atened, infuriated.

"I won't!" reiterated Tess, raising her head. "I can't."

Madelene's sad, tearful face flashed through Waldstricker's mind with
the suspicions she had aroused against Frederick. Like an angry horse,
his nostrils lifted and sniffed the air. Fury against this girl rode in
his heart.

"You needn't tell us the man's name," he taunted triumphantly. "We
already know it."

Up struggled Tess to her feet and thrust back the tawny curls
feverishly. If they knew, then Frederick had told them.

"And you've got to marry him," Waldstricker's hoarse voice came to her
ears.

Why, she was married to him!... that long ago night. If he had told them
anything, why had he not told them all? She dared not look around, but
waited breathlessly.

"We've decided," Ebenezer proceeded, "that if you consent to our plans,
you will suffer no further disgrace. You can go away with your husband
and have your home--"

Tess grew dizzy ... this time with joy. She had been given back her
husband, her Frederick! Waldstricker had used the word "home." A home
with--with--His voice broke in upon her dreams brusquely, creating
grotesque figures in her brain. What was he saying? She turned dilating
eyes toward him.

"Lysander Letts! Lysander Letts!" Waldstricker shouted again.

The door at the side of the pulpit swung open and Sandy slouched in and
came forward.

"Here's your woman," the elder continued, looking from Tess to the
squatter. "Take her, and may God forgive you both for the sin you've
committed."

Tess stood rigidly waiting. She didn't turn her head toward the oncoming
man; rather she centered a prolonged gaze upon her persecutor. When she
felt some one pause at her side, she moved away, still without speaking.

"Parson Griggs, marry the man and woman," roared Waldstricker.

Excitedly he tossed the damp hair from his forehead, his cheek muscles
working involuntarily. His scheme was near its fruition. Tessibel
Skinner was almost married. Already Ebenezer could see, in his mind's
eye, how happy Madelene would be when he brought her the news.

The big, dark-faced squatter was standing beside the red-headed girl,
and Silander Griggs was hurriedly hunting through a book for the
marriage ceremony.

"Make it short," gritted Waldstricker to the minister.

Tess stood as if she had died standing, her face devoid of blood even to
the lips. Misery, deep and unutterable, rested upon the white face. When
she raised her e