Part 32 (1/2)

”Ye'll get better with the goin' of the warm weather,” consoled Jake.

”These days be hot now for the wellest of us.”

”Yep,” murmured Daddy Skinner, drowsily.

Tessibel left the two men alone, and went back to the kitchen. Her throat was filled with longing, her lips drawn a little closer together.

She sat down near the door, looking out upon the lake. She dared not open the letter then, not until Jake had gone and Daddy was asleep.

Brewer came out quietly, his cheerful manner subdued somewhat.

Tess got to her feet. She tried to smile, but the serious expression on the squatter's face brought her quickly to his side.

”Jake,” she murmured, quick-breathed, ”ye think he air awful sick, eh?”

Brewer s.h.i.+fted his gaze out through the door. The sight of the girl's pleading face hurt him.

”He ain't real pert; that air a fact,” was his reply.

”We air doin' everythin' we can think of,” Tess told him. ”Mr. Young's doctor comes awful often, an' he says Daddy air got heart trouble.”

”He do seem to have a hard time breathin',” answered Jake, trying to be cheerful; ”but if I was you, Tessie, I wouldn't worry. He'll be gettin'

well. He air stronger'n a horse.”

Tess wanted to believe her father was better. She couldn't allow her mind to take any other view of it.

”He air always been right rugged,” she said, nodding, ”an' if his heart'd only stop beatin' so hard--” She hesitated and touched Brewer's arm. ”Thank ye fer bringin' my letter,” she interrupted herself irrelevantly.

”That air all right, Tess,” smiled Brewer. ”Ye see when I go to the Postoffice fer our mail, I ask fer your'n an' fer Longman's, an' I most allers get some fer one or t'other.... Nice day, eh, ain't it?”

”Yep,” affirmed Tess, dully. She bade the fisherman good-bye and stood watching him take his way along the lakeside until he had disappeared.

When she turned she caught sight of Andy's glistening eyes looking at her.

”Jake air a good feller, ain't he, brat?” he asked.

Tess came directly under the ceiling hole.

”Yep, he sure air,” she answered. ”Andy, I air a feelin' so bad today.

Will ye listen for Daddy if I go out a spell?”

”Course I will, go long,” he urged. ”Close the door when ye go out. I'll keep my ears open.”

Tess walked slowly along the lake sh.o.r.e path, her head drooping wearily.

She knew the letter in her pocket was from Frederick. To have opened it even before Andy's loving eyes, or in the presence of any other person, would have been, in her opinion, a desecration.

Against the high gray shoulder of a ragged rock, she sat down pensively.

It was here she and Frederick had spent so many happy hours and, now, alone, she had come to read his letter. She took it slowly from her pocket, studied the picture of the s.h.i.+p in the corner, and whispered over and over the name under it. It seemed almost impossible to tear it open. What had he told her? She pressed the envelope to her lips. Her darling's hands had touched it, his fingers had written her name upon it. Ripping it slowly along the edge, she took out the contents, and there fluttered to the rock a yellow backed bill. Tess picked it up and examined it carefully. Frederick had sent her some money. Tess laid it down again and placed a small stone upon it. Then she took up the letter.

For a few seconds her eyes misted so profusely she could not read. She dashed the back of her hand across her lids, choking down hard sobs that rose insistently. When she could control her emotions enough to read, she fixed her eyes upon the first words: ”My own darling:”