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Updated: May 20, 2025
From here he eyed the Brimbecomb mansion for some minutes; then he cast his glance to the steps of the Shellington home beyond. After a few seconds a young man ran down the stairs, and Lon slunk back to Lem in the toolhouse. An instant later both men were startled by the cry of an owl. Lem rose uneasily, while Lon stared into the darkness. "That weren't a real owl, were it, Lon?" Lem muttered.
She slipped to the floor, picked up the sealed letter with her name on it, and climbed into bed again, while examining it closely. With a mystified expression upon her face, she tore open the envelop. Unfolding one of the two letters, inclosed, she read: "Flea Cronk. "This is to tell ye that if ye don't come back with me and Lem, we'll kill that guy Shellington and Flukey.
"Did ye tell anyone ye was goin' with me?" Fledra nodded her head. "Did ye tell Flukey?" "Yes, and Mr. Shellington. But I told them both that I came of my own free will. But you know I came because I wanted Mr. Shellington to live and Flukey to stay where he is. But I ain't going to be alone in this room with Lem tonight I tell you that!" Lon sat down and smoked moodily on his pipe.
Ann clutched Katherine by the arm as if to stay her movement, as if to keep her from the dazed squatter. His confession of the kidnapping and his uncouth appearance forced Miss Shellington to try and protect her gentle friend from his contact. But Katherine loosened Ann's fingers in stony silence. Only a choking sound from Fledra broke the quietude.
Horace Shellington took a long breath as he entered his office one morning in the latter part of March. The blustering wind that had raged all night had almost subsided, and he felt glad for Floyd's sake; for, no matter how warm they kept the little lad, the sound of the wind through the trees and the dismal wail of the branches at night made him shiver and fret with nervous pain.
In a few words Shellington made known his wants. The tugman threw the door wider and scratched his head as he cogitated: "Mister, it'll take me a plumb hour to get the fire goin' good in that tug. If ye can wait that long, till I get steam up, I'll be glad to take ye." So, presently the two walked together toward the inlet where the boat was tied.
He bowed awkwardly to Shellington, and essayed to speak; but Horace interrupted: "Do you wish to see me?" "Yep," answered Lon, glancing sullenly over the young lawyer. "I've come for my brats." "Your what?" "My kids, Flea and Flukey Cronk." Horace felt something clutch at his heart.
She left him with pathetic dignity, and her last glance showed his eyes, too, filled with a strange pain. The next week held unutterable pain for Flea, each twenty-four hours deepening her unhappiness more and more. She made no effort to talk with Shellington, nor did she mention her sorrow to Ann. It did not seem necessary to her that she should again speak to Horace of going away.
"Him, back in there," replied Flea, casting her head backward in the direction of the library. "You mean Mr. Shellington?" "Yep!" Everett burst into a loud laugh. At the sound, Horace stepped to his study-door and looked out. His face darkened as he discerned Flea standing against the wall and Brimbecomb looking down at her.
She was standing at the door with her ear to the keyhole. She heard the servant pass her, heard the door open, and Lon's voice asking for Mr. Shellington. Then she slid back to Flukey, trembling from head to foot. "Ye're sick, Dear," said the boy. "Get off this bed, Snatchet! Lay down here by me, Flea and rest." The girl dropped down beside him and closed her eyes with a groan.
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