"Well, I'll admit till I saw you I thought—I thought, but now—," a negative gesture with his hand finished his answer.
Tessibel turned withering, tear-wet eyes on her visitor.
"I 'spose ye air thinkin' my Daddy even had something to do with his flyin' the coop?" she flared up. "Air that it?"
"No! No! I didn't think that at all," the under-warden made haste to deny. "I just couldn't think that about your father."
Tessibel dimpled, suddenly glowing like a vivid poppy.
"Thank ye," she whispered, wiping away the tears. "Why! My Daddy wouldn't do nothin' bad for anythin' in the world. He's the best old Daddy livin'."
"Of course he is," vouched the warden, placatingly, "but what I want to know is would you mind, or would it hurt your feelings—The fact is, I came to search this house."
Tess had expected this, and without demurring, flashed forth,
"Ye mean ye want to go 'round it, don't ye, lookin' in all the corners an' places; air that it, sir?"
Burnett acknowledged this by a nod.