"How long has he been here?" asked Young, instead of answering her question.
"Ever since spring," sighed Tessibel.
"Was he here that day when Mr. Waldstricker and my sister—"
"Yep." The girl's whisper was very low.
"And when Burnett came too, I suppose?"
"Yep, I hid 'im ... Daddy loved 'im, Daddy did."
She began to cry softly. Her confession had taken her mind back to the huge figure on the bed.
"I wanted to go with Daddy," she sobbed. "I didn't know—I thought I couldn't live without 'im."
Stooping, Deforrest gathered the mourning little one into his arms, and seating himself in the big rocker, pressed his cheek against her hair in sympathy. Patiently he waited, holding her thus while the mercy of her flowing tears dulled the first sharp edge of her grief.
Bye and bye the sobs ceased, and a faint, catchy little voice struggled up through the red curls to the man's ears.