know
nothin'; but, Daddy Skinner, _you_ ought to be ashamed of yerself. Why,
he's the man what got ye out of jail! I couldn't a done nothin', an'
Professor Young couldn't a done nothin' uther if Jesus hadn't helped
him. An' now ye're saying, 'Holy thunderin' Moses,' just's if ye didn't
believe it."

The fisherman drew a shaking hand across his shaggy chin whiskers.

"I s'pose I do believe it, brat," he groaned, "but it air all so kind a
mysterious like, an' Young, ye know--Young fought like the devil to git
me back home."

"I know he did, Daddy," affirmed the girl, "but can't ye see ye'd a gone
to the rope if--"

A shrill cry broke from the dwarf, interrupting Tessibel's explanation.
Those ominous words recalled his own terror of Auburn Prison. Tears
gathered thick in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. The sight of the
little man's misery so affected Tessibel that she wound one arm about
his neck.

"Andy, darlin'," she comforted, "don't blubber like that. Don't I say!
There, put yer head on Tessibel's shoulder! I air a goin' to mother ye a
bit."

She took up her skirt, wiped away the dwarf's fast-falling tears, and
then her own.

"Now ye mustn't snivel," she faltered, trying to be courageous. "Why, if
ye keep it up, I don't know what Daddy an' me'll do. Listen, Andy,
listen to Tess."

Placing a slender finger under his chin, Tess drew the wry face up until
his tearful eyes were directed into hers.

"Andy," she imparted, "there ain't a deputy in this hull world can get
ye, an' don't ye be worryin' 'bout it. Jesus'd butt in an' help ye afore
the man could get his nippers on ye. He'll fix it so they can't get ye,
I bet."

And of a truth, Tessibel knew whereof she spoke.

"But Burnett'll be here most any time, now," shivered the little man,
his chest rising and falling with emotion, "an' I tell ye, Tess--" Here
he straightened up, his eyes glistening. "I tell ye, once let 'im git
after a house he thinks a feller air in an' he'd turn it topsy-turvy,
tissel end up. Why, Burnett can smell a man from prison a mile. I know
him, I do! Hain't I seen,--and you have too, Orn,--many a poor cuss get
away just like I did, mebbe over the river, mebbe a hundred miles or
two, or he might even git in another state, but Burnett'll haul him back
by his neck, jest the same."

Andy wilted at the end of his long speech like a hothouse plant in the
frost.

"But he ain't a goin' to git _you_, Andy dear," Tess interposed, huggin