The fingers holding the broad-bladed knife sank to the fisherman's knee, and for a moment the stick Orn had been cutting poised in the air. Then a slow, broad smile showed his discolored teeth.
"It air the truth I been tellin' you," he declared deliberately. "I don't know nothin' about Bishop, an' I don't want to know nothin'.... Ye ain't got anything on me, Burnett. I air a livin' here peaceful with my kid."
"Well, I'm goin' to search your shanty, anyhow," Burnett growled menacingly, his under jaw sticking out like a bull dog's.
"Well, search it, I ain't carin'," consented Orn. "But my kid air sick in there, an' I don't want ye to scare her."
Without waiting for further parley, Burnett, like an enraged lion, bounded to the shanty threshold and one long stride took him well on his way across the kitchen. Suddenly he stopped, staring straight ahead of him, as if some shining spectre from another world had appeared in his path.
CHAPTER XV
THE SEARCH
Burnett wiped his hand across his eyes to efface the vision which so unexpectedly impeded his official progress. It was the sight of a girl, nestled on a cot, and over the pillow upon which her head rested was strewn in a wild, magnificent disarray, a profusion of tawny curls, such as he never had seen. For a moment the corpulent deputy from Auburn, the terror of all the criminals in the country around, forgot his delegated obligation to the state. Tessibel Skinner's two slender arms huddled a small, speckled hoot owl; and as in a dream, Burnett noted the girl's red lips touched the bird affectionately in a hasty little caress.
Another thing he noted was the unflinching and prolonged questioning glance with which the red-brown eyes met his. Tess couldn't speak a word at first, now that she was actually face to face with the man after Andy. He was even sterner than she had imagined he would be.
Quite gravely she considered his big frame from head to foot, took hasty account of the firm setting of his jaw, and the deep, clean-cut lines from his eyes to his chin. Then, she smiled a rare, enchanting smile, the deepening dimples around the red moist lips suffusing the deputy warden with a warm, welcoming glow.
"I heard ye talkin' to Daddy, mister," she said, gulping. "I air awful glad ye came in to see me too. I'd a been hurt if ye'd gone without my gettin' a peep at ye."
During each infinitesimal space of time, Burnett stood in the sunshine of Tessibel's smile, his austere churlishness was slipping from him like a loosened garment. As if forced by an unseen hand, he took one step nearer her.
"Set down, sir," invited Tess, clutching the owl with one hand, and making an elaborate sweep with the other. "That air Daddy's chair--ye air awful handsome and big, but the chair'll hold ye all right."
Burnett caught his breath and sank into the indicated seat. He'd intended to turn that shanty over from top to bottom, to rip it almost to the ground. But the sight of the red-headed sprite on the cot fondling a woodland owl, and the effect of her smile upon the beating of his heart, dissolved his rage and stayed his action.
"Well, I'll be damned!" was all he said, and Tess smiled again. She didn't mind if he swore. The one thing she desired was to get rid of him as soon as possible. She was conscious of the gyrations of Andy Bishop curled in the straw under her slender body, and she knew her curls were shrouding a face distorted with anxiety.
"Are you sick, kid?" questioned Burnett, when he could draw a natural breath.
"Well, ye see," acknowledged Tess, "I ain't 'xactly sick, but I got my ankle all packed up. Sometimes girls hurt their ankles an' they have to put a rag 'round 'em."
Tessibel was very careful not to say she'd hurt hers in this explanation to Burnett's question.
"An' then ye see, sir," she pursued, "if ye turn yer foot over an' can't walk, ye have to go to bed a spell, huh?"
"Well, I should say so!" asseverated Burnett, mustering the manner he always used with ladies. "Say, by George, I didn't know Orn Skinner had a pretty kid like you."
"My, didn't ye?" gurgled Tess, with shy lids drooping and her color mounting. "I thought everybody in the hull world knew I were Daddy's brat. He air had me fer ever so long. I been growed up for a lot of years." She shifted the owl in her arms. "This owl air named Deacon....
Want to pet 'im a minute, huh?"
The warden threw back his head and roared. He felt as if he'd been hung up for days by the thumbs--that this girl had mercifully cut the ropes and let him down once more to peace and happiness.
"No, thanks, I'll let you keep your pet," he laughed good-humoredly.
"Queer play fellow for a girl, that's my opinion."
After a few more compliments, through which Tessibel flirted her way into the big man's regard, the officer rose to his feet.
"Little lady, I came here for a specific reason," he announced.
Unquenchable mischief shone upon him from smiling, enquiring eyes.
"Oh," giggled Tess, "anyway, I air awful glad ye come."
The grim lips of the deputy curled upward again. Tess adored his mouth twisted at the corners like that.
"I might as well get it over first as last," ventured Burnett. "But I'm more'n anxious you shouldn't be mad at me. The fact is we've traced a man down from Auburn--"
Tessibel interrupted him, startled; at least she acted so.
"From Auburn!" she gasped.
"Yes, ma'am, a murderer! Andy Bishop. Little man like this," the warden explained, measuring a short space from the floor. "By some means or other he wriggled his way out of prison--"
Tessibel's lips trembled and she turned her eyes away. Old memories rushed over her, memories of the cold winter when she'd been alone in the shack.
"An' ye thought 'cause Daddy'd been up there once, the man must a run right straight here, huh?" she accused, with a sob in her voice.
"Well, I'll admit till I saw you I thought--I thought, but now--," a negative gesture with his hand finished his answer.
Tessibel turned withering, tear-wet eyes on her visitor.
"I 'spose ye air thinkin' my Daddy even had something to do with his flyin' the coop?" she flared up. "Air that it?"
"No! No! I didn't think that at all," the under-warden made haste to deny. "I just couldn't think that about _your_ father."
Tessibel dimpled, suddenly glowing like a vivid poppy.
"Thank ye," she whispered, wiping away the tears. "Why! My Daddy wouldn't do nothin' bad for anythin' in the world. He's the best old Daddy livin'."
"Of course he is," vouched the warden, placatingly, "but what I want to know is would you mind, or would it hurt your feelings--The fact is, I came to search this house."
Tess had expected this, and without demurring, flashed forth,
"Ye mean ye want to go 'round it, don't ye, lookin' in all the corners an' places; air that it, sir?"
Burnett acknowledged this by a nod.
"Sure, search it if ye want to, I don't mind. Ye'll 'scuse me not gettin' up, won't ye? There ain't much to search, but ye can go in the garret if ye want to. It air only a cubby hole; even the weest man in the hull world couldn't stand up in it."
Andy stirred perceptibly beneath her.
"Then there air Daddy's room," Tess continued, "an' this room air the kitchen an' the dinin' room an' the parlor, an' all the other rooms....
An'--an' it air my room, too."