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"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.
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.
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!
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.
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." When Fledra entered the breakfast room it was evident to both Ann and Horace that she had had no sleep.
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.
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.
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."
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!"
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.
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