Tessibel shook her head, displaying her teeth in smile which quickly faded.
"Squatter's brats don't never go to school," she muttered.
She edged away from the professor, raising her eyes pleadingly to his. The man read the desire the girl dared not put into words, but without heeding her glance he proceeded to question her.
"Would you like to go to school?"
"Nope, all I want air Daddy home in the shanty. That air enough for me."
She suddenly turned her face away toward the door that led to the upper cells.
"But if I assure you," urged Professor Young, "that your father will positively get another trial, which is all that can be done at present, would you then like to study?"
A definite shake of her head and another quick glance was Tessibel's answer.
"I wants to read the Bible," she said, presently turning toward the professor; "it air a dum hard book to read, I hear."
Professor Young tugged at the corners of his mustache to keep down a smile.