For an hour Horace refused to let her leave him, and when Fledra did go back to the sick brother her face was radiant with happiness.  Floyd was not prepared for the rush of words or the passionate appeal with which she met him.

Blinking his eyes, the boy waved his sister back.

“I can’t make out what you’re saying, Flea.”

“I’m going to marry Brother Horace!” She stopped, and began again.  “I’m going to marry Horace—­oh, so soon, Fluke!  And aren’t you glad?  And then they can’t take us away!”

It was the first intimation Floyd had had of their danger.  He rose up, standing upon his legs tremblingly.

“Has anybody been trying to take us away, Flea?”

Then Fledra realized what she had said, and hesitated in fear.

“I forgot, you weren’t to know, Fluke.  Will you wait till I call Brother Horace?...  Fluke, don’t be trembling like that!  Sit down, Fluke!...  Fluke!”

Floyd’s face had paled, even to the tips of his ears.  He realized now that danger had hung over the fair young sister and he had not known of it.

“It’s Pappy Lon, and ye never told me, Flea, and that’s why ye been so unhappy!  He’ll take ye away because yer his kid, and Brother Horace can’t do anything.”

“Yes, he can, Fluke—­yes, he can!  He loves me, and I love him, and he’s going to marry me!  Nobody can’t take a wife away from her man!...  Fluke, don’t wabble like that!  Brother Horace!  Brother Horace!”

Fledra’s voice reached the dreaming man, bending over his desk, and he bounded to answer her call.  He found her supporting her brother, white and shivering, with eyes strained by fright.

“I told him,” gasped Fledra looking up; “but I didn’t mean to.”

“Told him what?”

“Pappy Lon,” muttered Floyd, “comin’ for Flea!”

Horace caught the words in dismay.

He placed the suffering boy on the divan and bent close.  In low tones he said that the squatter in some mysterious way had found where they were, and that he had come for them.  He began at the beginning, explaining to the boy Lon’s demand upon him.  He refrained, however, from mentioning Everett, because of the pain to his sister.  He had just finished the story, when Ann softly opened the door and came in.

“But I insist that you will place your faith in me, Floyd.  I shall see to it that neither you nor your sister leave me—­unless you go of your own free will,” Horace concluded.

“If Pappy Lon takes one of us,” muttered Floyd, as Miss Shellington calmed him with sweet interest, “let him take me.  I’m as good as dead, anyhow.  I want Flea to marry Brother Horace.”

“And so she will,” assured Ann.  “Now then, Dear, try and sleep.”

During the rest of the afternoon Ann held conferences with her brother, fluttering back and forth from him to Floyd, and then to Fledra.  She noted that the strained expression had gone from the girl’s face, and uttered a little prayer of thanksgiving when she heard Horace’s hearty laugh ring out once more.