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at the corners as he spoke. Tess sprang toward him, and wound her strong young arms about him. "Myry air happy," she burst forth; "happier than when she were livin' with you. She air with Ben Letts." Satisfied, towering over her, blinked confusedly at her words. Puzzling, he drew his heavy brows down darkly. "Myry were a-seekin' Ben," Tess went
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on hurriedly, "and the brat couldn't stay without its pa and ma. I says as how Myry air happy, Satisfied." "She were a-lovin' Ben Letts?" The pain in his clouded blue eyes stung Tess to the heart. The grief of this lonely old man, bereft of his all, seemed the most tragic spectacle she had ever faced. "Yep," she replied,
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trying to smile through her tears; "she were a-lovin' him, and were a-seekin' his lovin's all the time. It were only in the storm--she found what she were a-seekin'." She turned her head sharply toward the dead. "Ye can see she air a-smilin', Satisfied, can't ye? And Ben air a-huggin' her up to him. That air somethin' Myry wanted. And
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ye air a-goin' to leave them like that, ain't ye? Don't tear Ben's arms loose, 'cause Myry won't be happy if ye does. Can't ye put 'em in a box, just like they air?" Longman made a protesting motion. Some fishermen had picked the two dead ones up, locked in each other's arms. And he himself had covered them with
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a sheet, without making an effort to part them. He had not thought of putting them in the squatters' cemetery together. "And let the brat stay with 'em, too," Tess broke in on his reverie. "Yep," he replied; "I lets 'em all stay together. What Myry seeked for and found, she can have for all of me." The listening girl
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knew there was hatred in the father's tones for Ben Letts. Well, she had hated Ben too, but he was all Myra's now, and there was no more hatred for the ugly squatter in the heart of Tessibel. "She air a-smilin', Satisfied," Tess said again. Longman loosened Tessibel's arms, and, walking slowly forward, looked down upon his daughter. "I hain't
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seed before that she were a-smilin'," he said, taking a long breath. "Ye says as how she air happy, Tess?" "Yep; she air with Ben Letts." "I air a-goin' in to tell her ma that Myry air happy," asserted Longman, with relief in his voice. "I thank ye, Tess, for tellin' me that she were. I weren't thinkin' of nothin'
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but the storm, the water, and the time that ma and me were a-sleepin' when Myry were a-dyin'. She air happy, ye air sure, Tess?" "Yep, for she were a-seekin' Ben Letts. She told me as how--" Tessibel choked back the words. "She told ye what?" Tess was going to tell him of the night on the ragged rocks and
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of Myra's broken wrist, but, with a flashing glance at the dead woman, changed her mind. In her vivid imagination she thought that Myra was silently entreating her not to speak ill of the dead man in her arms. "She told me that Ben were the brat's pa, and that--" her eyes gladdened as she finished--"she were a-lovin' him; and,
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Satisfied, when we air a-lovin', and lovin' damn hard, then ain't we happy when we air with them what we loves?" She had come close to him, standing near the dead man and woman. The girl slipped her hand into Longman's reassuringly, as she asked the last question. "Yep," replied Satisfied, disappearing into the back room. Tessibel had forgotten the
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child in the basket. She turned her eyes toward it, and a movement of the cover told her that the little Dan was awake. She was bending over it when Longman appeared at her side. "Mammy says as how ye air to come in, Tess," he said, his eyes falling upon the child. "Whose brat air it?" he asked, with
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no shadowing suspicion in his glance. "Where did ye get it, Tessibel?" "I air a-carin' for it for a while. I comed, Satisfied----" Could she ask these people in sore grief for a dress that the dead child on the board had worn? "Ye comed for what?" asked the man. "I air a-wantin' to take him to the church, and
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I ain't got no dress for him. Would Mammy Longman let me take one?" "Yep. Go in, and tell her. She air in bed." Tess covered the babe's face, and placed the basket on the table. "I can't leave him in the hut," she explained; "the rats air too thick." "Yes," was all Longman said, and he fell to thinking
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deeply. Tess crept away to the back room. "I comed to see ye, Mammy Longman, and----" "Sit down on the bed," interrupted the tired voice. "Myry and Ezy air both gone. Satisfied says as how Myry air a-smilin' and as how ye said she were happy. Satisfied and me feels better, we does." Tessibel choked back the welling tears. The
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gray head resting upon a soiled pillow, the pale face turned toward the wall, which had not turned to her, struck Tess deeper than Satisfied's stolid grief. "Ye be sure Myry air happy?" came the tired voice again. "Yep." Mrs. Longman threw her eyes on Tessibel. "If she air happy, what air ye cryin' for?" "'Cause it air lonely for
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ye and Satisfied without her and the brat. I knows, 'cause I ain't had Daddy in such a long time." "We was lookin' for Myry back, but not like--" Tess broke in upon her words. "Mammy Longman, I air a-carin' for a little chap what ain't goin' to live, and I wants a dress to take him to the church.
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Will ye let me have one?" Mrs. Longman sat up, a new interest dawning in her faded eyes. "To a church? Why to a church? He ain't dead yet, air he?" "Nope; but his ma wants him took to the church where the Huly Ghost air, to have the water put on him.... Can I take the dress?" "Yep, Tess;
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take one from Myry's box. They ain't good, but our little brat wored them." Aimlessly, she lay down again and ceased speaking, but whimpered until Tess left the room. The girl made her choice from the small stock of dresses that had been worn by the Longman family, and had at last descended to the little dead boy. * *
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* * * On her way home to the hut once more, Tess paused on the rocks. The spectacle at Longman's had filled her eyes with the shadow of longing. She had seen Myra clasped in the arms of the man she loved. Tessibel's thoughts flew to the student. She could imagine her own happiness if she had been in
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the storm, and Frederick had taken her in his arms, and they should have-- "I wish almost I was Myry," she moaned, "and the student was Ben Letts.... No, no! not that! not that!" She sank under the burden of a new thought. Myra had sought, and had found--had searched for Ben in the storm, and had found him. Myra
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had had more faith than she had. "Faith the size of a mustard-seed," flashed into her mind. Her own past unbelief pressed upon her, and the color fled from her cheeks, leaving them pale. She opened the basket, and put her wistful face close to the sleeping child, her mental tension gone in her uprising faith. "I thought as how
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ye were a-keepin' the student from me, but ye ain't. God ain't ready to let me have him. But he air a-goin' to let me have him some time. I air glad I got ye, and I hopes that ye live, too. Myry air got Ben Letts, and I air a-goin' to have--Frederick." She walked home in a reverie deep
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and sweet. Sunday morning, Tessibel was out upon the tracks, walking swiftly toward the city. She could hear the church bell at Haytes Corner ringing out a welcome to the country folk; she could hear the tolling of the chapel bell from the University hill. Clothed in the clean skirt she had washed at the time she had thought of
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going to Auburn prison, and a worn but clean jacket, Tess felt fit to face the best-dressed in Ithaca. Of course she was barefooted, for Daddy's boots were too big to wear into the house of the student's God. Earlier in the morning Tessibel had sat for a long time upon the small fishing dock, swinging her feet in the
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clear water. They, too, like the skirt and jacket, were clean. In the basket, snuggling in the nest of white clothes, lay little Dan. He was robed, in the much-worn garment of the Longman child, and Tessibel had looked at him with pride as she settled him in his bed preparatory to her trip. She passed swiftly through the city,
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and crossed Dewitt Park. How vividly she remembered the many midnights she had taken the same way, turning toward the jail to visit "Daddy"! Tessibel paused before Minister Graves' church, and heard him read in deep tones from the Scriptures: "Suffer little children to come unto me, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." The harmonious voice floated through
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the window to the fisher-girl, now crouched in the sun. Every word fell distinctly upon her ear. She lifted the basket cover, and peeped in upon the babe. He looked bluer and thinner than Tess had ever seen him; his lips rested upon the rag with no indrawing movement. Unblinkingly stared the wide gray eyes when the sunbeams flashed upon
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his face. The vivid birth-mark grew fainter in the yellow light. Tess drew him into the shade, and waited. The tones rolled out like thunder when Dominie Graves bade the members of his flock bring their children to the Holy Font, that they might receive the blessing of God, and everlasting life. Tess heard him say that the Father in
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Heaven demanded that all children should be baptized in the name of the crucified Saviour--that to put off such a duty might prove dangerous to their eternal welfare. Many of the long words the squatter did not understand, but she gathered enough to know how necessary it was to obey the minister's commands. She glanced again at the babe, with
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a worried pucker between her eyes. There was the same stare, the same unmoving lips. But he was quiet, and Tessibel let him lie. "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy-laden--" rang forth the powerful voice. It fell upon the red-haired girl and soothed her. Tess knew that Teola would be expecting her, and that Frederick would
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turn his face away when she presented the child for baptism, but no cloud gathered into the downcast eyes, for Tessibel's faith had grown since she knew that Myra's prayers had been answered. Had she not seen the girl clasped in the arms of the fisherman, who had once said that he hated her? Had she not seen the smile
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upon the dead lips which dripped with lake water? Tessibel had never before been so confident in prayer, and upon this beautiful Sunday morning, in the white light of day, kneeling under the church window, she believed that God would give her back the student--some time. She thought of the pain that would rest in the proud dark eyes of
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the boy when he saw her; but she smiled, because she knew that God lived, heard and answered the prayers of the heavy-laden. An anthem rolled up from the church choir, chanting out the love of Christ, chanting His crucifixion and death for a dying world. "Come unto me, come unto me," it sang, and "Come unto me," rose from
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the lips of the squatter waiting to take the little human thing, with its burden of sickness and death, to Dominie Graves, that he might petition the Holy Ghost to take away its sin. "Come unto me," again sang the choir. Then silence. Tess leaned nearer the window. Dominie Graves read out the names of the babies to be baptized
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that day. A carriage rolled rapidly to the church door, and Deacon Hall, accompanied by his wife, stepped to the pavement. The Deacon held a bundle with long white draperies hanging from it. It was their new baby, with lace upon its frock, going in to receive a blessing at the altar of God. Tess peered down upon the little
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Dan, and pulled the coarse dress closer about his chin. A violent wish born of the love she had for him came into her heart. Oh, that she had one bit of lace, to make his skin look less blue and the mouth less drawn! The wide eyes were still fixed upon her, immovable and unblinking. Once only had she
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seen the lids fall slowly downward, to rise again over the unseeing eyes. "He knows he air a-goin' to church," she muttered lovingly. "I wonder if that air why he air so good.... Mebbe the spirit of his pappy air here." She heard the names fall from the lips of the clergyman, as he took the infants, one by one,
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and placed his hand upon them with the water. "I baptize thee, John Richard," Graves said slowly, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." "Of the Holy Ghost...." He was the Spirit of God Who stood by the children, to take away the sin with which they had been born. Teola had
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told Tess so. The Holy Ghost would take away the sin of little Dan. "I baptize thee," broke the silence, time after time, amid the tiny splashes of falling water. The last must have gone up to the altar, for Tess heard the minister telling the fathers and mothers the duty they owed their children. "I finish my service to-day,"
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said he, "by praying God to bless you all, and calling down the good-will of Heaven upon your children just baptized in His name." Tessibel did not wait to hear the rest. She raised the child from the basket, shielding him from the sun with her body, stretched him out reverently upon her hands, and tiptoed up the long flight
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of steps into the church. A sea of heads rose before her startled vision. Transfixed, she paused in the door, waiting for Graves to cease speaking. Her eye caught the pew of the minister. Teola sat next to Frederick on the end, Mrs. Graves between her and her younger daughter. Tess noticed the tense expression upon the sharp profile of
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the babe's mother. How glad Teola would be when the baby was baptized! How happy in the new-found Heaven for her child! The minister's voice had fallen into a prayer. And still Tess waited with the dying infant, staring wide-eyed upward at the great church dome. Every head was bowed: no one saw the strange girl, with hair flung wide
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about her shoulders, nor the tiny human being resting upon her hands. Silence fell upon the congregation, and Tessibel commenced her walk down through the sea of faces to the pulpit. She gave no glance toward Teola as she passed, but kept her eyes fixed upon Dominie Graves, who, without noticing her, had turned to the little flight of steps
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that led to his pulpit. When he reached the Bible stand, and opened his lips to speak, his gaze dropped upon the squatter. At first he thought he was dreaming. He looked again--looked at her--at the child--and paled to his ears. Tessibel was holding the infant up toward him, with a beseeching expression in her eyes that staggered him. Teola
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had seen Tess pass, and had caught a glimpse of the thin child upon her hands. The pursed baby lips, from which hung the useless sugar rag, made her lower her head to the prayer cushion, shuddering violently. Frederick had also seen the squatter--everyone in the church had seen her, and the silence grew wider and wider, until even breathing
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was hushed to catch her words. Her low, sweet voice began to speak; it thrilled through the congregation like the song of angels. [Illustration: "BE YE GOIN' TO LET HIM GO A PLACE WHERE GOD CAN'T FIND HIM?"] "I has brought ye a dyin' brat, Dominie Graves," began Tess with shaking voice, "who has got to be sprinkled, or he
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can't go to Heaven." The vast silence of the edifice echoed her petition. The gaping minister never once took his eyes from her face, and made no move to answer her. "It air a-dyin', I say," she went on, "and I wants ye to put the water on it." So deadly in earnest was the girl that a sob broke
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out in the back of the church. The lithe, barefooted squatter, and the feeble, dying child offered a living picture of pathos, which with its tragedy slowly dawned upon the more sensitive minds, silently telling its tale of human suffering. Minister Graves refused to answer her. He wore the same expression of scorn Tess had seen in the student when
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she had acknowledged the child as hers. "Be ye goin' to sprinkle him?" she demanded steadfastly, her voice growing stronger with her emotions. "Be ye?" "No, I'm not." Graves' voice fell like the sound of a deep-toned bell. "Be ye goin' to let him go to a place where God can't find him? Be ye?" Tess entreated. Anger and revolt
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glinted through the golden-brown of her eyes; she swayed back a little from the font, still holding out the babe. "He air so little," she pleaded with a choke, "and so awful sick. Mebbe he won't live till mornin'. He can't hurt the others, now they air done with the water, can he?" She peeped into the marble basin, and
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lifted her eyes to his face. "There air lots of water left. Be there other babies wantin' it worse than this one?" She turned half-way round, and faced the wall of white faces, sending the question out in high-pitched tones. Then Graves spoke with austerity and strength, riding down his anger with a mighty effort. "You will please take the
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child from the church. You have your own squatter mission for such as that." He had forgotten his members--forgotten that he was a man of God. As he bent toward her, he remembered only that she was the girl who had thwarted him, who had won in the squatter fight against his own influence. Tessibel heard the words "squatter" and
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"mission." It had not occurred to her to take the child there. She looked down upon the little fire-marked face. Would baby Dan live until she could get him there? He might be dead before she could carry him to the inlet and cross the tracks to the young rector's house. Teola had said that the baby would never be
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with his father without baptism, that even she, his mother, could not see him when she, too, went away. Little Dan, uncleansed, would live far from the bright angels. Her anger rose in a twinkling. She took another backward step, threw the red curls into a mass over her shoulder, and spoke again. "Air I to take him from the
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church without the water?" "Yes." "I'll be damned if I's a-goin' to take him away," she flung back, panting. "He air so near dead, he air blind--look at his eyes! I says, he air to be sprinkled, he air! If ye won't give the Huly Ghost a chance at him--" Here she stepped forward to the font, flashed a look
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of hatred at Graves, and suddenly dipped her hand into the water. "I sprinkles him myself," she ended. The drops fell upon the livid baby face, dripping down upon the bare feet of the squatter. "I baptize--" Tess wavered for lack of words. She had thought she could not forget the benediction. A voice from the back of the church
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broke in abruptly upon her hesitation. "I baptize thee, child," it rang, "in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." Bill Hopkins was in the middle aisle, coming toward her. Tess snatched one glimpse of his face, still holding her wet hand upon the dark-haired babe. "Say it, girl," Hopkins commanded. "Say it,
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quick. The child is dying." "I baptize thee, child, in the name--" gasped Tess. She stepped back again, throwing an entreating, silent appeal to the huge, bald-headed man. "Of the Father, and of the Son," repeated Bill. "Of the Father, and of the Son," echoed Tess. "And of the Holy Ghost," ended Hopkins. "And of the Huly Ghost," whispered Tess.
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"Amen" rolled from a hundred tear-choked throats, like the distant murmuring of the sea. Hopkins sat down, saying no more. Minister Graves had sunk into his chair, and on the girl's last words the congregation drew a long, gasping breath. The eyes of the babe gazed steadily on into the shadows of eternal silence; the water seemingly unfelt upon its
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head. The small boy was slipping away to that place of mystery where his father, Myra and Ben Letts had gone. The long days of suffering with the child in the hut rushed over Tess. She dropped on her knees, facing the pulpit, and hugged him to her breast, and whispered, "Suffer little children to come unto me--" Then another
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voice, shrill, sobbing and terrible, hushed her prayer. The squatter instinctively shifted her position toward the Dominie's pew. Teola Graves was standing up, tall and pale, and was looking directly at the minister. "Father," she cried, "Father, if you don't take the baby and baptize him in the name of the Saviour, you will consign to everlasting darkness--" She lost
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her breath, caught it again, and finished, "your own flesh and blood. God! dear God, take us both to Dan!... Tessibel, Tessibel, give me my baby!" She wrenched herself loose from Frederick's detaining fingers, and was in the aisle before her brother realized what had happened. "He's my baby," she cried, between the spasmodic pressures upon her chest. "Tess! Tess,
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is he dead?" "Yep, he air dead," fell from Tessibel; for she had seen the large, glazed eyes draw in at the corners and the little face blanch. The tiny spirit fled as the frantic girl-mother clasped her babe to her breast. "But he air gone to his pappy," consoled the squatter. For one awful moment, Dominie Graves looked into
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the accusing eyes of his congregation. Bill Hopkins was seated, with his face in his hands, but Augusta Hall, with her new baby folded tightly in her arms, was looking at him in dark-eyed disdain. Graves swayed dizzily, ... caught at the pulpit table for support. "Jesus," he appealed dizzily, "Christ Jesus." Frederick pressed his way to his sister's side.
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The squatter threw up her head before him: for the first time since that last dreadful night, she looked directly into his eyes, her dishonor slipping from her like a loosened garment. Frederick's soul shone forth in the glance he sent her. God in His own time had given her back the student. Tessibel turned, and passed up through the
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mute gathering. Bill Hopkins put out his hand, and touched her. "Child," he said brokenly, "you are the one bright spirit in this generation." But Tessibel did not understand. She went down the long flight of steps, and into the sun-lit street, with but a backward glance at the rag-draped basket she had left under the church window. Tessibel was
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a child again, a happy, free-hearted child. The body of her death had fallen away as Christian's burden had slipped from his shoulders at the foot of the cross. The babe had gone to its father with the blessing of the Holy Ghost! Then Tess thought of Teola, and stopped on the tracks, the Dominie's last words rushing into her
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mind. She had understood the import of them. It had been carried to her by the awful expression upon Graves' face. He was sorry, this minister who had persecuted her father and herself--sorry for Teola, sorry for the brat! "The Dominie ain't likin' Daddy and me, though," she murmured. "But the student air a-likin' me!" For the next two miles
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she sang lustily, childishly, with the complete abandon of a girl without a burden. Daddy Skinner was coming home, and God had given her back the student. The remembrance of his eyes thrilled her from head to foot. Tess passed down the lane, glad for Myra, glad for Teola and her child--glad for everyone. She was still singing when she
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crossed the wide plank that spanned the mud-cellar creek. She saw Professor Young leaning against the shanty door, and the memory of their last conversation, when he had asked her to marry him, made her pause awkwardly, the color flying in rich waves from the red forehead ringlets to the shapely neck. Young took her hand, looking searchingly into her
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face. "Where is the child?" he demanded in low tones. "I took it back to its ma--she wanted it," was all Tess replied. "Air ye comin' in and tell me about Daddy?" "Your father will--" Tessibel halted, with her hand on the door, waiting for him to finish. "Go in, child. I will tell you--in there." He spoke slowly, deliberately....
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Tess gazed at him, trying to read his thoughts. Nevertheless she obeyed him, pressing open the door with an impatient movement of her head. She had waited so long for just this moment. To know when the big, humpbacked father was coming home seemed more precious to Tessibel than all the uplifting joy she had experienced that day. Her eyes
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swept the hut; then they rested in a frightened glance upon Daddy Skinner seated on his own stool. He was smiling at her with misty, shaggy-browed eyes, his lips showing his dark teeth with each incoming breath. Deforest Young saw the girl bound forward, and the red curls shroud the huge fisherman's face. Tears blurred his sight. He turned into
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the day to regain his control. "Ye be here to stay!" gasped Tess, sitting up presently, and holding the thick neck with her curved arm. "Ye ain't never goin' back to Auburn?" "Nope; I's here to stay with my pretty brat.... Air ye glad to see yer Daddy?" "Glad! glad! Daddy, daddy! I air a-goin' to be your brat till
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we dies!" She had nestled, as in the old days, completely under his chin hair, crying silently, deeply, with low-caught sobs. For a long time they sat thus, until the man outside entered and spoke to them. * * * * * Tess jubilantly cooked the fish for dinner, spattering the bacon fat upon the floor. She smiled alternately at
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her father and Professor Young; she caroled like a spring bird with bursts of happy song. Then they three sat down to the table to eat the homely squatter fare. A sickening longing swept over Deforest Young. To have the love of this girl he would be willing to live in the shanty--to eat just such food for the rest
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of his life. But during the few days past, he had fully realized that he could not make Tess love him. He would never speak of love to her again. Yet it pleased him to remain with them through the long afternoon, with Tess near him to watch the sun sink behind the western hill. He had drawn on his
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coat preparatory to leaving, and stood with Tessibel's hand in his. A sharp, quick knock on the door stayed his farewell. Orn Skinner lifted the latch, and Frederick Graves entered at the fisherman's bidding. His face was drawn and pale, his eyes red from weeping. Tessibel's heart bounded in sympathy, but she remained backed against the shanty wall until his
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eyes searched hers for a welcome. He spoke first. "My sister is dead," he said slowly, his voice breaking as the tears came into the dark eyes; "and my father sent you this." Daddy Skinner was seated blinkingly on his stool; Professor Young, hat in hand, waited for the girl to take the extended paper. But for several seconds she
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stood staring at Frederick, with wide-eyed wonderment. He had said that his beautiful sister was dead, that she had gone with the thin babe to her loved one, even as Myra Longman had gone with Ben Letts. To Tess it was but another answered prayer, showered from Heaven. She felt no thrill of grief; she was only glad that the
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pale, sick mother had had her wish. She took the paper awkwardly, and scanned it with painful embarrassment. "I can't read the writin'," she said, handing it back. "Will ye tell me what it says?" "Oh, I can't, I can't, Tessibel! I am so ashamed, so miserable!" Tess silently handed the paper to Professor Young; then she slipped forward and
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stood close to Frederick, rapidly considering his face with forgiving eyes. Young turned to the student. "Shall I?" An acquiescent nod gave him permission to lift the note and read: "Dear Child: My daughter is dead. Frederick will tell you. If you can forgive me for all I have done against you and your father, will you come here to
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us, and tell Mrs. Graves and myself of the past few weeks. Frederick has told me that he loves you, and of your sacrifice for Teola. I can only say at present that we thank you. Yours in grief and gratitude, Elias Graves. P. S.--When your father comes back, I shall ask you to give him the title of the
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ground upon which your house stands." Professor Young read it slowly, word by word; each breath taken by the four people could be plainly heard in the silence that followed. Frederick broke it. "Tess, will you come to our home, and tell Father and Mother about--Teola?" The name slipped into a whisper from his lips, and, leaning against the hut
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door, he burst into boyish, bitter tears. "Forgive me, please," he murmured; "but it was so awful! And what she must have suffered!... And I didn't know--we none of us knew." He lifted his face, swept them with a heartrending glance, and finished. "She died in the church to-day with the baby." "She air happy to be with the man
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what she loves, ain't she?" said Tess, softly. Frederick grasped her hands, her brilliant smile easing the pain that like a knife stabbed his heart. "You think she was happy to die, Tess?... Tell me all she said.... Did she know she was going away?" For an instant the rapid rush of questions daunted Tessibel. But she sorted them out,
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commencing from the first one to answer them. "Yep, she air happy," she said positively; "awful happy. She wanted to go to her man in the sky.... He were a-waitin' for her every day, and she knowed she were a-goin' to die, 'cause--'cause she prayed every night that God'd take her and the brat." "Prayed? She prayed to die, when
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we all loved her so?" stammered Frederick. "Yep. She were a-lovin' the burnt student better'n anything else. And, when women air a-lovin' like that--" She ceased abruptly, and her own love for him attacked her as lightning attacks an oak in the autumn. Teola Graves had gone willingly to the burnt student, and Myra Longman had loved the ugly fisherman
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with a love that hurt like hers. No one asked the short-skirted, barefooted girl to finish her sentence. The three men understood that her last passionate statement rang from the depths of her woman's heart. Frederick lifted his head. "Tess--Tessibel, I can only say with my father that we all love you for what you have done for her." His
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voice broke. "And for myself, I say again, as I have said many times, that I--I love you--with my whole soul!" His fingers closed over hers in an intense, desperate clasp. How long she had waited for him to tell her this once more! And he had confessed his great love in the presence of Daddy Skinner and the big
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man from the hill. Her father watched her, this child whom but a year before he had left almost a baby. She was a woman now, with a woman's voice and a woman's love. The fisherman passed his hand over his face with a forlorn gesture. Had he found his darling again but to lose her? Impetuously Tess turned toward
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him, and met his misty gaze with her tear-dimmed eyes. The student was still clinging to her hand. "I air Daddy's brat," she whispered. "But I says," and she flashed Frederick a lightning-like glance through the red lashes before she dropped her eyes, and murmured, "but I says, as how I said before, that I air yer squatter." * *
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THE MAGNIFICENT ADVENTURE THE BROKEN GATE THE STORY OF THE COWBOY THE WAY TO THE WEST - OR FIGHT HEART'S DESIRE THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE THE PURCHASE PRICE GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK * * * * * GEORGE W. OGDEN'S WESTERN NOVELS May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. THE BARON OF DIAMOND
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TAIL The Elk Mountain Cattle Co. had not paid a dividend in years; so Edgar Barrett, fresh from the navy, was sent West to see what was wrong at the ranch. The tale of this tenderfoot outwitting the buckaroos at their own play will sweep you into the action of this salient western novel. THE BONDBOY Joe Newbolt, bound out
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by force of family conditions to work for a number of years, is accused of murder and circumstances are against him. His mouth is sealed; he cannot, as a gentleman, utter the words that would clear him. A dramatic, romantic tale of intense interest. CLAIM NUMBER ONE Dr. Warren Slavens drew claim number one, which entitled him to first choice
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of rich lands on an Indian reservation in Wyoming. It meant a fortune; but before he established his ownership he had a bard battle with crooks and politicians. THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE When Jerry Lambert, "the Duke," attempts to safeguard the cattle ranch of Vesta Philbrook from thieving neighbors, his work is appallingly handicapped because of Grace Kerr, one
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of the chief agitators, and a deadly enemy of Vesta's. A stirring tale of brave deeds, gun-play and a love that shines above all. THE FLOCKMASTER OF POISON CREEK John Mackenzie trod the trail from Jasper to the great sheep country where fortunes were being made by the flock-masters. Shepherding was not a peaceful pursuit in those bygone days. Adventure
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