In another moment he was leaning over her. He brushed back the tousled hair from the girl's forehead, and pulled away the long curls seeped with blood.
"I air yer friend, brat," he whispered. "Tell me 'bout it."
Tessibel had to confide in somebody.
"I'll get a rag first an' wipe ye off," said the dwarf. "My, but ye did get a cut, didn't ye?... What did it?"
Gently he began to wash away the crimson stain from her face and neck.
"Somebody hit ye?" he demanded presently.
"Yep."
"Who?... Who dared do it?" The dwarf's face darkened with rage. "Where were the brute that done it?"
"Andy," sobbed Tess, "I air goin' to tell ye somethin'; ye may think I air awful wicked, but—but—Andy, don't tell Daddy, but in the spring I air goin' to—"
"Yep, I know, Tess," he murmured. "I heard the woman yellin' at ye the uther day way through my blankets. But 'tain't nothin' to cry over. God'll bless ye, brat, and God'll bless—it!"