her pastor stood by her side,
hand uplifted, waiting.

Then over Ebenezer's countenance flashed a look of self-righteous
fanaticism, which made large the pupils of his dark eyes and inflamed
his swarthy skin deepest crimson. He strode to the stove, picked from
the scuttle a ragged chunk of coal, and when he turned again, he had
changed from red to white. Crazed, he took two steps toward the kneeling
girl.

"I can cast the first stone," he said swiftly.

He lifted his arm and before any man could stay his hand, something
whirled through the intervening space and struck the kneeling squatter
girl. High pandemonium broke loose. Voices, some censorious, some
approving, contended.

"I have first cast a stone at her," cried Waldstricker, above the din.
"Let others follow if they dare!"

Tessibel crouched lower to the floor, a bleeding wound in her neck. She
had made no outcry when the missile met and lacerated her flesh. Dully,
she wondered if they intended to kill her, and for a moment a sickening
dread took possession of her when she thought of Daddy and Andy. She was
growing faint and dizzy, but struggled to her feet as Griggs took her
arm. He led her through the Chapel aisle, pushing aside the other men.
At the door, Tess caught one glimpse of Sandy Letts' dark, passionate
face.

"Go home," the minister said hoarsely; "and may God forgive us all."

* * * * *

How Tessibel found her way home, she could never afterwards tell. Spent
by the struggle with the storm, she staggered into the shanty. It took
almost the last atom of her strength to close the door against the
howling blizzard. Leaning against the wall, she looked up and saw Andy
staring at her from the hole in ceiling, his fingers on his lips.

"It were awful cold under the bed," he told her. "Yer Daddy air asleep,
so I came up here to keep warm!"

When he noticed the girl's unusual appearance, he scurried down the
ladder, waddled across the kitchen, and stood in front of his friend.

"What air the matter, brat?" he quivered.

Solicitous, he helped her into a chair near the fire and took off her
hat and coat. The blood from the neck wound had made crimson blotches on
her white waist.

"Ye're hurt, honey," he cried, alarmed. "How'd it happen?"

"I air hurt a little," said she, faintly. "Fetch me some water, dear,
an' don't--don't tell Daddy!"

"Get on the cot, kid," said he, "an' I'll put up the bar."

In another m