Tess turned to her parent impatiently.
"I ain't nuther talkin' about Professor Young, Daddy. I ain't goin' to tell him Andy's here 't all! I'll tell you both who I mean right now."
The men leaned forward, the dwarf's head shooting out like a turtle's.
"Who d'ye mean?" he entreated brokenly.
The color mantled Tessibel's brow and swept in rich waves over the lovely, earnest face.
"Jesus," she breathed radiantly, flashing her eyes from one to the other. "Jesus jest air a dotin' on ye, Andy, ye poor little dub ye! He allers dotes on folks in trouble."
"Shucks!" grunted Andy, and "Holy thunderin' Moses!" fell from Daddy Skinner.
Tessibel stood up, an angry glint in her eyes.
"Ye can say, 'Shucks!' if ye want to, Andy, 'cause you don't know nothin'; but, Daddy Skinner, you ought to be ashamed of yerself. Why, he's the man what got ye out of jail! I couldn't a done nothin', an' Professor Young couldn't a done nothin' uther if Jesus hadn't helped him. An' now ye're saying, 'Holy thunderin' Moses,' just's if ye didn't believe it."
The fisherman drew a shaking hand across his shaggy chin whiskers.