“Floyd,” he said huskily, “Floyd, if I tell you something, will you keep it from my sister and yours?”

“Yes,” murmured Flukey.

“I love Fledra, and want to make her my wife.  Does that help you any, to know that I shall always watch her and care for her?”

Flukey searched the earnest face bent over him.

“Ye love her?”

“Very much, very much indeed.  But she is young yet—­only a little girl.”

“Did ye tell her that ye loved her?”

“Yes.”

“Did she say she loved you?”

“Yes.”

Flukey groaned.

“Then it’s something else than that, because I’ve known for a long time that Flea loved ye.  What’s the matter?  What’s the matter with ye both?”

“Floyd, when I tell you that I do not know,” answered Horace, “will you believe me?”

“Did ye want her to tell ye somethin’—­something that’ll keep ye from takin’ her now?” Horace’s silence drew an outpouring from Flukey.  “And I suppose she said she wouldn’t—­and ye won’t take her unless she tells ye.  Then ye’ll never get her; for, when Flea says she won’t, she won’t, if she dies for it!  Ain’t ye lovin’ her well enough to take her, anyway?”

Horace answered warmly, “Yes, of course, I am!”

* * * * *

By the dawn of day Floyd had become so much worse that a trained nurse was placed at his side, and the physician’s verdict, that the boy might die at any moment, overshadowed the threats of the squatter father.

* * * * *

Lon Cronk had come alone to Everett’s office on the hour set.  Brimbecomb wondered vaguely where the other man was, and what was his concern in the affair.

After greeting Lon coldly, the young lawyer said: 

“I should like to know about your life, Mr. Cronk, how long your children have been away from you, and all about it.”

“They’ve been gone since September,” replied Lon.  “They runned away from hum, and I ain’t seed ’em till I found out that they was at Shellington’s.”

“And how did you discover them?”

“Saw Flea goin’ up the steps,” lied Cronk.  “I knowed her the minute I see her, in spite of her pretty clothes.”

“Then you applied to Mr. Shellington for them?”

“Yep.”

“And he refused to deliver them up?”

“Yep—­damn him!  But I’ll take ’em, anyway.”

“Don’t say that outside my office,” warned Everett.  “The law does not want to be threatened.”

Lon remained silent.

“We’ll have to deal with Mr. Shellington very carefully,” cautioned the lawyer; “for he is proud and stubborn, and has a great liking for your children.  In fact, I think he is quite in love with the girl.”

Lon started to his feet, his swart face paling.

“He won’t git her!” he muttered.  “I’ve got plans for that gal, and I ain’t goin’ have no young buck kickin’ ’em over, I kin tell ye that!”