ere in the gully." She hesitated, pointing to Moll's shack.
"Sometimes she reads out of the fortune-pot fer me."

Waldstricker glanced first at the little hut, then back at Tess.

"You don't mean you have faith in witchcraft?" he ejaculated,
incredulously. "Why, girl, that's positively against the Bible
commandments."

"Air it? Well I swan!" She nodded her head as though digesting a new
idea. "Anyway, Mother Moll always tells me the truth. She can see things
comin' years and years."

Waldstricker contemplated the grave young face for an instant, noting
involuntarily the abundance and beauty of the wind-blown hair. He turned
about on the path.

"I shall go with you," he said.

Her desire to forbid the proposed visit, struggling with her awe of the
powerful man at her side, confused her. She couldn't think clearly. She
twisted her fingers into her red curls.

"I'd ruther ye wouldn't," she explained. "Ma Moll hates strangers
worser'n she does the old nick!"

Waldstricker ignored the girl's speech except that the frown deepened on
his brow.

"Nevertheless I'm going," he returned, sternly. "I can't realize that
God-fearing men and women have such iniquity among them. Come on; I'll
go with you!"

Tess would gladly have deferred her visit until another day, and
returned home, but she feared he'd follow her there. Here was a man of
whom she was heartily afraid, and as she dared not defy him, she
obediently walked across the gully bridge, and hurried along the path.

Then she paused, looking at Mother Moll's shack, snuggled in a jut in
the ravine. It was quite close now. Tess knew the witch was at home, for
a thin line of smoke drifted zig-zag from the toppling chimney.

She looked back and found Waldstricker eyeing her. She noted both
corners of his lips were down now.

"I came from Ithaca purposely to see you and your father," said he.

Tess was so startled she took two sudden steps backward.

"My daddy ain't very well!" she exclaimed, nervously. "He don't like
strange folks comin' around, Daddy don't."

Waldstricker shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"However, I must see him," he responded.

Tessibel felt a surging anger against this man. He had the same
imperious bearing she remembered in Dominie Graves.

"What fer? What d'ye want to see Daddy fer?" Her voice was compelling.

"About a matter that may make him a lot of money," the man explained,
pompously. "When may I come?"

She considered a mo