The Secret of the Storm Country | Page 8

or a question from above, and there was happiness in the
Skinner hut.
As soon as they finished supper, Tess went to the foot of the ladder and
called softly.
"I air goin' to tell ye somethin', Andy,--ye listenin'?"
"Yep, brat. Sure, I air listenin'."
"I air a goin' somewheres to find out somethin'," announced the girl
mysteriously. "Mebbe when I get back I'll tell ye what ye'll like to
hear.... Ye'll stay hid, won't ye?"
"Sure so," agreed Andy.
After bending to kiss her father affectionately, the girl said to him,
"Now, Daddy, I air goin' out a little while, an' you two be awful careful
how loud ye talk.... Somebody might hear ye!"
And for a short moment after the girl had gone there was silence in the
shack. Then a prolonged sigh drifted from the garret.
"My God, Orn, but she air a fine young thing fer ye to be fatherin', huh?

Ain't she?"
Andy's voice, though but little more than a whisper, expressed his
wonder and admiration.
"God's best," muttered Orn, and once more they lapsed into the
companionable silence of good friends.
CHAPTER III
TESSIBEL MEETS WALDSTRICKER
The shanty door closed behind Tessibel, and her hand still on the knob,
she hesitated a moment before starting for Mother Moll's. The girl had
kept her promise of the year before, for every week she had caught and
cleaned a mess of fish and carried them up the ravine to the woman's
shanty. But today, Tess wanted to consult the seeress about Andy. She
believed implicitly in the fortune-pot. Hadn't the old, old hag told her,
long ago, when Daddy Skinner was in prison, that the state couldn't
hurt him, and other things, too?
Turning into the lane up the hill, she met Sandy Letts carrying his drag
and a great coil of rope.
"Hello, kid," he greeted her. "How air yer Daddy?"
He eased his load to the ground and straightened up, slowly stretched
his mighty arms, and shrugged the stiffness out of his powerful
shoulders. Sandy and his burden filled most of the path.
Tess, desiring to avoid contact with him, stopped a few paces away.
"Daddy ain't so well these days, Sandy," she answered. "His heart hurts
'im."
"Ain't that too bad?" the man sympathized. "But, then, brat, yer daddy
ain't so young as he were once. Reckon he air not long fer this world.
When yer Daddy croaks, what'll you do, Tess? Ye'll need a home. Ye

ought to be gettin' a man."
The squatter'd stepped forward directly in front of her while he was
urging his suit.
"My daddy ain't old an' he ain't goin' to die, uther," flared Tess, an
angry light in her brown eyes. Oh, how she loathed and hated this
fellow who blocked her way! "You shan't say such things about my
daddy! I don't want any man but 'im." Noting his unshaven cheeks,
loose hanging lips, the lips and his large irregular teeth discolored with
tobacco, the girl drew back with a gesture of instinctive repulsion. "I
wouldn't take you anyway."
Instead of answering her, the squatter placed his great hands upon her
shoulders, and holding her thus at arm's length, looked down at her.
Her straight young figure, glowing face, and flaming eyes under the
ruddy aureole of her hair made a picture of grace, beauty and passion
that would have fascinated a more fastidious observer than Sandy Letts.
"God, girl, but ye air a beauty!" he cried, enraptured.
Tessibel's struggles to get away from the grip of the heavy hands
aroused the evil passions of the man's nature into insistent activity.
"Here, brat, give yer man a kiss," he commanded, and at the words, his
hands slipped from her shoulders, and his strong arms began to close
around her body. His face was so close she had to force her hand in
between his lips and hers. Then she made a desperate struggle. Rearing
the red head backward, she succeeded only in freeing herself partially.
"You let me go, you Sandy!" she cried out sharply. "I'll tell my Daddy
on you. Let me go!"
Then she went at him, kicking his shins with her feet, poking him with
her knees, and gouging his eyes and digging his face with her nails. As
well might Sandy try to make love to a cornered wildcat. He threw her
from him, and Tess, springing up, uninjured, raced up the hill. Sandy's
words, broken by fierce oaths, overtook her,

"You just wait! I'll tame ye yet, ye devilish brat, ye!"
At the top of the lane, Tess stopped to get breath. The familiar sounds
of the early summer evening assailed her ears. The narrow lake shone
in the clear light of the dying day like a broad strip of silver set in