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She had stubbornly kept the presence of the child in her hut from her squatter friend, although Myra had usually had a way of worming into her innermost confidence. But Tess had given her oath and loyalty to Teola, and feared to tell the other girl the parentage of the child, lest Myra, who loved Ben Letts, should blab the truth to him.
With the alertness of an Indian she heard the crackling of twigs in the underbrush. She closed the door, slipped the lock and tucked the babe in the basket, and waited. Somebody was coming from the hill above, breaking the branches as he ran. It was Ben Letts, probably. A light tap came upon the door.
He pulled it out, but he, also, lost his balance, and in his efforts to save himself from falling, smashed the bottle on the top rail of the fence. The whiskey ran down to the ground and the thirsty moss drank it up. Letts gazed at the jagged-edged glass in his hand, stupefied by the magnitude of his calamity. Then he drew a long breath and cursed his luck.
Jake was on his feet before Letts could take a forward step and had placed himself between the big squatter and the girl. That afternoon when Jake came back to see Tessibel, she threw a quick question at him. "Air he dead, Jake?" "Lordy, no, Tess, 'course not! He's tougher'n cow's tripe.... Sit down, brat, an' I'll tell ye about it.... Don't be shakin' so. It were like this!
"She wouldn't deceive any one she loves for anything in the world, so Deforrest tells me." "I sincerely hope so," sighed Ebenezer. "I've quite set my heart on her helping me. Money is no object in a matter like this." "Of course not," murmured Helen, sympathetically. "Letts also is doing some good work," Ebenezer continued. "He's been through nearly every hut on the Rhine." Helen shivered.
Her straight young figure, glowing face, and flaming eyes under the ruddy aureole of her hair made a picture of grace, beauty and passion that would have fascinated a more fastidious observer than Sandy Letts. "God, girl, but ye air a beauty!" he cried, enraptured.
Widden checked the obvious retort and walked doggedly in the rear of Miss Foster. Then, hardly able to believe his ears, he heard her say something to Mr. Letts. "Eh?" said that gentleman, in amazed accents. "You fall behind," said Miss Foster. "That that's not the way to talk to the head of the family," said Mr. Letts, feebly. "It's the way I talk to him," rejoined the girl.
He limped away not knowing that she had passed as effectually out of his life as if she had not dwelt in the rickety cabin on his right. Ben Letts rose to his feet after cleaning his jack-knife in the water and took the same path around the mud cellar which Tessibel had taken. The cabin door was closed Tess nowhere in sight. Ben had intended Ben didn't know just what his intentions were.
She threw despairing glances about her, and shrank from the imaginary sneaking figures haunting the dismal night. Almost running, she reached the Letts' shanty. How soon would the officers come for Ben? They might have been there before her. The cabin was dark, and she tapped timidly upon the kitchen door. Only a great snore from the sleeping Ben inside answered her.
"You be high I air low, as Ben Letts said.... But, but," she faltered, finishing her sentence brokenly, "But I's yer squatter." For one bitter moment the Longman child with its old-man face flitted across her vision. She shivered, rose hastily, and went to the stove, scattering the lids from their openings before uttering another word. Frederick was watching her critically.
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