the cheery scene about them, flashed
upon the eyes of the young people. A red-haired girl, unkempt and
dripping, wild anxiety portrayed upon her face, stood in the doorway.
There was not the slightest embarrassment in her glance as her peculiar
eyes traveled the lines of boys and girls, sitting round the wall. When
at last they fell on Frederick, she took an impetuous step toward him, a
brilliant smile lighting the wan face. Stupefaction rested upon the
student as he recognized Tessibel Skinner.

"It air time--to pray," said she, looking straight at him, as he slowly
rose from his chair. "Daddy Skinner air to be took away--unless yer God
stops the rope."

Every word was distinct--unless God would stay the rope. The words
repeated themselves over in the boy's brain and his face deepened in
color. It was the beautiful faith of the wild, untaught young girl with
the hot blood rushing in her veins that called forth the flush. His
heart sickened with his own lack of confidence in God. He was to preach
of a crucified Saviour, but no such faith and hope as this of Tessibel
Skinner's would aid him. He was even now ashamed of the girl in cowhide
boots and torn, thin skirt.

As these thoughts floated past him, he saw the young squatter wither
under a giggle from a girl in the corner.

"Look at her feet," were the words that changed Tessibel's frankness to
embarrassment, her eager pathos to wofulness.

Tessibel shrank close to the door, for the first time realizing how out
of place she was.

"I were--I were--a fool to come, but--but--"

The earnestness of the vibrant voice, the proud, appealing young face
moved Frederick to pity and self-reproach.

"It was right--you should have come," said he, gently taking her hands,
"and no one dare question your privilege to ask a prayer for your
father."

Still retaining her fingers in his, he turned, explaining:

"This is Miss Skinner whose father is suffering now from a stroke of the
law. We, who have fathers and mothers whom we love, must wish her well."

Tessibel sank down, down, among her boots and rags, his words reducing
her to tears. Teola came to her brother's side. She had never before
been actually in the presence of a squatter, for, when they had brought
fish and berries to the back door, her mother had always ordered the
children to the front of the house; but now, filled with sympathy she
stooped down and placed her hand upon Tessibel's head. The touch was so
gent