“Can you tell me,” his agitation did not allow him to speak calmly,—­“can you tell me, please, where Lon Cronk lives?”

Although his question was low and broken, Scraggy caught each word.

“Down to the edge of the lake, Mister,” she replied.  “It’s a goin’ to be a dark night to be out in, ain’t it?”

In his relief, Brimbecomb drew a long breath.  She had not recognized him!  The dim light of the candle showed him that the same dazed expression still remained in her faded eyes.  The smirk on her face, the crouch of her emaciated figure, about which the rags swirled in the wind, the dismal hut, and the loneliness of her surroundings, made such a picture of woe that Everett shuddered and hastened to get the information, that he might hurry away from the awful place.

“Is there a scow down there that belongs to—­”

“That there scow belongs to Lem Crabbe,” broke in Scraggy.  “Yep, it comed in this mornin’.  Lem be a good man, a fine man, the bestest man ye ever see.”

Brimbecomb took some money from his pocket and, placing it in her fingers, hurried away.

* * * * *

Fledra heard Everett when he came to Lon’s shanty door and knocked.  She heard the squatter call him by name.  She knew now that the only hope for Ann’s love for Brimbecomb was that Lem would keep his word and insist upon Lon’s holding faith with him.

Cronk ordered her roughly to come to him.  When she appeared, the two men looked at her keenly.  As she evinced no surprise at his presence, the lawyer knew that she had been told of his coming.  He made an attempt to take her hand; but, as once before, Fledra flung her arms behind her.

“I ’low as she don’t like ye, young feller,” said Lon, with a laugh.

“Does it matter to you, Cronk?” retorted Brimbecomb.

“Not a damned bit!”

“Then go and make your arrangements with your one-armed friend and leave your daughter here with me.”

“Ye be in too big a hurry, my fine buck!  Lem ain’t as willin’ as I be; but I’ll jest go down to the scow and speak with him.”

“I want to go with you, Pappy Lon,” cried Fledra.

“Ye stay right here, gal,” commanded Cronk.  Full in her face he slammed the door and left her alone with Brimbecomb.

Everett stood looking at her for fully a minute, and as steadily she eyed him back.

“I have come for you,” he said quietly.  “I could not leave you with these persons.”

Fledra curled her lip scornfully.

“I lived with them a long time before I saw any of you folks,” she said bitterly.

The girl did not reason now.  She knew that she must send him back, that this was her only way to repay the woman who had saved her brother.  So she went up to Brimbecomb appealingly, her eager eyes gleaming into his.

“I want you to go back to Tarrytown,” she said, “and go to Shellingtons’, and see Sister Ann.  She’s dying to have you back.  And you belong to her, because you promised her, and she promised you.  Will you go back?”