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Deep groans came between the kisses he thrust upon her.

A moment later the sound of advancing steps lifted Frederick's face from hers. Muttering an oath, he threw Tess forcibly from him, for there in the path was Ebenezer Waldstricker, about whose sagging lips played a supercilious smile.

"So I was not mistaken," he sneered, looking his brother-in-law full in the face. "If Madelene doesn't care, I do."

"Well?" growled Frederick. "You've found me here, now do what you cursed want to, I don't care."

"Perhaps you'll care before I finish," said the elder grimly, and he included the girl in his baleful glare. "I think you both will."

Tessibel's mind flew to Boy. What could these two men do to her darling?

She went forward toward Waldstricker, her eyes raised appealingly to his.

"Won't you make Mr.... Mr. Graves keep away?" she petitioned. "I don't want him here."

"Yes, it looked, when I came around the corner, as if you didn't want him, miss," scoffed the elder. Then he laughed, and the laugh cut the throbbing girl to the quick. "Very much as if you wanted him to go....

Now, then, sir, what's this girl to you?"

"I'm nothing to him, Mr. Waldstricker," she asserted, without giving Frederick a chance to speak.

Graves still felt that maddening passion, that demand for his own.

"She lies," he said in low tones.

Tess turned to him passionately.

"You know what I say is true. You came here without my desiring it! I don't want anything to do with you.... Haven't you both harmed me enough?... Do I ever come around and hurt you?... Why don't you tell the truth?"

"All right," he shouted, his irritation at her resistance overcoming his fear of the elder. "If you want the truth, here it is. I'm----"

"Don't! Don't!" screamed Tess.

"Ah!" hissed Waldstricker's lips like a jet of steam.

He'd caught within his powerful net the girl he wanted. He'd bring to light the secret that'd preyed upon his sister's spirits so long. For the squatter girl he felt no pity, for Frederick only contempt. They were both weaklings that he'd sweep away in his pursuit of Young and the squatters.

"He's sick," said Tessibel, trying to discount Frederick's confession.

"Your brother-in-law's sick. You can see that!... He thinks ... why, he's mad!"

"I'm not mad!" Frederick turned upon her fiercely, then back to the big man whose eagerness bent him forward. "I'm the father of her boy."

The blood left Waldstricker's face, so that it looked like carved marble.

"So 'tis so," he got out, "and you admit it, you cur, and you dared to marry my sister? Now, as God lets me live, you'll both suffer for this, and as for you, Tessibel Skinner, look out for that bastard of yours!"

The squatter girl uttered a heart-broken cry, and turning, fled around the rocks into the lane and up the hill.

CHAPTER XLII

A MAN'S ARM AT THE WINDOW

It seemed to Tess that her feet were leaden, as if she could never traverse the distance between the ragged rocks and the house. The interview with Frederick had been a terrible ordeal, and she was sick with disgust from his odious kisses. Waldstricker's untimely appearance and his stinging taunts hurt and frightened her. She knew he would do his worst and that Frederick wouldn't or couldn't help it. The desire to get Boy into her arms, to keep him from the men below urged her on.

Wildly, she fled through the orchard, crying as she went.

"Boy! Mummy's Boy! Where's Mummy's Boy?"

Gasping for breath, her voice ejected the words explosively. Exhausted, she sank upon the top step of the porch. The long run up the hill had been almost too much, but in a moment, she lifted herself, still calling and panting, and stumbled into the house.

"He's upstairs with Andy," said Young, looking up from his book. Then, alarmed by her appearance, he jumped up and hurried to her. "What's the matter, Tess? Tell me."

"Where's the baby?" she demanded hysterically, clinging to him.... "Tell me where my baby is."

Drawing her into an easy chair, Deforrest attempted to quiet her.

"Boy's upstairs with Andy. Hush, hush, child! Don't cry like that!...

Oh, my little girl!... What is it?... What's happened? Tell me ...

quick!"

But Tess couldn't speak. She only clung to his arms, trying to stifle her gasping cries.

Just then Boy's clear laugh came pealing down the stairway, a conclusive comfort to his mother's heart. When her extreme agitation had subsided.

Professor Young sat down and called her to him. As of old, when first he had heard her lessons in his home, she dropped at his feet, resting her curly head against his knee.

"Now I want to know what's frightened you," said he, softly.

The girl made a gesture of refusal. "I can't tell it," she replied, under her breath. "It's too terrible! It's too awful!"

"There's nothing too terrible for me to know," answered Young. "What happened while you were out?"

"Don't ask me to tell you, Uncle Forrie," pleaded Tess. "I can't! I can't!"

"Tessibel," demanded the lawyer, "was it Sandy Letts?"

"Oh, no, no, not him!"

The man pondered a moment.

"Was it--"

"Please don't ask me any more questions." She lifted a crimson face. "I was foolish, I suppose, but I thought, I thought the baby--"

"Some one threatened Boy! Was that it, Tessibel?" he cross-questioned.

"Yes." The murmured answer was scarcely audible.

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