"Yer's and Flukey's, Flea."
"Where air it?"
"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch for yer short legs from
the squatter's settlement, and many a day when bread's short and water's
plenty, many a night when the cold'll bite yer legs, and many a tear--"
"Be we leavin' Pappy Lon?" demanded the girl.
"Yep."
"Forever and forever?"
"For Flukey, yep; but for yerself--"
Flea stared in speechless wonder and fright. "I don't want to stay
without Flukey!" she cried.
"I ain't a tellin' ye what ye want to do; only how the shadders run. But
that's a weary day off. The good land be yers and Flukey's for the
seekin' of it."
"Air Flukey goin' to be catched a thievin'?"
"Yep, some day."
"With Pappy Lon?"
"Nope, with yerself, Flea."
"I ain't no thief," replied Flea sulkily. "I ain't never took nothin',
not so much as a chicken! And Flukey wouldn't nuther if Pappy Lon didn't
make him."
From behind Screech Owl's shrouding gray hair two black eyes glittered.
"The good land, the good land!" whispered the madwoman. "It be all
comin' for yerself and Flukey."
[Illustration: "AM I ON THE RIGHT ROAD TO GLENWOOD?"]
"Be I goin' to--" Flea sat back on her bare toes, her face suddenly
darkening with rage. "I won't go with him! I won't, Screechy, if he was
in every old eye in yer head! I won't, so there!"
The darkness hid from Screech Owl the glint in Flea's eyes.
"Who be it Lon said you was goin' with, Flea?"
Scraggy must have forgotten her conversation with Lem but an hour or two
before; for she evinced no knowledge of any man interested in Flea.
"A one-armed man. Pappy says I'm to be his woman. Be I, Screechy?"
"Nope; but I see a hook a whirlin' in the air into the good land, a
whirlin' and a whirlin' after ye. I see it a stealin' on ye in the night
when ye think ye're safe. I see the sharp p'int of it a stickin' into
yer soft flesh--"
"Don't, don't!" pleaded Flea in a smothered voice. "Ye said as how I
were goin' with Flukey to a good land down behind the college hill."
"So ye be," assented the Owl; "but after ye get to the good land the
sharp p'int of the hook'll come and rip at ye. I see it a haulin' ye
back away from them what ye loves--"
Flea grasped the woman's arm between her fingers and pressed nearer
Scraggy with a startled cry. The cat, hissing, lashed a bushy tail from
side to side. His eyes flashed green, and a cry came from Flea's lips.
In another instant she was speeding away down the rocks.