"I don't want 'em to git me," he whimpered disconsolately. "Ye won't let 'em git me, will ye, Orn?... Will ye, kid?"
Tess cheered the dwarf's despairing mood by a reassuring smile and confident nods of the shining curls.
"Nope," she promptly promised.
And, "Nope," repeated Orn, grimly. "Git back under the bed, now, old man. Any minute Sandy might be comin' in. Ye can't depend on that squatter. He'd steal the pennies off'n his dead mammy's eyes."
As was her habit when thinking, Tess threaded her fingers through several red curls, while her eyes followed Andy Bishop crawling feet first under her cot.
"I bet ye didn't do nothin' wicked, ye poor little shaver," she remarked.
"Bet I didn't do no Waldstricker murder," answered the dwarf.
"I know where I can hide 'im," she then said, with a satisfied smile.
"I'll fix up the garret fer 'im. 'Tain't very big, but no one but me ever goes up there. You, there, under the bed, ye ain't 'fraid of bats or owls, air ye?"
"Nope," came forth a sweet voice. "I ain't 'fraid of nothin' nor nobody but Ed Waldstricker and Sandy Letts."
Tess giggled in glee.
"Well, they nuther one of 'em gits in my garret if I see 'em first,"
said she, "an' the owls air as tame as cats, an' 'll be company when ye're lonely nights. Deacon air the speckled one an' he loves every inch of Daddy an' me. If ye're good to 'im, he'll love you, too, Andy."
Turning to her father, "The person what'll help Andy air Professor Young, I bet."
Daddy Skinner's face fell perceptibly, and two long lines marked off the sides of his nose.
"Who's he?" came from under the bed in a stifled breath.
"He air a awful nice man," explained Tess. "He lives in Graves' old place on the hill, an' he learns me new things out of books every day.... His sister's teachin' me to sew, too. I told ye she air goin' to marry--"
"Tessibel," interrupted Skinner, gravely fearful. "Ye said jest now Waldstricker were a goin' to marry Young's sister. That makes them two families kinda like one. Ye bet Young'd stand by his sister's man....
See?... Besides that, Young air a lawyer, an' if ye tell 'im about Andy, it'll sure be 'is duty to pinch 'im an' put 'im back where he were."
"He helped you once, Daddy!" the girl rebuked him.
"But I were in jail all the time, don't ye see the difference, brat?...
Till 'twere proved Ben Letts done the murder, I were kept in jail, too, an' they'll put Andy back if ye say anythin' to Young 'bout it."
"They sure will," came the dwarf's sobbing tones.
Tessibel sighed.
"Well, us uns'll have to keep our clacks shut 'bout 'is bein' here, then," she acquiesced, "an'--an'--Andy'll have to keep in the garret till the man in Auburn coughs up, that air all, huh?... He can come down sometimes when it air a rainin' hard or dark nights when there ain't nobody around, an'--an'--darlin', ye can offen chat with 'im when I air outside watchin' fer folks.... Now, can't ye, Daddy?"
The young speaker went close to her father, smiling. She wanted to chase that hunted look from his eyes, to make him feel a little more secure about his prison friend.
"Please don't be lookin' like that, sweety," she pleaded. "Ye're just like ye was goin' dead.... I tell ye nobody'll hurt the poor little feller in the garret.... I'll see to that.... I'll fix it up all comfy fer 'im."
With this idea of future protection for the little man, Tessibel began to reconstruct the shanty. Dark curtains were hung at the square little windows, for it was quite a daily occurrence for Sandy Letts to peek through them before entering the door. Tessibel didn't wish to shut out the sunshine and moonbeams, but then there was Andy Bishop to think of, and Andy already had a warmer place in the squatter girl's heart than even the sun or moon. Tessibel was beginning to love him, not only because he'd been a friend to Daddy, but on his own account, because he was a soul in torment and needed her.
It took quite three hours to arrange the garret for the dwarf's occupancy. There were many pieces of fishing tackle to be sorted and hung in the kitchen rafters. The nuts that had been spread out on the floor to dry, now had to be gathered in sacks and stored in the mud cellar. The cobwebs must come down, and a cotton tick filled with new, fresh straw to be put in the garret. It was about three o'clock when Tessibel ushered the little man up the ladder and displayed the clean attic.
"'Tain't high 'nough fer me to stand up in," she told him, "but ye'll get along all right, an' I air goin' to fix ye somethin' so ye can see to read.... Can ye read?"
"Sure, I can read." Andy's voice rang with pride. "My ma, she's dead now, she learned me how, she did!"
"Then I'll get ye lots of books," replied Tess, "an' ye'd best always keep hid less'n I let ye down, 'cause Sandy might catch onto yer bein'
here. Waldstricker's money'll set loose a lot of sneaks like him lookin'
fer ye!"
Late that afternoon the dwarf ate his first meal in the garret, and Tessibel and Orn Skinner ate theirs at the table, but the conversation of the father and daughter intermingled now and then with a soft statement or a question from above, and there was happiness in the Skinner hut.
As soon as they finished supper, Tess went to the foot of the ladder and called softly.
"I air goin' to tell ye somethin', Andy,--ye listenin'?"
"Yep, brat. Sure, I air listenin'."
"I air a goin' somewheres to find out somethin'," announced the girl mysteriously. "Mebbe when I get back I'll tell ye what ye'll like to hear.... Ye'll stay hid, won't ye?"
"Sure so," agreed Andy.
After bending to kiss her father affectionately, the girl said to him,
"Now, Daddy, I air goin' out a little while, an' you two be awful careful how loud ye talk.... Somebody might hear ye!"
And for a short moment after the girl had gone there was silence in the shack. Then a prolonged sigh drifted from the garret.
"My God, Orn, but she air a fine young thing fer ye to be fatherin', huh? Ain't she?"
Andy's voice, though but little more than a whisper, expressed his wonder and admiration.
"God's best," muttered Orn, and once more they lapsed into the companionable silence of good friends.
CHAPTER III
TESSIBEL MEETS WALDSTRICKER
The shanty door closed behind Tessibel, and her hand still on the knob, she hesitated a moment before starting for Mother Moll's. The girl had kept her promise of the year before, for every week she had caught and cleaned a mess of fish and carried them up the ravine to the woman's shanty. But today, Tess wanted to consult the seeress about Andy. She believed implicitly in the fortune-pot. Hadn't the old, old hag told her, long ago, when Daddy Skinner was in prison, that the state couldn't hurt him, and other things, too?
Turning into the lane up the hill, she met Sandy Letts carrying his drag and a great coil of rope.
"Hello, kid," he greeted her. "How air yer Daddy?"
He eased his load to the ground and straightened up, slowly stretched his mighty arms, and shrugged the stiffness out of his powerful shoulders. Sandy and his burden filled most of the path.