But Dan Jordan, with a mighty yell, triumphantly taken up by his classmen, grasped the hat from the squatter's head. The smiling, open face of Frederick Graves was before them. The sophomores never quite puzzled out how the freshman president was in his chair at the banquet, and directly in front of him in the place of honor was a huge dish of eels.
Shaking the snow from her shoulders like a great dog in a storm, Tess knocked softly on the Longman shanty door. Mrs. Longman had gone to the city with Satisfied, and Myra, with the whining brat in her arms, welcomed her.
One whole week had passed since Tess had seen the student—seven long interminable days since—and now she had come to ask Myra Longman some of the mysterious questions about the kiss that Frederick had given her. Myra relinquished the child to her and the little fellow sank to sleep under Tessibel's crooning voice. His regular breathing told her that he slept; she placed him in the box and sat thoughtfully down.
"Air Ben Letts been here lately?" she asked after a pause.
Myra shook her head.
"He ain't got no time for such as the brat and me," she replied bitterly.
Tess waited until Myra had ceased scattering the shanty chairs in her rage.
"Did he say as how he loved ye that night in the storm on the ragged rocks?" she asked presently.
"Yep, he did say it, he did," answered Myra.