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Updated: May 4, 2025
When Flea lifted her embarrassed gaze to the strangers, she saw the same face that had peered at her over Horace's shoulder at the Dryden fair, the face to which Screech Owl had made her silent appeal. A graceful girl followed, whose eyes expressed astonishment as Horace spoke. "These are my young friends, you will remember, Everett, from the fair, Flea and Flukey Cronk."
Under the steady gaze Cronk looked down and began to whittle. In after days Ann could always conjure up the picture before her. Fledra looked so infinitely young and melancholy, as her eyes fixed themselves in wide terror upon Cronk. Out of the ragged blouse rose the proud, dark head, and the lovely face was almost overshadowed by two tightly clenched fists.
Brimbecomb's heart began to beat tumultuously. Chance was giving him a lead he could not have won of his own efforts, and he smiled, turning on Cronk more cordially. "Have you demanded your children of Mr. Shellington?" he asked. "Yep." Everett bent over eagerly. "What did he say to you?" "He says as how I could go to the devil, and that I could git the law after him if I wanted 'em.
I daresay that's why Dick 'as never took to drink. He says it takes the polish off from a chap's ambition." All this time, at the back of the "snack-stand" across the lot the Cronk brothers were engaged in earnest conversation, low-toned and serious, irascible on the part of the one, conciliatory on the part of the other.
"Why, Jacky, he's the slickest dip that's short for pickpocket in the United States. He's the king of all the glue- fingers, that boy is. My eye, 'ow he can do wot he does, I can't for the life of me see." He then went into a long dissertation on the astonishing accomplishments of Artful Dick Cronk. "And you all associate with him?" cried David, openly surprised. "Certain sure. Why not?
His mind went back to the hut on Cayuga Lake, and he thought of how when their absence had been discovered Granny Cronk had cried a little, and how Pappy Lon had cursed and grown more silent than ever. The tender heart of the sick boy yearned toward the old squatter woman, who had been the only mother he and Flea had ever known.
There were tears in his eyes as the train rolled away. He had said good-by to all of them to Joey and Ruby and Casey, and they had wished him good luck with that complaisant philosophy which was theirs by nature. Some one sat down beside him in the seat. He looked up. "I guess I'll go part ways with you," said Artful Dick Cronk comfortably. "I want you to do me a favor.
Everett would have to use Ann again to convince the governor of his right to act. It had been far easier to explain his interest in Cronk to Mrs. Vandecar than to this quiet, powerful man opposite. The brown-flecked gray eyes looked unusually sober and truth-demanding. "I won't have them any longer with Ann than I can help," Everett broke forth suddenly. "She is killing herself over them.
"Shall we take this boat or wait for the next?" he asked. It was as if he had said: "We are companions in misery, you and I. Let's make the best of it." David looked at him for a moment oddly. The humor of the situation struck him all at once; but the smile of derision died on his lips. After all, perhaps he was in the discard with Ernie Cronk. "I'm going to catch this boat," he said decisively.
Then a shout from the rear sent Lem running to the stern of the scow which was now at a standstill. He looked down, and on Lon's arm he saw Fledra, pressing Snatchet against her breast. With his other hand the squatter was clinging to the rudder. "Here she is!" Cronk called. "Grab her up, Lem!"
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