"I'll treat her as she deserves," snapped Waldstricker.... "If Deforrest weren't so stubborn and hadn't rented Graves' place for the next four years, I'd do my best to oust the Skinners from that property.... One thing is certain, the old witch has got to go."
Helen sighed, exasperated. Her husband's face was crimson and the cords in his neck as rigid as taut ropes.
"Ebenezer dear, why will you get yourself into such a state of excitement over a set of people who'll never come into your life at all?" she begged of him.
There was gentle reproof in her tones. Ebenezer glanced at her sharply.
"Never come into my life at all!" he repeated. "Does this look as if they never came into my life, eh?" He leaned over and tapped Madelene's letter. "Am I going to see my sister—"
"Madelene is probably mistaken," interjected Helen, hopefully.
"It'll be better for the squatter girl if she is," answered Ebenezer, whirling and going out.
Now it happened that Tessibel was standing outside the cottage clipping her hedge when she heard the sound of horses' hoofs coming down the lane. She stepped to the shanty door, gave the sound which warned Andy of a stranger's approach, and was back again when Waldstricker's great black horse came in sight. Opposite her, he drew his steed to a standstill and bowed curtly. Tess had never seen his lips so sternly set, not even when he had dragged her from Mother Moll's hut. She made no move to go to him.
"I came to speak to you, Miss Skinner," he called. "Come here?"
Then Tessibel went a few steps nearer, without laying down her shears. Looking up into his face, she asked,