From the Valley of the Missing Part 52

"Then think and listen to me. I have an idea in my mind that we can take the girl away from that house, if not tomorrow, at least in a few days."

Lem's eyes glistened, and Lon placed his clay pipe carefully upon the table.

"Lip it out, then, Mister," said the latter; "and, if me and Lem's agreein' with ye, then we'll help ye."

Everett moved uneasily in the creaking chair. He did not desire to d.i.c.ker with these ruffians; but it was necessary, if he wished to carry out his plans concerning Fledra.

"The boy is likely to die any moment. The girl is the only one who can help you, Mr. Cronk." Everett had meaning in his voice, and his words made Lem swallow hard.

"I was a thinkin' that myself," ruminated Lon.

"The girl idolizes her brother and Mr. Sh.e.l.lington. If you could make her understand that they would otherwise both be killed through your instrumentality, she would leave the house of her own free will, I'm sure."

Lon, grimacing with delight, bounded up and faced Lem.

"That be so! That comes of gittin' a lawyer what's got stuff in his head, ye see, Lem. I told ye that when ye said as how we could get them kids without spendin' no money."

"You will have to use great care, both of you," Everett urged, "and it only means for you to take the girl, as you first planned, to Ithaca; and I will come after her. You will both have your money, and our business together will be at an end." Lem laughed, but with no sound.

"Just how to get this girl is more than I have figured out," Everett continued; "but it might be well for me to try and get a letter to her.

I have been a steady visitor at Sh.e.l.lington's home for many years. We are hardly upon good terms now; but I could manage it, if one of you men would write it. Make the letter strong, and you will gain your ends. You may bring it to my office tomorrow, Mr. Cronk." He rose, b.u.t.toned up his raincoat, and went out, leaving two gaping men looking after him.

Since the papers had been served upon him, Horace had had no peace of mind. The solemn deputy loitering about the home menaced the whole future. It sickened him when he forced his imagination to dwell upon Fledra's future, if she were dragged back to Ithaca, and he had rather place Floyd in his grave than give him into the hands of the squatter.

Suddenly, one morning, he took a great resolution, and no sooner had he made up his mind to take the one step that would change his whole life than he called Ann to tell her about it.

"I'm going to marry Fledra," he said, catching his breath.

Ann dropped her hands fearfully; but intense interest gathered on her face.

"I can save her no other way," he went on, almost in excuse, noting her glance. "And you must have seen, Ann, dear, that I love the child. Sit down here and let me tell you about it."

He began at the beginning, telling her of his early growing love, of his desire to make the squatter child his wife. Ann allowed him to narrate his story impulsively, without interruption.

Then she said gently:

"Horace, dear, have you told her that you love her?"

"Yes; but I am going to tell her again this morning."

"Ask her now," suggested Ann eagerly, and she rose.

Horace found Fledra with Floyd, and she lifted her eyes confidingly to his with a smile. For a long time he had been so tender, so loving, that the specter bred and fostered by Everett Brimbecomb's kisses had nearly vanished.

"Floyd is so much better this morning!" she said. Her words were well chosen, and she p.r.o.nounced her brother's new name carefully.

Floyd held out his hand and raised himself slowly up.

"Look, Brother Horace!" he cried eagerly. "Look--just this morning I've been able to stand up! Sister Ann says in a few days I can walk."

Horace held the thin, white fingers in his for an instant.

"So you will, boy. It won't be long before you can get out."

The words startled Fledra. Not until the trouble of Lon's coming had she wished that Floyd might linger in the sickroom. The man outside, watching every movement in the house, frightened her. She knew that when her brother was well enough he and she would be called away for the court's decision as to their future.

"Floyd, will you spare your sister just a few moments? I want to talk with her."

"Course I will, Brother Horace. Scoot along, Fledra!"

"This way, child," whispered Horace. "I've something--oh, such a dear something!--to say to you."

They quietly pa.s.sed the deputy, who only raised his eyes, smiled at Fledra, and dropped his gaze again to his paper. When Horace's door was closed, Horace took Fledra into his embrace and kissed her again and again. She loved the warmth of his arms, and the delight of his kisses caused her to rest unresisting until he chose to speak.

"Fledra, dear, will you marry me--immediately?"

His question brought her to rigidity.

"You mean--"

"I mean that all our troubles are going away."

Fledra drew slowly from him.

"How can our troubles go away?" she asked.

"By your consenting."

"I told you once, and more than once, that I couldn't tell you. Won't you ever understand?"

But Horace did not loosen his hold upon her. He drew the dark head against him tenderly.

"You misunderstood, Fledra. I am going to trust you in everything. I am going to put all my faith in you, and to save you and your brother from a fearful life. I must make you my wife!"

Fledra drew a long breath. All the stumbling pet.i.tions she had made to Heaven were answered by those few words. At last, to be Horace's wife, to save Flukey, and to protect Ann, who would now have back her lover!

It seemed to the young girl, in this flas.h.i.+ng moment of thought, that all the clouds of the last few months had floated over their heads and away.

"It will take a few days before I can arrange our marriage," explained Horace. "One reason for not arranging today is that I have to run down to New York for two or three days; and then, too, I must be careful not to let anyone know of our plans. I want you to talk with my sister. I have told her that I love you."

"Was she sorry?" whispered Fledra.

"No--very, very glad!"

"And can I tell Floyd?"

"Yes, just as soon as you like. I have an idea your happiness will go far to make him well."