After a few more compliments, through which Tessibel flirted her way into the big man's regard, the officer rose to his feet.
"Little lady, I came here for a specific reason," he announced. Unquenchable mischief shone upon him from smiling, enquiring eyes.
"Oh," giggled Tess, "anyway, I air awful glad ye come."
The grim lips of the deputy curled upward again. Tess adored his mouth twisted at the corners like that.
"I might as well get it over first as last," ventured Burnett. "But I'm more'n anxious you shouldn't be mad at me. The fact is we've traced a man down from Auburn—"
Tessibel interrupted him, startled; at least she acted so.
"From Auburn!" she gasped.
"Yes, ma'am, a murderer! Andy Bishop. Little man like this," the warden explained, measuring a short space from the floor. "By some means or other he wriggled his way out of prison—"
Tessibel's lips trembled and she turned her eyes away. Old memories rushed over her, memories of the cold winter when she'd been alone in the shack.
"An' ye thought 'cause Daddy'd been up there once, the man must a run right straight here, huh?" she accused, with a sob in her voice.