"Look that over!" he said and handed it to the lawyer.
Professor Young took the paper, and before reading it, looked reassuringly at Tess with that wide, white-toothed smile of his that always cheered her heart.
"Sit down," he told her. "You do look tired, child."
With one swift glance at Waldstricker's face, she obeyed him.
Deforrest merely glanced at the paper in his hand.
"Oh, is that all you have?" he asked the constable.
"Yes, sir," the officer replied obsequiously.
"You're sure you haven't anything else?"
"Quite sure, sir," was the answer.
"That being the case," said Deforrest, quietly, "I'll match it with--with this."
He drew from his pocket another paper which he tendered the officer.
After the man scanned it, he handed it without a word to Waldstricker.
The elder in his turn read it through. It was an order from the court recalling the warrant obtained by Ebenezer Waldstricker for Tessibel Skinner's arrest. The constable grinned sheepishly at Waldstricker.
"I guess that ends my usefulness here," he said, smiling admiringly at Professor Young. "Good afternoon, miss! Goodday, gentlemen!"
Waldstricker, murder in his heart, took one stride toward Young, as the door closed behind the departing man.
"How'd you find out this was to happen today?" he gritted through his teeth. "I insist upon knowing."
"A little bird told me," grinned Professor Young. Then, glancing at Tess, and seeing how white she was, there rose within him a righteous indignation, and he went on, "You might employ your time to better advantage than torturing--"
For a moment he didn't know what to call Tessibel. She was no longer a child, no longer a little girl, although she looked deplorably young and sick as she sat huddled in the chair.
"Tormenting women," he finished, sharply. "And, Ebenezer, unless you want to make an enemy of me, you better let Tess alone. You can't do anything to harm her, for I won't let you. I may as well tell you, too, that the day after her father's death I constituted myself her guardian, and I'll move Heaven and earth to prevent any one harming her. Just remember that when you plot against her next time.... Now go home and forget there are such people as squatters.... You'll be happier, and so will I."
"Deforrest," Waldstricker appealed, changing his belligerent tactics, "if you keep this thing up, you'll rue it! You know very well Bishop is hidden somewhere in this squatter settlement. I can only get him by rooting his people out one by one; if you'll have that court order rescinded and let me send the girl away, I'll make it possible for you to run for Governor next fall."
For one minute, the lawyer surveyed Waldstricker critically. He reached one hand toward Tess. She got to her feet, grasping his fingers with hers.
"Ebenezer," Young said with great deliberation, "if I crawled across this girl's body into the Governor's chair, I'd be the basest cur alive.
And furthermore, you promise too much! You can't deliver the goods!
What! _You_ name the next Governor! Why you can't even remove this little squatter girl from her lonely hut!"
Waldstricker shrank from the scorn in his brother-in-law's voice, opened the door and strode out.
"Tess," Deforrest said, putting an arm around her, "when are you going to let me take you away from such things as this? I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't come today, and I've got to go away again."
Tess smiled up at the big man. Drawing herself erect and lifting her head proudly, she looked into his face, exultantly, full of buoyant joy at the tremendous proof of Love's protecting power in the hour of her great need.
"I jest knowed old Eb couldn't get me," she asserted. "Jesus sent ye jest in the nick of time, didn't he, huh?"
"But, my dear, listen," Young argued, his love making him apprehensive.
"It's awful for you to be here alone and unprotected. Let me take you away somewhere."
"I ain't alone," Tess insisted confidently, serene courage resounded in the sweet voice. "Jesus air here an' He keeps me safe all the time. He got Daddy out of Auburn an' kept Andy an' me in the shanty. Why, He sent you today. I know He won't let nothin' bad happen to me."
Untroubled, the brave eyes looked into his, conveying a message of courage and perfect peace that somehow uplifted the man's anxious thought to catch a glimpse of her exalted faith.
"But you know, Tess," he continued, "you are not so well this winter and you ought to have some one here to look after you."
Tess shook her head, the bronze curls twisting and falling over her shoulders and upon the arms embracing her.
"No, siree," she answered. "I can't have any one here, on 'count of Andy. Oh, ye mustn't worry 'bout me. I air all right an' will be every minute."
"At least, dear," Deforrest insisted, "let me get a doctor and nurse when--when--"
The brilliant head suddenly bowed itself forward against Young's rough coat. For a moment, her high courage faltered, but not for long. Surely, the same power that had cared for her today would see her through this other trial.
"Nope, not any doctor or nurse," she refused. "I'll have Mother Moll.
She knows what to do an' she air safe."
Withdrawing herself from Young's arms, she took his hand and kissed it.
"God sure air good to Tessibel," she murmured.
A moment they stood there. Then the lawyer took up his hat and turned to the door.
"You know, Tess, I love you and want to help you always."
In the doorway, he paused and with bared head heard the girl's parting speech.
"Sure, ye're lovin' me an' I air lovin' you, too. I know Mr. Young, love air here an' everywhere the hull time."
CHAPTER XXXV
BOY SKINNER
A pale winter moon nestled among the snow clouds in the storm country.
The shacks of the squatter settlement were dark and silent, save for a slender little light glimmering from the side of the curtains of the Skinner shanty. Inside, all was quiet. The squatter girl had been in the valley of shadows, and had struggled back from its depths, bringing with her that miracle of miracles, a son, a little son not much bigger than the hand of a man; and, now, pillowed on her arm, very near her heart, lay a small head, a baby's head, covered with soft, damp curls.
Mother Moll had come and gone. When the old, old woman had looked down upon the girl, she'd smiled that senile smile of age that split her lips like a knife cut.
"Ha! So it air another brat comin' to the shanty," she shrilled. "Holy Mary! It air the way of the world, the way of woman."
And now she'd gone, leaving the boy baby under the coverlet with Tessibel.