Only Fledra's sobs broke the silence of the next five minutes. She dared not ask Lon Cronk any questions.
Presently, without warning, the man turned upon her.
"He's a comin' here tonight, mebbe."
"Ye mean—oh, Pappy Lon! Let me go to Lem! I'll go, and I won't say no word!... I'll go now!" She rose, her knees trembling.
"Sit down!" Lon commanded.
Used to obeying even his look, Fledra dropped back to the floor.
"It ain't given to ye to go to Lem jest 'cause ye want to," he said. "As I says, that young feller is comin' here tonight to talk with me and Lem. I already told him, that he could take ye; but Lem hain't yet give his word."
Fledra glanced out of the window at the scow. Lem was there, arranging the boat for her reception in his crude, homely way. She was sure the scowman would not give her up. The thought brought Ann more vividly into her mind. If Everett came for her, and Lem held to his desire, Miss Shellington's happiness would be assured. The handsome young lawyer would return to Tarrytown, back to the woman who loved him.
Fledra rose with determination in her face. Suddenly Lem had loomed before her as a friend. She moved uneasily about the shanty, Lon making no move to stay her. For awhile she worked aimlessly, with furtive glances at Cronk.
"Set down, Flea," ordered Lon presently. "Ye give me the twitches. If ye can't set still, crawl to bed till," he glanced her over, as she paused to catch his words,—"till one of yer young men'll come to git ye."