retorted Brimbecomb.

"Not a damned bit!"

"Then go and make your arrangements with your one-armed friend and leave
your daughter here with me."

"Ye be in too big a hurry, my fine buck! Lem ain't as willin' as I be;
but I'll jest go down to the scow and speak with him."

"I want to go with you, Pappy Lon," cried Fledra.

"Ye stay right here, gal," commanded Cronk. Full in her face he slammed
the door and left her alone with Brimbecomb.

Everett stood looking at her for fully a minute, and as steadily she
eyed him back.

"I have come for you," he said quietly. "I could not leave you with
these persons."

Fledra curled her lip scornfully.

"I lived with them a long time before I saw any of you folks," she said
bitterly.

The girl did not reason now. She knew that she must send him back, that
this was her only way to repay the woman who had saved her brother. So
she went up to Brimbecomb appealingly, her eager eyes gleaming into
his.

"I want you to go back to Tarrytown," she said, "and go to
Shellingtons', and see Sister Ann. She's dying to have you back. And you
belong to her, because you promised her, and she promised you. Will you
go back?"

"When I wish to, I will; but not yet," muttered Everett. He had been
taken aback at her words, and at that moment could think of no way to
compromise with her. She was so near that he threw out his hands and
caught her. Forcibly he drew her face close to his, his lips whitening
under the spell of her nearness.

"Never, never will I let you go away from me again!" he was saying
passionately, when Cronk opened the door and stepped in.

The squatter gave no evidence that he had seen Everett's action. He left
the door open, through which the breeze flung the dust and the dead
leaves.

"Lem'll see ye in the scow," he said. "I ain't got nothin' to say 'bout
this--only as how Flea goes to one or the other of ye."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Not more than half an hour after Everett had reached Sherwoods Lane,
Governor Vandecar's train came to a halt at the same place, and the
party, consisting of the governor, Ann Shellington, and Katherine
Vandecar, made ready to step out into the night.

"Please draw up to the switch," the governor instructed the conductor,
"and I'll hail you as soon as we return. Keep an ear out for my call."

"Yes, Sir," replied the conductor; "but you'd better take this
lantern--it's sure dark down by that lake, Sir. And you can signal me