“Jest keep back there,” ordered Lon, “and don’t put on no guff with me!  Ye can do as ye please ‘bout goin’ away.  I won’t put out my hand to keep ye; only, remember, if ye go, what comes to the folks in Tarrytown!  Now, then, did ye hear what I said about Brimbecomb?” Fledra nodded, her eyelids quivering under his stare.  “Yer pretty enough to take the fancy of any man, Flea, and ye’ve took two, and it’s up to ’em both to fight over ye.  The man what pays most gits ye, that’s all.”

The girl lifted one hand dazedly.

“I’d rather go with Lem,” she muttered brokenly.

“It don’t make no matter to me what you’d ruther have.  Ye go where yer sent, and that’s all.”

Only Fledra’s sobs broke the silence of the next five minutes.  She dared not ask Lon Cronk any questions.

Presently, without warning, the man turned upon her.

“He’s a comin’ here tonight, mebbe.”

“Ye mean—­oh, Pappy Lon!  Let me go to Lem!  I’ll go, and I won’t say no word!...  I’ll go now!” She rose, her knees trembling.

“Sit down!” Lon commanded.

Used to obeying even his look, Fledra dropped back to the floor.

“It ain’t given to ye to go to Lem jest ’cause ye want to,” he said.  “As I says, that young feller is comin’ here tonight to talk with me and Lem.  I already told him, that he could take ye; but Lem hain’t yet give his word.”

Fledra glanced out of the window at the scow.  Lem was there, arranging the boat for her reception in his crude, homely way.  She was sure the scowman would not give her up.  The thought brought Ann more vividly into her mind.  If Everett came for her, and Lem held to his desire, Miss Shellington’s happiness would be assured.  The handsome young lawyer would return to Tarrytown, back to the woman who loved him.

Fledra rose with determination in her face.  Suddenly Lem had loomed before her as a friend.  She moved uneasily about the shanty, Lon making no move to stay her.  For awhile she worked aimlessly, with furtive glances at Cronk.

“Set down, Flea,” ordered Lon presently.  “Ye give me the twitches.  If ye can’t set still, crawl to bed till,” he glanced her over, as she paused to catch his words,—­“till one of yer young men’ll come to git ye.”

It was the chance Fledra had been longing for.  She backed from him through the opening of Granny Cronk’s room and closed the door.  For one minute she stood panting.  Then she walked to the window, threw back the small sash, and slipped through.  Once in the open air, she shot toward the scow, and in another moment had scurried up the gangplank and into the living-room.

When he saw her, Lem’s lips fell away from his pipe, and he rose slowly and awkwardly; but no shade of surrender softened the hard lines settled about the mouth of the panting girl.

“Lem,” she gasped, “has Pappy Lon said anything to ye about Mr. Brimbecomb?”