She threw a glance at the ceiling. Daddy Skinner had seen her mother. They were going away together. If they would but take her with them! She turned unsteadily to go she knew not where, but the sound of her father's voice brought her quickly back.
"Brat," he faltered, "lean down—I want to tell ye somethin'."
Tess bent her ear close to the thick blue lips.
"I air here, Daddy! Tess air here," she mourned.
Long, laboring breaths moved the red curls hanging about the girl's rigid face.
"I said as how I air here, Daddy," she murmured again, touching him.
But Daddy Skinner was once more gazing into the dark rafters, his jaws apart, the greyness of death settling about his mouth.
"Daddy! Daddy!" screamed Tess. "Don't look like that! Don't go away—oh, Daddy, please!... Andy! Andy!"
The dwarf slipped down the ladder, and dropped at the side of the bed. The dog roused from his nap by the stove was already there, nuzzling his tawny head against his distressed friend, while he made inarticulate sounds of sympathy in his deep throat.
"Pal Skinner!" Andy cried, white with apprehension. "Give us a word, old horse."