ike about the house. She strained
her eyes, now at one window and then at another, for the first glimpse
of Lon. The luncheon hour came and passed, and still the thieves gave no
sign of coming. Horace had returned from his office early in the
afternoon, and was smoking a cigar in the library, when suddenly a loud
peal of the doorbell roused him. Fledra, too, heard it distinctly. She
was sitting beside Floyd; but had not dared to breathe their danger to
him. Her cheeks paled at the sound, and she rested silent until
presently summoned to the drawing-room.

"What's the matter?" asked her brother.

"Nothin', Fluke, lay down, and if ye hear anyone talkin' keep still.
Somebody's coming."

"Somebody comes every day," answered Floyd. "That ain't nothin'. What ye
doin', Flea?"

She was standing at the door with her ear to the keyhole. She heard the
servant pass her, heard the door open, and Lon's voice asking for Mr.
Shellington. Then she slid back to Flukey, trembling from head to foot.

"Ye're sick, Dear," said the boy. "Get off this bed, Snatchet! Lay down
here by me, Flea and rest."

The girl dropped down beside him and closed her eyes with a groan. Floyd
placed his thin hand upon her, and Fledra remained silent, until she was
summoned to the drawing-room.

* * * * *

"Who wanted me?" Horace asked the question of the mystified servant.

"I didn't catch the name, Sir. I didn't understand it. He's a
dreadful-looking man."

Horace rose, put down his cigar, and walked into the hall.

Lon Cronk was waiting with a shabby cap in his hand. He bowed awkwardly
to Shellington, and essayed to speak; but Horace interrupted:

"Do you wish to see me?"

"Yep," answered Lon, glancing sullenly over the young lawyer. "I've come
for my brats."

"Your what?"

"My kids, Flea and Flukey Cronk."

Horace felt something clutch at his heart. Fledra's radiant face rose
before his mental vision, and he swallowed hard, as he thought of her
relation to the brutal fellow before him.

"Walk in here, please," he said.

Then he bade the servant call his sister.

Miss Shellington obeyed the summons so quickly that her brother was
indicating a chair for the squatter as she walked in. At sight of the
uncouth stranger she glanced about her in dismay.

"Ann," said Horace, "this is the father--of--"

Ann's expression snapped off his statement. She knew what he would say
without his finishing. She remembere