Vandecar
household. As month after month passed and nothing was heard of her
children, Mrs. Vandecar gradually gave up hope. Her despair left a
shadow of pathetic pleading in her blue eyes. This constant silent
appeal whitened Floyd Vandecar's hair and caused him to apply himself to
business more assiduously than ever. Never once in all those bitter
years did he connect Lon Cronk with the disappearance of his babies.

Meantime two sturdy children were growing to girlhood and boyhood in the
Cronk hut on Cayuga Lake. So safely had the secret of the kidnapping
been kept from Granny Cronk and the other squatters in the settlement
that the twins were regarded by all as the son and daughter of the
squatter.

The year following Flea's and Flukey's fourteenth birthday the boy was
taken into his foster-father's trade of thieving. At first he was
allowed only to enter the houses and deftly unbar the door for an easier
egress for Eli Cronk and Lem Crabbe. Later he was commanded to snatch up
anything of value he could. Many were the times he wept in boyish
bitterness against the commands of Lon, revealing his sorrows to Flea,
who listened moodily.

"I wouldn't steal nothin' if I was you," she said again and again. But
Flukey one day silenced this reiteration by confiding to her that Pappy
Lon had threatened to turn her to his trade if he rebelled.

* * * * *

One afternoon in late September, Flea left the hut and went out to the
lake. Flukey, Lon Cronk, and Lem Crabbe had gone to Ithaca to buy
groceries, and it was time for them to return. A chill wind swung the
girl's skirt about her knees, and for some minutes she squatted on the
beach, keeping her eyes upon the lighthouse in the distance.

For the last year Flea had been rapidly growing into a woman. Granny
Cronk had proudly noted that the fair face had grown lovelier, that the
ebony curls fell about her shoulders. The one dream the girl had had was
a dream of long hair, ankle dresses, and girl's shoes. Until that year
Lon had insisted that her hair be kept short, and had himself trimmed
the ebony curls every month. Now, in the damp air, they twisted and
turned in the wildest profusion. The coming of womanhood had thrown new
light into the clear-gray, brown-flecked eyes. At this moment she was
wondering what she and her brother would do if Granny Cronk died. She
shivered as she thought of life in the hut without the protecting old
woman.