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Shellington did not correct her mistakes in English as he had done so often of late. With shaded remonstrance in his tone, he said: "Fledra, he is going to marry my sister, and he's my friend." "He ain't good enough for Sister Ann," muttered Flea stubbornly. "She loves him, though, and that is enough to make us all treat him with respect."

Determination rang in his words, and the face of the rigid girl paled, and she caught at the table for support. "Ye see," went on Lon, "a kid can't do a thing her pappy says she can't. I says yer to come home to the shanty. And, if ye don't, then I'll do what I said I would. I'll kill that dude Shellington and " Before he could finish, Fledra burst in upon him. "Ye mustn't! Ye mustn't, Pappy Lon!

She told him that the stranger had gone; but that, as she had received no communication, she did not know the next steps that would be taken. It was nearly nine o'clock when Ann tapped softly upon Fledra's door. There had been no sign of life from the blue room that morning; for Miss Shellington had given orders that Fledra be allowed to sleep if she so wished.

Horace gazed at his companion for several seconds. "Something tells me that you're lying," he said finally. An evil change of expression was the only external sign of Brimbecomb's longing to throttle Horace. "A compliment, I must say, my dear Shellington," he said; "and the only reason I have for not punching you is Ann." The other's eyes narrowed ominously.

He swept his hand over the hut, and did not notice the expression that flitted across Ann's face. Lem uttered an unintelligible grunt, and growled: "He's a damned liar, Miss! He wanted to buy the gal from me and Lon." Everett laughed sneeringly. "Miss Shellington would not believe such a tale as that," said he; "she knows me too well." "I do believe him," said Ann.

Horace leaned over toward the squatter and threw out his next words angrily, "There's the law, Mr. Cronk! Ann, please call Fledra." The girl responded with the weight of the world on her. Had some arrangements been made for her and Floyd between Horace and Lon? She knew that Ann was there, and that Mr. Shellington had been talking with the squatter long enough to decide what should be done.

You don't look at all well." "I keep tellin' her that same thing, Sister Ann," said Floyd; "but she keeps mutterin' over them words till I know 'em myself." Miss Shellington turned Fledra's face up to hers, smoothing down the dark curls. "Go to bed, child; you're absolutely tired out. Kiss me goodnight, Dear."

"She's a tired little girl." "She'd be glad to see me here," said Floyd wistfully. "Sister Ann, what's the matter with Fledra?" Miss Shellington would have given much to have been able to answer this question. Finally her alarm became so strong that she left her breakfast unfinished, and, unknown to Floyd, instituted a systematic search for the girl.

As it came in contact with her fingers, Miss Shellington drew back a little. She had been used to slender-limbed, soft-coated dogs; this small, shivering mongrel, touching her flesh with a tongue roughly beaded, sent a tremor of disgust over her. Flea stepped forward, took Snatchet from her brother, and tucked him away under the arm opposite the one Squeaky occupied.

"Don't say that outside my office," warned Everett. "The law does not want to be threatened." Lon remained silent. "We'll have to deal with Mr. Shellington very carefully," cautioned the lawyer; "for he is proud and stubborn, and has a great liking for your children. In fact, I think he is quite in love with the girl." Lon started to his feet, his swart face paling.