"Just clear your pretty head of further worry, little kitten ... See?"
Madelene caught his hand affectionately in hers.
"Kiss me, best of good brothers," she smiled. "You've made me perfectly happy! Isn't it dreadful to have to keep tabs on one's husband?"
"You won't have to long," Waldstricker assured her.
Then he kissed her and followed his wife into the library. Mrs.
Waldstricker walked to the window and looked out, her eyes full of tears.
"Helen," said Ebenezer, gravely, taking her by the shoulders and turning her face toward him. "You displease me very much."
The drops hanging on the long lashes fell suddenly.
"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't see why you always antagonize Deforrest.
You remember how angry he was after that church affair."
"Your brother's anger doesn't affect me in the slightest," returned Ebenezer coldly. "When I see my duty to God, I do it, that's all."
"And you're really determined--Oh, Eb dear, for my sake, please--"
The husband made an impatient movement.
"Helen, how many times have I got to forbid your crying this way. You're always in tears. You'll make yourself sick."
"Lately you've been so cross to me," sobbed Helen, burying her face in her handkerchief.
Waldstricker put his arm about her.
"I don't want to be cross.... There!... Now lie down here on the divan.... I'm going out for an hour or two."
Then he put on his cap, took up his riding whip, and went away to the stables.
A few minutes later Helen Waldstricker sat up straight, and rang the bell. To the servant who appeared, she said,
"Find Mr. Graves and send him to me immediately."
When Frederick received the message, cold chills chased each other up and down his back. Dismayed, he desired to disobey but dared not, besides Helen was the least dangerous of the three. What could she want, he considered queruously. He hadn't had a minute's peace since he came home. Madelene was in a state of tears nearly all the time; his brother-in-law, dictatorial, difficult even in his milder moods, seemed secretive and suspicious. As far as he was concerned, he kept from the house as much as possible, but this only provoked to a greater degree his young wife's tears and complaints. Only this morning, he had been treated to a spell of hysterics the like of which Madelene had never before equalled.
His wife would not believe his oft-repeated assertions that he had not been to the Skinner cabin since the day she had surprised him there.
Frederick had spoken truly. His fear of his powerful brother-in-law and his own lack of moral courage allowed the days to drift along until now he felt he could not go into the presence of the girl he had thus neglected.
He watched until his brother-in-law drove from the stables and disappeared. Then he turned and went into the library. Helen beckoned to him to come near her.
"I must tell you something," she breathed.
She pointed to a chair near the divan. For a time she talked in an undertone, telling him something which sent the blood flying from the young man's face, and left him faint and sick at heart.
And later by an hour, Frederick Graves was walking the railroad tracks toward the Skinner shanty.
CHAPTER XXXII
HELEN'S MESSAGE
Tessibel Skinner was sitting in the shanty kitchen. She had a book in her lap but her mind was far from her surroundings. Andy had been quiet so long she'd almost forgotten him. Suddenly, his slight cough brought her back to the present.
"Ye look awful peeked, brat, dear," he said. "I think ye'd ought to see Young's doctor, hadn't ye?"
A vague smile crossed the girl's face, and she shook her head.
"No, Andy," she answered, "I don't need no doctor, yet."
"I wish ye felt better," sighed the dwarf. "An' the days is gettin'
awful blizzardy for ye to go outdoors."
"But I got to go out, dear, fer wood an' other things. Hark!" She got up swiftly. "There air some one comin'."
In another instant the little man had crawled away from the ceiling hole and was under the tick. The garret was as silent as the frozen lake and the kitchen below, where Tess stood in anxious expectation. Tessibel, knowing it couldn't be Sandy, put aside her first impulse not to heed the rap. An instant later, she opened the door. That it might be Frederick was farthest from her mind, until she saw him standing there so thin and tired. Surprised and shocked at seeing him, the stress of her feeling found her faint. She would have fallen if he had not suddenly seized her.
"Tessibel!... Tess, darling!" he cried, sharply. Lifting her up, he carried her into the room. She clung to him, crying, her confusion calmed by his caresses. He placed her in a chair and sat down beside her. Suddenly, she sat back in her seat, roused from her revery by mocking memories of her wrongs.
"Couldn't ye let me alone?" she breathed hoarsely, covering her face with her hands. "Ye might a let me be."
"I had to come, dear," Frederick told her. "I want you to do something for both our sakes.... Oh, Tess, what terrible days have passed since I saw you last!"
After a short pause, she dropped both hands and glanced up at him. Then knitting her fingers together, she pressed them hard until they looked like the veined stems of a pale flower. He had come to make another demand of her--and she was so tired--so sick!
"I want you to make me a promise, Tessibel," urged Frederick.
"I said as how I'd help ye all I could," murmured Tess. "Ye're wantin'
me to do somethin' awful hard, huh?"
Her soul in her eyes, she looked at him, but his gaze was on the gloves he was twisting back and forth between his fingers.
"Ain't ye goin' to tell me?" groaned Tess.
She dropped her chin into her hands with a touching gesture of pathos.
Frederick bent nearer.
"Tess, Mrs. Waldstricker sent me with a message--and you've got to do what I want you to."
His strangely persistent reiteration that she should do his will served only to produce another, "Why don't ye tell me, then?" from Tess.
"You must do something to save yourself!" he cried.