"I want to talk to you before I sit down," she said in a low tone. "What are you going to do with me?"
Just then the scow lurched, and the whistle of the tug ahead screamed a farewell to Tarrytown. Fledra heard the grinding of the boat against the landing as it was pulled slowly away, and she sprang to the window. She took one last glimpse of the promised land, one lingering look at the twinkling lights, which shone like glow-worms and seemed to signal sympathy to the terrified girl. Finally she turned a tearless face to Lon.
"I want to know what you're going to do with me when we get to Ithaca. Can I stay awhile with Granny Cronk?"
She glanced fearfully from Lon to the scowman, whose lips were now free of the nails. His wide smile disclosed his darkened teeth as he stammered:
"Yer Granny Cronk's been chucked into a six-foot hole in the ground, and ye won't see her no more."
Staring at the speaker, Fledra fell back against the wall.
"Granny Cronk ain't dead! She ain't! You're lying, Lem Crabbe!"
"Ask yer daddy, if ye don't believe me," grunted Lem.
Fledra cast imploring eyes to Lon.
"Yer granny went dead a long time ago," verified the squatter.