"Yep; to-day. He air a-growin' a little more pert."
"Glad for Myry," was Tessibel's comment.
"Ye ain't heard nothin' from yer Daddy, have ye?" asked Ben, presently.
"Yep. I had a letter from him. He air a-comin' to the shanty as soon as he air out."
"He ain't a-goin' to get out!"
"Yep, he air; sure he air."
"Air he a-knowin' of yer brat?" Ben was staring at the child.
Tess stared back at him. She had forgotten that she had intimated that the baby was hers.
"I ain't tellin' Daddy nothin'.... His troubles be enough for him."
Her tone was low and bitter. She turned the babe with its back to the heat to gain time. She had almost decided to run away—she could not face Myra's fate.