"You great brute! It's like you to strike a sick man," the white lips taunted, as soon as their owner could speak.
The slurring words brought a hot blush of shame to Ebenezer's face.
"I'm sorry, Fred," he stammered at length. "I was so angry I must've forgotten you're not well. I'm glad I didn't strike you. But what are we going to do, now?... If we don't tell Madelene, how about the Skinner girl?... Won't she make trouble for us?"
"No, she won't say anything, I'm sure!" Frederick's voice was low, but positive. "She doesn't want to have anything more to do with me. What she said about not wanting me was true. She wouldn't stop to speak to me, even, until I threatened to tell you.... I suppose Young's made her so happy she's glad to forget me."
"What gets me is how you and Young, decent fellows, got mixed up with such a girl," Ebenezer growled meditatively.
"If you knew Tess as I do, ... you'd understand," wailed Frederick. "She's the dearest, bravest, sweetest girl in the world."
"Bosh!... Now, the question is about getting you home. My buggy's up in the road. Do you think you can walk there?"
"I guess so."
With his brother-in-law's help, Frederick got to his feet. Slowly, leaning on the big man's supporting arm, he made his way, with many pauses for rest, to the waiting vehicle.
Waldstricker put his companion into the carriage and unhitched the horse. Instead of getting in beside him, he handed him the reins, saying as he did so,