ed, and I can't tell him.... I
haven't the courage," she ejaculated, waiting long for a reply from the
rigid girl. Her lips trembled as she faltered:

"My father was cruel to you, Tess!"

"I were a-stealin'," Tess muttered. "He wouldn't a whipped me if he--had
knowed about it, would he?"

"No, no! He would have died first.... Tessibel, why didn't you tell
him?"

"Didn't ye say it would kill the student if he knowed it? And I swored,
didn't I? when the brat was borned, that I wouldn't tell--and I ain't no
liar--leastwise about no brats. If it air told, the brat's ma's got to
tell it," she finished.

Teola dropped beside her infant.

"I'm afraid to tell it. My father and brother have such confidence in
me!" She shifted about, and looked at Tessibel. "We are going to move to
the city, Saturday.... I have been thinking about the baby's milk--"

"I has money now," broke in Tess. "I don't have to steal no more. Daddy
air a-comin' home soon, too."

"I know it. Father heard from Professor Young all about it. I am so glad
for you, Tess. What will you say to him about the baby?"

"I dunno," grunted the squatter.

She answered no more of Teola's questions, but for a long time remained
moodily looking, with narrowed eyes and burning heart, at the minister's
daughter.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Two days later, on Friday evening, Teola slipped quietly from her home,
and the Skinner hut opened to her timid knock. Tess had no more fear
when visitors came. Ben Letts had gone with Myra, and Ezra Longman was
dead.

The girls eyed each other for one embarrassed moment. The day for
separation was at hand: Tess would face the lean winter, Teola the
burden of a conscience in torment.

"Come in," muttered Tess.

"Tessibel," Teola burst out spontaneously, "we are going away to-morrow.
I wish I were going to stay with you and the baby!"

Gloomily Tess scrutinized the young mother, checking an ejaculation that
rose to her lips.

"I don't understand what you are going to do," said Teola. "Tess, do you
think he is very ill? You do! I can see it in your face. Look how he
yawns, and screws his mouth, and shuts his eyes! Oh, he is suffering,
Tessibel!"

"Yep, he air sick," replied Tess, turning her back. She had grown to
love the hapless thing, and knew that he suffered as all human beings
suffer when they go slowly away to the mystery of mysteries.

Teola's next words brought her about sharply.

"Tessibel, do you--hate me?"