sity and
interest. A tall man in the back row rose and came forward.

"Mr. Graves," said the stranger solemnly, "you say that this man is to
hang for murder. I say that he shall be given another chance for his
life, and that he shall not hang if I can prevent it."

Deforrest Young, the noted professor of law from the University, was
looking at Graves. A frown gathered on the broad brow of the minister,
and every one gasped as the professor took Tessibel's hands in his.

"My child," and he bent lower that she might hear, for her bowed head
was the only evidence of her grief, "Your prayers have accomplished more
than you think. Keep on praying and pray hard, and the next time you
come here you shall take home--your Daddy Skinner."

CHAPTER XII

Twenty young people had gathered for the toffy pull at Minister Graves'.
Tess was the topic of conversation; every one was eager to talk of the
unheard-of action in the court-room that day.

"My mother says," chimed in a pretty girl, "that when that Skinner girl
walked up through the court room, she sounded like a horse trotting
along."

"She had on a pair of man's boots, that's why," said another, "but she
has a beautiful voice, hasn't she?"

This question was directed to Frederick Graves.

"Yes," he assented, flushing to his high-forehead line.

"And besides a beautiful voice," broke in Richard Hall, "she has a
mighty pretty face--and such hair! If she hadn't been crying and had so
many people around her, I should have spoken to her. She's worth
consoling!"

A sharp pang of jealousy shot through Frederick's heart. That another
should make lighter the burdens of the squatter girl filled him with
unrest. A pleading face flashed across his vision and Tessibel's voice
rang anew in his ears. He was living over again the moments spent in the
cabin, and his heart thrilled at the memory of the momentary glance sent
to him over the heads of the spectators in the crowded court-room.

Teola entered the drawing-room, turning the conversation from Tess to
the pleasure of the evening.

"Will some one help me pull the toffy?" said she.

Her eyes were upon Dan Jordan--he rose quickly to his feet and followed
the girl smilingly to the kitchen.

"I wanted you to help me get it ready," Teola said; coloring.

"I'm glad you chose me," replied Dan.

"I didn't ask you, did I?" The beautiful head hung low over the brown
mixture in the kettle.

"Your eyes did," laughed Dan.