et. "Let Andy go, and tell 'im I'm
sorry.... Here, let me write my name to the paper."

It took many efforts for the cramped fingers to scrawl the words, but
"Owen Bennet" was legibly written when the man dropped back, exhausted.

The warden folded the paper and, smiling, put it into his pocket.

"I've always believed he did it, Miss Skinner," he confided to Tess.
"Now, come away."

Bennet's ears caught the last words. In dying effort, he lifted an
imploring hand.

"Don't go, lady!" he mourned. "Stay a minute!... I air a needin' ye....
I air afraid, so awful alone!"

Tess spoke to the warden.

"Tell Mr. Young I'm staying for a while," said she, "and will you please
let Andy know about it?" And she sat down again.

Through the rest of the afternoon, until the long shadows of Auburn
Prison were lost in the gathering gloom, Tessibel sat beside the dying
man. Sometimes, she whispered to him, sometimes, she sang very softly,
and, when Deforrest Young and the warden came through the hospital ward
to her side, Tessibel had piloted Owen Bennet through the darkness into
a marvelous light.

CHAPTER XLVII.

WALDSTRICKER'S ANGER

Lysander Letts wanted to get married and settle down in a home of his
own. He had received and banked the five thousand dollars for
discovering the dwarf, and was, now, looking forward confidently to his
marriage with Tessibel Skinner. He was quite sure his wealth would
overcome the objections the squatter girl had hitherto opposed to his
suit.

He grew quite sentimental thinking of her. He'd buy a real house, and
put some fancy furniture in it, plush sofas in the parlor and lace
curtains at the windows,--not any squatter's shack or pecking-box hut on
the Rhine for him. His face darkened at a disturbing thought. He'd make
the girl give up that kid! He wouldn't tolerate another man's brat in
his home. But Lysander had a wholesome fear of Deforrest Young, and he
didn't venture down the lake until the second day after he'd heard Tess
had returned from Auburn.

On his way along the railroad tracks, he concluded he'd better go to
Brewer's and find out just how the land lay. The talk in the Rhine
saloons, the night before, had been that the dwarf'd returned from
Auburn, pardoned. He wanted to know the details, and was sure Jake
Brewer would be able to tell him. He passed through the woods and
scrambled down the steps the fisherman had cut roughly in the cliff
side. Mrs. Brewer answered