The Secret of the Storm Country - Page 218/260

"Ye want to nurse 'em a long time, 'cause they cost money, them flowers did. They ain't no wild posies!"

"They're awful pretty," she thanked him. "I'll put them in water right away."

While she was arranging the flowers, Sandy got up.

"How do ye like my new togs, kid?" he asked, pivoting around and around on one heel.

"You look very nice," replied Tessibel, gathering courage from his good nature.

"Ye bet I do," grinned Letts. "I air some guy when I air all flashed out in new things. Got all this with Waldstricker's money. Lord, brat--" Here the man reseated himself. "Ye ought to hear that bloke bluster when he found out ye'd got Andy back. Now for me--I were glad, for I knowed all along the dwarf didn't kill Eb's daddy. But in this world I find ye got to look out for yerself first. That air how I got the five thousand."

"I see!" flared Tess, her disapproval of his spying getting the better of her fear. "But your blood money won't do you any good."

"Won't do me no good? My five thousand won't do me no good? What do ye mean, brat? 'Course it'll do me lots of good. I air a rich man, I air. It's goin' to buy us a real home, kid, frame house with plastered walls an' shingled roof, painted red an' yeller. All what I want now air my woman, an' I've come fer ye, Tess."

The girl's heart sank. She glanced about helplessly. What could she say or do? There was no other human being within call. In hasty retrospection, her mind swept back to Ben Letts. She shuddered as she remembered the many times he'd made the same demand upon her. And then, she as suddenly remembered how, during those days, she had been saved from men like Ben and Sandy, and courage came again in response to her silent call for help.

"Ye heard what I said, brat, didn't ye?" demanded Sandy, leaning back and throwing one leg over the other. "I air here fer ye."

"Yes, I heard."

"An' ye're comin', ain't ye, kid?" ... His voice was deep and persuasive by reason of the passion that surged through him.... "I air a little sorry fer bein' mean to ye afore, brat, an' now I air rich ye can forgive it, can't ye?"

He bent forward and held out his heavy hands, palms up, ingratiatingly.