MADELENE COMPLAINS TO EBENEZER

“Read that letter; then you’ll see why I’m angry,” said Ebenezer Waldstricker to Helen one morning after he had frowningly perused a letter from Madelene. “Her last two have had a touch of this thing in them, too. If I find ”

He stopped because his wife had dropped her eyes and begun to read.

“Dear Eb:

“Your letters have come along one after another, but they haven’t made me feel happier. I do dislike to act as if I were telling tales; but I’m so miserable, and you’re the only one in the world I can call on in my distress. You will forgive me, I know, dear Ebenezer. We’ve been here now such a long time, that I really feel as if we ought to come home, but I simply dread it more and more I think of it.

“You can’t imagine how doleful Fred is, and I know it’s the Skinner girl who’s causing it.”

Helen uttered an anxious exclamation. She knew her husband’s dislike of the squatters. Her quick glance at his face called from his stern lips the cold question.

“Have you finished?”

“No.”

“Then do!” he snarled, opening and closing his hands impatiently.

“You may ask me what proof I have,” Helen read on, a slight pucker between her brows, “and I will say this: Fred has two or three times called me by her name, nearly dying of embarrassment when I asked him to account for it. Then once in his sleep he called out quite sharply, ‘Tessibel!’ He flies into all kinds of rages when I ask him questions about her. He won’t admit he’s ever cared anything for her ”

Helen looked up again and paused momentarily.

“Well, Ebenezer, he used to like Tessibel!”

Waldstricker waved his hand angrily.

“What’s past is past!” he roared. “And now he’s got to treat my sister decently, or I’ll know the reason why.... The young pup! Why, here I’ve given him the chance of his life!... But finish the letter!”

Helen sighed as she again allowed her eyes to rest on the page in her hand.

“But I feel sure his interest in her isn’t because of what she did for his sister,” Madelene’s letter continued. “Will you take some pains to find out all you can for me, Eb dear? It might be well for you to see her yourself, and perhaps you could make her admit something. I don’t want you to worry about me, though. If I can make Fred act like a human being, I’ll be happy enough. Tell Helen I shall bring her a lot of pretties from Paris, and will be awfully glad to see you both. Love to all.
Madelene.”

“P. S. Perhaps you can make that girl tell you whether she’s had a letter from Fred or not, and make her give it to you if you can. I think he’s written her, but he says not.”

“I’m very sorry about it,” Helen murmured. She laid the letter on the table and looked across at the dark-faced man opposite, “but really I don’t think Tess cares for him at all now. Deforrest has repeatedly said she never speaks of him, and that as far as he can make out, she has quite forgotten him.”

“I’ll make it my business to find out,” muttered Waldstricker. “If I discover she has any hold on that young ”

“They may just’ve been romantic,” excused Helen. “Why don’t you ask Deforrest to find out for you?”

Ebenezer shook his head.

“I’m going down first myself,” said he.

Helen rose and went to her husband’s side. Her eyes were misty with unshed tears. She so desired Ebenezer to be himself again. She felt a little rebellious when she considered Madelene’s turning her peaceful home into such a turmoil.

“You won’t be stern with her, dear?” she pleaded.

“I’ll treat her as she deserves,” snapped Waldstricker.... “If Deforrest weren’t so stubborn and hadn’t rented Graves’ place for the next four years, I’d do my best to oust the Skinners from that property.... One thing is certain, the old witch has got to go.”

Helen sighed, exasperated. Her husband’s face was crimson and the cords in his neck as rigid as taut ropes.

“Ebenezer dear, why will you get yourself into such a state of excitement over a set of people who’ll never come into your life at all?” she begged of him.

There was gentle reproof in her tones. Ebenezer glanced at her sharply.

“Never come into my life at all!” he repeated. “Does this look as if they never came into my life, eh?” He leaned over and tapped Madelene’s letter. “Am I going to see my sister ”

“Madelene is probably mistaken,” interjected Helen, hopefully.

“It’ll be better for the squatter girl if she is,” answered Ebenezer, whirling and going out.

Now it happened that Tessibel was standing outside the cottage clipping her hedge when she heard the sound of horses’ hoofs coming down the lane. She stepped to the shanty door, gave the sound which warned Andy of a stranger’s approach, and was back again when Waldstricker’s great black horse came in sight. Opposite her, he drew his steed to a standstill and bowed curtly. Tess had never seen his lips so sternly set, not even when he had dragged her from Mother Moll’s hut. She made no move to go to him.

“I came to speak to you, Miss Skinner,” he called. “Come here?”

Then Tessibel went a few steps nearer, without laying down her shears. Looking up into his face, she asked,

“What do ye want, Mr. Waldstricker?”

It was hard for Waldstricker to tell just what he did want when that pair of red-brown eyes were gazing at him.

“I think I’ll dismount,” he said suddenly.

Throwing one leg over the broad back of the horse, he slipped to the ground. The bridle over his arm, he walked toward the girl until she was standing but a step away.

“You haven’t any news of Bishop for me, I suppose?” he asked.

Tess grew suddenly intuitive. Immediately she knew he had not come to ask her about Andy. She shook her head, her tongue cleaving to the roof of her mouth.

“Have you done anything to locate him?” persisted Waldstricker.

He was feeling his way to bring in the other matter, and looking more closely at the girl, he reluctantly admitted to himself she was beautiful.

“My daddy’s been awful sick,” said Tess quickly. “I ain’t much time to do anything but take care of ‘im an’ sing in the church.”

Waldstricker was not interested in the sick squatter, so he gave no sign of sympathy. Rather, he wanted to come to the crucial point immediately, but Tess was so unapproachable that he remained quiet a few embarrassing moments to think of the right thing to say.

“You must be a little lonely now Mr. Graves is married,” he stated presently.

Tessibel grew deathly pale, and took one backward step. Had he come to talk of Frederick? Had he found out the secret she had kept religiously so many weeks?

“Mr. Graves?” she repeated, and then again in almost a whisper, “Mr. Graves?”

It was the first time in ever so long she’d pronounced that loved name aloud.

“Yes,” said Waldstricker, darkly, “and I came down today to see the letters you’ve received from him.”

Tess lifted her head and looked him straight in the eyes. Did he know she had had that one precious letter? Who’d told him about it? But she couldn’t give it to him, it was burned. Neither would she admit receiving it.

“What letters?” she asked, when she could speak.

“Those Mr. Graves sent you from France!” responded Waldstricker, in very decided tones.

Tess thought quickly. Frederick had told her he was afraid of Waldstricker. So was she! He was the man who had been instrumental in taking her husband away from her. She felt a cold rage growing into active life within her. How dared he come here.

She was looking at him so steadily that the powerful churchman lowered his eyes, and for a moment pretended to be arranging the horse’s bridle. Then, he centered his bold, black eyes upon her until her nerves tingled.

“I wish to see what he’s written you,” he repeated, this time rather lamely.

“I ain’t got any letters,” Tess told him.

“Haven’t you received any from him?” demanded Waldstricker.

The girl shook her head so decidedly that her curls vibrated to the very ends. It was as though every bit of her loving body would shield the dear one way off in France from this compelling, mesmeric man.

Waldstricker felt she was not telling the truth. He grew enraged, the blood flying purple to his face.

“I said I wanted you to give them to me,” he repeated emphatically, going nearer her.

“An’ I says as how I didn’t have none,” evaded Tess, growing angrier by the minute. “An’ if I did, I wouldn’t give ’em to you. ’Tain’t none of yer business if I get letters, I’ll have ye know!” She took several backward steps toward the shanty. Her rising temper stirred up the impudence she used in her conflicts with the rude fishermen. “Jump on yer horse an’ trot home,” she finished tauntingly.

Waldstricker’s mingled surprise and anger showed in his exclamation. What an impertinent little huzzy she was! In his heart he believed Madelene was right, but the defiant squatter girl baffled him. He would go home more than ever satisfied Tess Skinner was keeping from him something about his young brother-in-law. He mounted his horse, his muscles working with rage.

“I’ll make you confess sooner or later,” he muttered ominously, “or I’ll know the reason why.”

“Scoot!” was all Tess said, and she waved her hand and snapped the pruning shears together derisively.

Waldstricker whirled his horse up the lane, and striking the animal with a spur, bounded away.