The next morning the barge approached the squatter settlement, and Fledra was once more on deck. She wondered what Floyd had said when he received her letter, and if he believed that she had gone of her own free will. What had Ann said—and Horace? The thought of her lover caused bitter tears to rain between her fingers. But she stifled her sobs, and a tiny, happy flutter brightened her heart when she thought of how she had saved them all. Below she heard a conversation between Lem and Lon, and listened.
She first heard the voice of the squatter: "It's almost over, Lem, and then we'll go back to stealin' when ye get Flea. She can be a lot of use to us."
"But what ye goin' to say to that feller if he comes up tomorry?"
"He can go to hell!" growled Cronk.
"And ye won't give the gal to him?"
"Nope."
In her fancy Fledra could see Lon draw the pipe from his lips to mutter the words to Lem.
"If ye take his money, Lon," gurgled Lem, "ye might have to fight with him if he don't get Flea."
The listening girl crept to the staircase and strained her ears.
"I kin fight," replied Lon laconically.