. + +This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine, +is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It +is frankly a modern love story. + + +MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys. + +A New England state is under the political domination of a railway and +Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people +is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own +interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays +no small part in the situation. + + +THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Baylis. + +Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky +wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in +Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi, +and the treasonable schemes against Washington. + + +CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn. + +A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a +crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then +surrendered all for the love of a woman. + + +THE CELEBRITY. An episode. + +An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities +between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest, +keenest fun--and is American to the core. + + +THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play. + +A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid +power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are +inspiring. + + +RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer. + +An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial +times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and +interesting throughout. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +ZANE GREY'S NOVELS + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list.= + + +THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS +Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton. + +Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent Mexican +border of the present day. A New York society girl buys a ranch which +becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal cowboys defend her +property from bandits, and her superintendent rescues her when she is +captured by them. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful +close. + + +DESERT GOLD +Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, lost in the +desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they can go no +farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising along the +border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the two prospectors +had willed to the girl who is the story's heroine. + + +RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE +Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon +authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a rich ranch +owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by the invisible +hand of the Mormon Church to break her will. + + +THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN +Illustrated with photograph reproductions. + +This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, +known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert +and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of yellow crags, deep canons +and giant pines." It is a fascinating story. + + +THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT +Jacket in color. Frontispiece. + +This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A lovely girl, who +has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young New Englander. The +Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall become the second +wife of one of the Mormons-- + +Well, that's the problem of this sensational, big selling story. + + +BETTY ZANE +Illustrated by Louis F. Grant. + +This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful +young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. Life +along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty's heroic defense of the +beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, and Betty's +final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + + * * * * * + +STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER + +=May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list.= + + +LADDIE. +Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. + +This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story +is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it +is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs +of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie, the +older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess, an English +girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about whose family +there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the book and a +double wedding at the close. + + +THE HARVESTER. +Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. + +"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who +draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the +book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be +notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," and the +Harvester's whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life +which has come to him--there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic +quality. + + +FRECKLES. +Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford. + +Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he +takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great +Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to +the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The +Angel" are full of real sentiment. + + +A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. +Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda. + +The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of +the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness +towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of +her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and +unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage. + + +AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. +Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. + +The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The +story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. +The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and +its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. + + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK + + * * * * * + + + Transcriber's note: Punctuation has been made regular and consistent + with contemporary standards. + + Page 67, "forword" changed to "forward" (boy went forward). + + Page 320, "wip" changed to "wipe" (to wipe away). + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of From the Valley of the Missing, by +Grace Miller White + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING *** + +***** This file should be named 18093.txt or 18093.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/0/9/18093/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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