at Skinner.

"Where air Tess?" he asked.

"She air up to Young's. He air learnin' her book stuff, an' his sister
air helpin' the brat sing. It air astonishin' how the brat takes to it.
Jest like a duck to water."

"Tess air awful smart," sighed Longman, "an' she air awful good, too.
She sings fer ma 'most every day. I heard her only yesterday, somethin'
'bout New Jerusylem. Ma loves Tessibel's singin'."

Then, for perhaps the space of three minutes, they lapsed into silence.
At length, Jake Brewer spoke,

"Be ye goin' to let her marry the Student Graves, Orn?" he asked.

"I dunno," Skinner muttered, "but I know this much, I don't like high
born pups like him hangin' 'round my girl. 'Tain't fittin' an' I told
Tess so!"

Orn knocked the ashes out of his pipe and rose slowly.

"Guess I'll be moseyin' 'long, pals," he smiled. "The brat'll be back
'fore long."

"Wait a minute, Orn," Longman broke in. "Ma's got some pork an' beans
she wants to send up to Mother Moll. She thought, mebbe, Tess'd take 'em
to 'er."

"Sure, 'Satisfied,' I'll take 'em home an' the brat'll take 'em up the
ravine next time she goes to the professor's."

"Mother Moll were the only one of us all," Jake told Skinner, while
Longman was in the shack, "what stood by Tess. She allers says Tess air
a goin' to surprise us all. She says as how the brat'll be rich an' have
a fine home. I dunno--but old Moll do tell the future right good when
she looks in the pot."

"She told the brat I were comin' home from Auburn," added Skinner, "when
it looked certain I were goin' to hang."

Longman came out of the shack with a pan in his hands.

"Yep," he corroborated. "An' she told ma years ago she'd lose her brats
in a storm. Old Moll air a wise woman, all right."

The dish of beans in his hand, the Bible-backed fisherman directed his
steps toward his own home, some distance away beyond the ragged rocks.

The old squatter walked slowly. His health had broken in prison and his
strength seemed hardly sufficient to move the big body. The path, an
outcropping ledge of the precipitous cliff, was very narrow because of
the unusually high level of the water in the lake. Picking his way
slowly, he considered reminiscently the events which had almost
destroyed him.

He recalled the long years of monotonous existence in the shack, the
hard nights pulling the nets and the varied scrapes Tess had tumbled
into. Then, suddenly, came the shooting of the game keeper