hurt and frightened her. She knew he would do
his worst and that Frederick wouldn't or couldn't help it. The desire to
get Boy into her arms, to keep him from the men below urged her on.
Wildly, she fled through the orchard, crying as she went.

"Boy! Mummy's Boy! Where's Mummy's Boy?"

Gasping for breath, her voice ejected the words explosively. Exhausted,
she sank upon the top step of the porch. The long run up the hill had
been almost too much, but in a moment, she lifted herself, still calling
and panting, and stumbled into the house.

"He's upstairs with Andy," said Young, looking up from his book. Then,
alarmed by her appearance, he jumped up and hurried to her. "What's the
matter, Tess? Tell me."

"Where's the baby?" she demanded hysterically, clinging to him.... "Tell
me where my baby is."

Drawing her into an easy chair, Deforrest attempted to quiet her.

"Boy's upstairs with Andy. Hush, hush, child! Don't cry like that!...
Oh, my little girl!... What is it?... What's happened? Tell me ...
quick!"

But Tess couldn't speak. She only clung to his arms, trying to stifle
her gasping cries.

Just then Boy's clear laugh came pealing down the stairway, a conclusive
comfort to his mother's heart. When her extreme agitation had subsided.
Professor Young sat down and called her to him. As of old, when first
he had heard her lessons in his home, she dropped at his feet, resting
her curly head against his knee.

"Now I want to know what's frightened you," said he, softly.

The girl made a gesture of refusal. "I can't tell it," she replied,
under her breath. "It's too terrible! It's too awful!"

"There's nothing too terrible for me to know," answered Young. "What
happened while you were out?"

"Don't ask me to tell you, Uncle Forrie," pleaded Tess. "I can't! I
can't!"

"Tessibel," demanded the lawyer, "was it Sandy Letts?"

"Oh, no, no, not him!"

The man pondered a moment.

"Was it--"

"Please don't ask me any more questions." She lifted a crimson face. "I
was foolish, I suppose, but I thought, I thought the baby--"

"Some one threatened Boy! Was that it, Tessibel?" he cross-questioned.

"Yes." The murmured answer was scarcely audible.

"One of the squatters, then?"

The red head sank again. This time a decided shake of the shining curls
made the denial.

Hoping to avoid further examination, the girl tried to rise to her feet,
but the questioner's hand pressed her back.

"Don't ask me," she e