een made upon the thoughtless boys and girls,
and a shadow rested on each face as they bade "good-night" to their
young hostess.

"She's the prettiest girl I ever saw," confided Teola to Frederick
afterward; "her eyes are the color of a marigold."

In her heart Teola was glad that she had gone to the squatter in
sympathy, for, upon leaving, Dan Jordan had whispered words that had
burned deep into her soul:

"You are an angel, Teola _dear_, and I--love--you."

For one instant the tall student had bent his head, laying his lips upon
hers--and had gone without another word.

CHAPTER XIII

The last day of the trial was so different from that of Tessibel's
dreams! Again she must cross the dark Hoghole trestle alone on her way
to the hut. But the singing in her heart when she left the Rectory took
away the pain of her loneliness. Frederick Graves had said that she had
done right in coming to him and asking prayers for "Daddy Skinner." Her
faith in the student carried her above the material things of the earth,
more than her absolute faith in God, for like women, Tessibel lived and
had faith through the man of her choice.

It was nearly midnight when she passed Kennedy's wheat field in which
capered Pete, the brindle bulldog. She called to him softly, pronouncing
his name twice in loving resonance, which brought a low, pleased howl
from the coarse throat of the dog. But the exhausted squatter-girl did
not wait to touch the long, red tongue as Pete thrust his nose through
the fence. She passed quickly down the lane to her father's hut. Turning
the corner of the mud cellar, she saw dimly a man's form leaning against
the shanty door. Her eyes were accustomed to marking correctly through
the darkness, and it took Tess but a moment to ascertain that the
lounging figure was Ben Letts.

In an instant, the first real fear she had ever felt swept over her and
she drew back into the shadows. As a child she had fled from this man
because he tantalized her; as a woman she dreaded him more than any
reptile that came from the earth.

The man, hearing footsteps, raised his head; the silence continuing, he
dropped it again, thinking he had been mistaken, and resumed his former
position of waiting.

Tessibel wondered if she should go bravely forward--insist that the
shanty was hers, and that he should go away. The mud cellar was between
her and the waiting man, and as she peered closer to see if Ben were
still there one br