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Updated: June 23, 2025
Horace, not understanding her enigmatical words, regarded her gravely. "What a queer girl you are, anyway, Fledra!" he exclaimed. He spoke almost irritably. He felt like grasping her up and shaking her as one might an obstreperous child. His moody silence made Fledra repeat her words.
"And I have something to say to you," said Horace, his eyes steadily leveled at the man before him. "Where is Fledra Cronk?" Everett's confidence gave him a power that was not to be daunted by this direct question. "My dear fellow," he replied calmly, "I don't exactly know where she is; but I can say that I've had a note from her father, telling me that she was with him in New York, and safe.
But, whether by fair means or by foul, he resolved that Fledra should become his. Presently, as if to gain time, he asked: "Do you want them both?" "Yep." "The boy is ill, I hear," he said. "That don't make no difference," cried Lon. "I want him jest the same. Can ye get 'em fer me, Mister?"
He had grown taciturn and gloomy. The boyish energy had left him. She ventured to speak to Everett about it. "He doesn't seem like the same boy at all," she said sadly, after explaining. "I can't imagine what has caused the change in him." Everett remembered Shellington's face as it had bent over Fledra, and smiled slightly. "Have you ever thought lately that he might be in love?"
Dumb with fright and amazement, his treachery driving every thought from her mind for the moment, Fledra looked at him. "I'd rather go with Lem," she got out at last, "'cause I couldn't stand yer hellish pretty face nor yer white teeth. They look like them big stones standing over the dead men out yonder."
Ann questioned Fledra with a look; the girl made clearer her demand by adding: "Do you believe that Jesus hears you when you ask Him something you want very, very bad?" She looked so miserable, so frail and lonely, that Ann put her arms about her. "Sit down here with me, Fledra. There! Put your little tired head right here, and I'll tell you all I can." "I want to be helped!" murmured Fledra.
For a moment the harassed man knew not what to say to the silent, trembling girl. "Fledra," he began, "the first move has been made in your case by your father." "Must we go?" burst from the quivering lips. "No, no: not if you have told me the truth about your past life I mean about your father being cruel to you."
Fledra brought him from his reverie. "There ain't no use of my standin' here any longer," she said. "I might as well go and ask Pappy Lon. He's better'n you." To let her go this way seemed intolerable. "Wait," he commanded, "wait! When you came in, I didn't mean to offend you. Will you wait?"
I mean you know the trouble you spoke of in your letter to him?" Fledra flashed a startled glance. "Did he dare show it to you?" "No, no, Fledra; he dropped it, and Horace found it." "Is that the way you knew where I'd gone?" "Yes, and on account of it Floyd went to the governor's house." "Oh, why did you let Floyd go out? He is so ill!" Her eyes were reproachful.
Cronk looks like a very determined man; but he'll find that I will fight his claim every inch of the way." Shellington bent toward her and rested a hand on the papers he had been sorting. "I'm very glad you didn't go to school today, and you must not go again until it is over. This man may try to kidnap you." He found it impossible to call Lon her father. Fledra reached out and grasped his hands.
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