Part 22 (1/2)

The squatter walked to the head of the cot and peered from all points of vantage.

”He sure air, kid,” he chuckled. ”I can't see nothin' but a row of red curls a mile long. Andy'll git back in the garret all right if Burnett don't pull you off'n that bed.”

”He won't do that,” said Tess. ”Jesus'll see I stay on it, I bet.”

”There's some un a comin' now,” hissed Skinner between his teeth, startled. Tess had no more than cuddled under the blanket when a loud knock resounded throughout the shanty. Daddy Skinner lifted the bar and opened the door, his large form filling the narrow door-frame. At the sight of Sandy Letts' smiling face, he stepped back, relieved.

”G.o.d, Sandy,” he grinned, ”ye might as well kill a man as scare him to death. Come in an' set.”

Lysander stepped into the kitchen, and his eyes fell upon Tess.

”What air the matter with the brat?” he asked, looking from Orn to the girl lying there so languidly.

”She air kind a hurt--” began the fisherman.

”My foot air all packed up in a rag,” interjected Tess. ”I air always doin' something to myself. The next time I come jumpin' down the lane, I hope I won't be hurtin' my ankle.”

She smiled wanly at Sandy, and he grinned back at her.

”If I knowed ye was sick, Tess, I'd a brought ye some candy,” said he, good-naturedly.

”Candy ain't good for a girl's teeth,” sighed Tess. ”Don't never bother 'bout bringin' it, Sandy.”

”A pound or two won't hurt ye,” a.s.serted Letts. ”An' when I likes a girl, I allers bring 'er sweets. I say kid, ye do look awful pretty, layin' there with your curls all stretched out that way. Now, my cousin Ben, he wanted to marry ye, too, but he never liked yer hair; I love it.”

”Daddy were jest a sayin',” put in Tess, with a fleeting glance at her father, ”that it air mighty good for my curls to get spread out like this. Wasn't you, Daddy?”

Daddy Skinner stared at her, and her warm, glowing smile gave strength to the old man's heart. Without waiting for his reply, Tess turned to Letts.

”Where ye been, Sandy, an' what ye been doin'?” she asked, simulating an interest she did not feel.

Lysander, pleased at the attention, thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his vest and spread out all his fingers, giving a little important twist to each.

”I been down to Riker's a searchin' their shack fer Andy Bishop,”

bragged he, ”an' now I air goin' to Longman's.”

A little groan fell from Tessibel's lips.

”I air ashamed of ye, Sandy,” she said slowly. ”Longmans wouldn't have no murderer in their hut.... They be awful good folks.... Ye know they be, Sandy.”

”Sure I know it, Tessie, but I've said as how I air goin' to search all the squatters' huts an' I air goin' to do it, I can tell ye that.”

Tess smiled at him wistfully, pleadingly.

”I'd hate ye all my life, Sandy Letts,” she vowed, winking one eye at the burly squatter, ”if ye'd come in my house and b.u.t.t 'round. Course ye can do it if ye want to, but I'd never speak to ye again in the hull world.”

Sandy threw back his head and guffawed.

”I wouldn't do nothin' like that to you, pretty kid,” he answered with pride in his tones, ”'cause I know if ye had that dwarf in this hut ye'd pa.s.s him up to me quick.... Five thousand ain't to be got off'n every bush these days. I air after that Waldstricker reward, an' I air goin' to get it!”

Tess spread a little wider a few of the dusky, s.h.i.+ning curls.