losed to him on her
account."

Indignation at her husband's injustice burnt a red spot in Helen's
cheeks and kindled a flame of unusual animation in her placid blue eyes.

"You know better, Ebenezer," she retorted. "Forrie's given her a
father's care, and every one worth while honors him for it."

Frederick, kept in his attitude of tense attention by a sudden revival
of his jealousy of Young, sighed audibly and settled back in his chair.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Helen," he said earnestly.

"Oh, are you, Fred?" cried Madelene. "So your old interest in that girl
isn't dead, yet? Well, all I can say is, I am sorry she didn't get you,
but I'll bet she's glad, now, she didn't."

Waldstricker looked keenly from the speaker to her husband. But
Frederick had again put on his mask of apathetic indifference and
answered his wife's gibe only by a shrug of his shoulders. Noting her
brother's scowling face, she went on maliciously.

"You'd better keep away from the lake place, my dear husband, or you'll
have both Ebbie and Forrie after you."

"Will you have your tea now, Madelene?" Helen was alarmed at the
threatened tempest, and hoped to change the subject.

"Yes, thanks, dear," and to her brother, "After all, Ebbie, Forrie
probably knows his own business best. You know he's quite partial to the
squatters and always did things for 'em."

Mrs. Waldstricker summoned the servant, and while the dishes were being
removed, Ebenezer sat and glowered from Frederick, white and distrait,
to his wife, who was explaining to Madelene the way she'd made the salad
dressing. When the servant had gone, Waldstricker began again.

"I'm out of patience with Deforrest! If he'd let me alone, I'd had all
the squatters off the lake side before this and probably would have
located Bishop."

"You've heard nothing of him, Ebbie, I suppose?" asked Madelene. "It
does seem queer a dwarf could disappear like that and not a word about
him from any part of the world."

Waldstricker's powerful hand clenched the teaspoon in his fingers so
violently as to bend the handle.

"No, I haven't," he growled. "I've a notion he's being harbored by some
of the squatters. But I want Deforrest to understand this--"

"Oh, let's talk of something else besides squatters," cried Madelene.
"Helen, your salad was divine.... Tell me, Ebbie, how you enjoy little
Elsie. I think she's lovely."

"Lovely!" he repeated in a very different tone. "Lovely is no word f