"Yep; but we didn't know that you was here, Flea."
"Then you won't take anything—now, will you?"
"We don't go till you come with us, Flea!" Lon moved nearer her as he spoke. "Ye be my brat, and ye'll come home with yer pappy!"
Fledra choked for breath.
"I can't go with you tonight," she replied, bending over in supplication. "Flukey's sick here, and I have to stay."
"Sick! Sick, ye say?" Cronk exclaimed.
"Yes, he's been in bed ever since we left home, and he can't walk, and I won't go without him."
"I'll take ye both," said Lon ferociously. "I'll come after ye, and I'll kill the man what keeps ye away from me! I'm a thinkin' a man can have his own brats!"
Fledra did not set up an argument upon this point. She wanted to get the men out of the house, so that she might think out a plan to save her brother and herself.
"Ye'll have to let Flukey stay until he gets well, and then mebbe we'll come back."