Part 66 (2/2)
”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 Sh.e.l.lington's happiness would be a.s.sured. 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.
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