Staring at the speaker, Fledra fell back against the wall.

“Granny Cronk ain’t dead!  She ain’t!  You’re lying, Lem Crabbe!”

“Ask yer daddy, if ye don’t believe me,” grunted Lem.

Fledra cast imploring eyes to Lon.

“Yer granny went dead a long time ago,” verified the squatter.

“Then I can stay with you, Pappy Lon, just for a little time.  Oh, Pappy Lon,” tears rose slowly, and sobs caught her throat as she advanced toward him, “I’ll cook for you, and I’ll work days and nights, if I can live with you!” She was so near him that she allowed a trembling hand to fall upon his arm.  But he spurned it, shaking it off as he growled: 

“Don’t tech me!  Set down and shut up!”

She passed over the repulse and sobbed on: 

“But, Pappy Lon, I’d rather die, I’d rather throw myself in the water, than stay with Lem in this boat!  I want to tell you how I’ve prayed—­Sister Ann taught me to.  I always asked that Flukey might stay in Tarrytown, and that nothing would ever hurt Mr. Shellington.  I never dared pray for myself, because—­because God had enough to do to help all the other ones, and because I never asked anything for myself till you found me.  I want to stay right in the shanty with you, Pappy Lon.  I hate Lem—­oh, how I hate him!”

Lem coughed and wheezed.

“I guess we’d better shet her claptrap once and fer all,” he said.  “Lon, ye leave me to settle with Flea—­I know how.”

The squatter silenced Lem with a look and rose lumberingly.  As he struck a match and made toward the steps, Fledra followed close after him.

“Pappy Lon, if you’ll stay with me here on the boat till we get to Ithaca, then I’ll do what you say when we get there.  You sha’n’t go and leave me now with Lem, you sha’n’t, you sha’n’t!” Her voice rose to a shriek, and her small body trembled like a leaf in a wind.  So loud were her cries, and so fiercely did she clutch at Lon’s coat, that he turned savagely upon her.

“I’ll do what I please.  Shet up, or Middy’ll hear ye.  Git yer hands off en me!”

“Pappy Lon, if you leave me with Lem, then I’ll jump in the river!”

She bit her lips to stifle the sobs; but still clung beseechingly to his coat.

Lon stepped backward from the chair, and whirled about so quickly that his coat was jerked from Fledra’s grasp.

“Then I’ll take Fluke, and what I won’t do to him ain’t worth speakin’ ’bout.”  He glanced at her face and stopped.  Never had he seen such an expression.  Her bleeding lips and flaring eyes sent him a step from her.

“If you leave me with Lem,” she hissed her repetition, “then I’ll jump in the river!” Seeing that he hesitated, she went on, “You stay right in here with Lem and me, Pappy Lon, and when we get to the hut I’ll do what you tell me.”

Fledra heard Lem drop the old boot he had been mending and advance toward her.  She turned upon him, and the scowman halted.