While Tess was making her call at Longman's, Helen Young was entertaining her fiance, Ebenezer Waldstricker.
"I shall never be satisfied until Bishop is back in Auburn, Helen," said he, snipping the end from a long cigar.
The girl held up her needle and deftly shot the thread through the eye of it.
"He's sure to be, dear," she soothed. "Here's Deforrest!" She hesitated, laid down her work and stood up.
Professor Young shook hands with Waldstricker as his sister went to his side smilingly.
"Ebenezer wants me to go down to Skinner's with him," she explained. "Won't you come along, too, Forrie?"
The lawyer threw an interrogative glance at the churchman.
"Certainly," he answered. "Why? Anything particular?"
The question was asked of Waldstricker, who lifted his shoulder with a long breath.
"Yes," he replied. "I've a little plan to get hold of Bishop! I'm certain sooner or later he'll land back here among his own people. If I can whet their appetites with money, they'll turn him over the moment he appears."
"No doubt," observed Young. "But the Skinners--What have the Skinners to do with him?"
Waldstricker thought a moment, inhaling the smoke the while.
"The girl, Tessibel, who sings at church might be of great assistance to me," he said presently.
"How?" interjected Deforrest.
"Why, she goes among the squatters daily and would be likely to know if Bishop sneaked into any of their huts. If I can interest her in the reward--I've an idea she'll be of service to me."
"Perhaps," responded Young, in a meditative manner.
Waldstricker looked at Helen smilingly. "I think I started to give you an account of what happened yesterday," he said. "Did I tell you I came to see you, dear?"
Helen sat down and resumed her work.
"Yes, Ebenezer, but I was out!" she smilingly nodded. "I'm so sorry. If I'd known, I wouldn't have gone to town!"
"It didn't matter at all." Then he laughed, coloring a little. "Of course, I always hate missing you."
A loving look passed between the two, and Waldstricker proceeded, "But as long as I was here, I thought I'd speak to Skinner. On the way down the hill I met his daughter coming up. Rather startling personality, that girl! But she's woefully ignorant!"
"She hasn't had much chance, poor little thing," excused Helen. "She really has a beautiful voice, though."
"So I've noticed on Sundays."
"And she studies every minute," Professor Young thrust in, "and is so eager to learn; she's advanced amazingly!" He laughed in a reminiscent manner.
"One day," he proceeded, much amused, "she ran up the hill after me. I didn't notice her until she was at my side, all out of breath. 'Well, some little girl's been running,' I said."