Read CHAPTER XIII of The Secret of the Storm Country , free online book, by Grace Miller White, on ReadCentral.com.

SANDY PROPOSES TO TESS

Andy Bishop was stretched out in the middle of Tessibel’s straw tick, while the girl measured her length on the cot to assure her father that the dwarf would be fully concealed from prying eyes.

“Does he seem all hid, Daddy Skinner?” queried she.

The squatter walked to the head of the cot and peered from all points of vantage.

“He sure air, kid,” he chuckled. “I can’t see nothin’ but a row of red curls a mile long. Andy’ll git back in the garret all right if Burnett don’t pull you off’n that bed.”

“He won’t do that,” said Tess. “Jesus’ll see I stay on it, I bet.”

“There’s some un a comin’ now,” hissed Skinner between his teeth, startled. Tess had no more than cuddled under the blanket when a loud knock resounded throughout the shanty. Daddy Skinner lifted the bar and opened the door, his large form filling the narrow door-frame. At the sight of Sandy Letts’ smiling face, he stepped back, relieved.

“God, Sandy,” he grinned, “ye might as well kill a man as scare him to death. Come in an’ set.”

Lysander stepped into the kitchen, and his eyes fell upon Tess.

“What air the matter with the brat?” he asked, looking from Orn to the girl lying there so languidly.

“She air kind a hurt ” began the fisherman.

“My foot air all packed up in a rag,” interjected Tess. “I air always doin’ something to myself. The next time I come jumpin’ down the lane, I hope I won’t be hurtin’ my ankle.”

She smiled wanly at Sandy, and he grinned back at her.

“If I knowed ye was sick, Tess, I’d a brought ye some candy,” said he, good-naturedly.

“Candy ain’t good for a girl’s teeth,” sighed Tess. “Don’t never bother ‘bout bringin’ it, Sandy.”

“A pound or two won’t hurt ye,” asserted Letts. “An’ when I likes a girl, I allers bring ’er sweets. I say kid, ye do look awful pretty, layin’ there with your curls all stretched out that way. Now, my cousin Ben, he wanted to marry ye, too, but he never liked yer hair; I love it.”

“Daddy were jest a sayin’,” put in Tess, with a fleeting glance at her father, “that it air mighty good for my curls to get spread out like this. Wasn’t you, Daddy?”

Daddy Skinner stared at her, and her warm, glowing smile gave strength to the old man’s heart. Without waiting for his reply, Tess turned to Letts.

“Where ye been, Sandy, an’ what ye been doin’?” she asked, simulating an interest she did not feel.

Lysander, pleased at the attention, thrust his thumbs into the armholes of his vest and spread out all his fingers, giving a little important twist to each.

“I been down to Riker’s a searchin’ their shack fer Andy Bishop,” bragged he, “an’ now I air goin’ to Longman’s.”

A little groan fell from Tessibel’s lips.

“I air ashamed of ye, Sandy,” she said slowly. “Longmans wouldn’t have no murderer in their hut.... They be awful good folks.... Ye know they be, Sandy.”

“Sure I know it, Tessie, but I’ve said as how I air goin’ to search all the squatters’ huts an’ I air goin’ to do it, I can tell ye that.”

Tess smiled at him wistfully, pleadingly.

“I’d hate ye all my life, Sandy Letts,” she vowed, winking one eye at the burly squatter, “if ye’d come in my house and butt ’round. Course ye can do it if ye want to, but I’d never speak to ye again in the hull world.”

Sandy threw back his head and guffawed.

“I wouldn’t do nothin’ like that to you, pretty kid,” he answered with pride in his tones, “’cause I know if ye had that dwarf in this hut ye’d pass him up to me quick.... Five thousand ain’t to be got off’n every bush these days. I air after that Waldstricker reward, an’ I air goin’ to get it!”

Tess spread a little wider a few of the dusky, shining curls.

“It’s a lot o’ money,” she said thoughtfully.

Letts hitched his chair nearer the cot and bent over eagerly.

“Sure it air, Tessie,” he said, “an’ I air here today a purpose to tell ye somethin’. I want you an’ yer pa to listen wise to me fer a minute. I air goin’ to git that there five thousand an’ I air goin’ to marry you.”

Tess started to speak, but Lysander stopped her with a wag of his head and a wave of his hand.

“I said for ye to listen,” he cried brusquely. “Ye ain’t havin’ offers like mine every day, miss, an’ yer Daddy won’t never have no chances like I air givin’ ‘im. I said listen, an’ here air what I say.

“It won’t be more’n a week afore I hand that dwarf over to the warden. Burnett air comin’ down from Auburn. He air almost here by this time. Then when I git the money, I air a goin’ to put yer Daddy in a nice place where he’ll get rid of ‘is rheumatiz, an’ after that I air goin’ to fix my shack up with a lot of new stuff, an’ ye can have the choosin’ of it, brat, an’ there air my word, by God.”

Sandy gazed from father to daughter with a broad smile. He had delivered his speech in pompous pride, his voice rising higher and louder with each word.

“What do ye say, Orn?” he demanded.

Skinner looked at Tess out of the corner of his eye. He could see her lips moving ever so slightly, and he knew she was murmuring a prayer for the little man in the straw. His own eyes felt stinging tears around their lids.

“Ye’ll have to settle it with the brat,” said he at length, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “I’ve allers said ’s how if Tess wanted to git married, I wouldn’t say nothin’ ’gainst it, as long as she got a good man.”

“An’ I air that,” Sandy affirmed positively. “’Course I been in jail more’n fifty times, an’ mebbe I’ll git in fifty times more, but that don’t do a man no harm as I knows of. I’d allers leave a little money home for my fambly.”

He threw his bold, black eyes upon the little figure in the bed, and the girl dropped her lids.

“How about it, Tessie?” he wheedled in low tones.

Tess wriggled. She didn’t know just what answer to give. She wanted to keep the big squatter good-natured, yet desired that he should go away. She was sorry for the little man beneath her.

Prompted by instinct, she turned her solemn brown eyes upon Letts.

“I’ll say this to ye, Sandy,” she began. “If ye’ll let me alone, an’ not be tryin’ always to kiss me ”

Lysander cracked his knee with one large fist.

“I ain’t never got a kiss from ye yet, brat,” he chuckled.

“’Course not,” she responded; “but ’tain’t because ye ain’t fit fer one, now air it, Sandy?”

“No, ye can bet on that,” laughed the man, “an’ I got marks on my shins to this day you put on ’em the last time I tried it. But I like to see ye fight, brat, I swear I do.... Now, how about gettin’ married to me, huh?”

Tessibel contemplated the heavy face a moment. She was going to drive a hard bargain with Lysander if she had to drive any at all.

“Ben used to make me awful mad teasin’ for kisses,” she exclaimed. “I told him an’ I air tellin’ you, Sandy, I ain’t goin’ to give any man my kisses less’n I marry him.”

Letts puffed out his chest and struck it with a loud resounding whack.

“I air glad of that,” he grinned. “It sounds good to me, you bet. I don’t want no other man palaverin’ over my woman. I got ”

“An’ you been makin’ me mad lately, too, Sandy,” Tess interrupted, “what with runnin’ after me an’ makin’ me fight to keep my own kisses, I don’t have no peace. Now, I’ll tell ye what I’ll do. You get busy an’ find Andy Bishop, an’ git that five thousand, then ye come here again an’ ask me what ye just did, an’ ye see what I say to ye. Eh? How’d that suit ye?”

A scarlet flush rushed over Lett’s swarthy skin.

“But ye got to promise me ye won’t ever try fer no more kisses, till I git married to ye, Sandy,” Tess continued. “You said what you wanted; now, I’ve said somethin’, an’ I mean it too.”

Letts shifted one large boot along a crack in the floor. He was thinking deeply.

“That’s pretty tough on a feller when he air lovin’ a girl the way I love you, brat,” he said after a while.

“But ye got to promise what I want ye to, Sandy, or mebbe I’ll git married to some ’un else.”

“Ye’d better not, kid,” he muttered darkly, “if ye don’t want to git yerself an’ the other fellow into trouble.”

“Then ye’d best promise ’bout the kisses,” returned Tess, decidedly.

“I’d kiss ye now fer a two cent piece,” he undertoned passionately, but Daddy Skinner had his hand on the other man’s arm before he could move toward the cot.

“I wouldn’t do nothin’ like that, Sandy,” he said, ominously. “No man don’t kiss my brat less’n she air wantin’ his kisses. Tessibel said as how when ye git Bishop an’ the five thousand, ye can come back.... Today, she ain’t feelin’ well, an’ I air goin’ to ask ye to go along home, or wherever ye were pointed fer when ye stopped ’ere.”

Then Daddy Skinner opened the door.

“The leaves won’t be fallin’ from the trees, brat,” he flung back sulkily, “afore I come fer ye, an’ don’t forgit it!”

Daddy Skinner closed the door and dropped the bar after his departed guest, and there was silence in the shanty until the sound of Lysander’s footsteps faded away.

Then Tess crawled off the dwarf and stood up.

“Landy,” she groaned, “wouldn’t that crack yer ribs! Now I got to be prayin’ to beat the band every minute to keep Andy in the garret an’ to save me from bein’ married to the hatefullest old squatter devil in the hull world.”