The Secret of the Storm Country - Page 171/260

* * * * * Tessibel's baby was one week old. This afternoon she lay partially dressed on the cot while Andy was plying his noiseless way about the kitchen. He stopped a moment on the journey to the stove and smiled at the young mother.

"I bet he comes today," said he. "You'd better be gettin' that sorrow offen yer face, brat."

"I ain't right sorryful, Andy," she answered. "I was jest thinkin' of all the good things Mr. Young air done for me, an' hopin' he'd get you free, too. Mebbe when Spring comes, Andy, you can run in the woods with me!"

"I air prayin' for it every day, kid."

"When you ain't afeered of Auburn any more," said the girl, after a moment's silence, "we'll go away from this shanty, an' mebbe we can both work. That'd be nice, eh, Andy?"

"Anything'd be nice if I air with you, an' the baby, brat," he choked.

"Oh, you'll stay with us all right," smiled Tessibel. "Daddy left me to take care of you an' I air goin' to do it!"

Conversation lagged for a time. The dwarf poured out a cup of tea, and placed a large slice of bread on a plate with some potatoes and meat. These he took to the bedside.

"I don't know what we'd a done without Jake," he observed, drawing his chair to the table.

Tess was beginning to eat a late dinner. Between bites she smilingly assented.

"Jake air a awful good man.... Andy, ain't the baby stirrin' on the chair?"

The dwarf went to the improvised cradle and carefully drew away the blanket.

"He wants turnin' on 'is other side, that air all." With deft fingers he rolled the baby boy over, placed the sugar rag between the twisting lips, and went back to his dinner.

"Jake was tellin' me this morning," she continued, "Sandy Letts got three years and a half in Auburn."

"That'll be dreadful for him," the little man responded, thinking of his lonely years in prison. "But body-snatchin' air an awful thing. Reckon he won't try it again when he gets out.... Eh, kid?"

"At any rate, he won't be after us for a while," she replied, sighing contentedly.

"Well, I must slick up a bit," Andy announced presently. "I want to get the shanty fixed. Young'd think I weren't doin' right by ye, if 'tain't red up, brat."

"When I tell him all ye've done," she smiled affectionately, "I bet he'll be praisin' ye."

Then they were silent until the little man'd gathered and washed the few dishes.