At three o'clock the next morning a boat left the lighthouse at the head
of Cayuga Lake and was rowed toward the western shores. As before, two
men and a boy were in it. The lad was still at the rudder, while the men
swiftly cut the water stroke by stroke. For three miles down the lake no
one spoke; but when the boat scraped the shore in front of his hut Lon
broke the silence.
"It weren't a bad haul tonight, were it, Lem?" he said almost jovially.
"And tomorry ye come up to the shanty for the dividin'. Ye know I
wouldn't cheat a hair o' yer head, don't ye, Lem?"
"Yep, ye bet I know it! And I'm that happy 'cause I'm to take yer gal a
Saturday that I could give ye the hull haul tonight, Lon."
"Ye needn't do that, Lem. I give ye Flea 'cause I want ye to have her,
and I know that you'll make her stand round and mind ye, and if she
don't--"
"Then I'll make her!" put in Lem darkly. "She'll give back no more bites
for my kisses when I get her! I had a woman a long time ago, and when
she didn't mind me I beat her, and beat her and beat her hard! That's
the way to do with women folks!"
"Ye had Scraggy, didn't ye, Lem?" asked Lon, heaping his arm with his
clothing.
Flukey stood silently by, his pale face ghastly in the thin, yellow
moonlight.
"Yep; but Scraggy wasn't no good. I didn't like her. I do like Flea,
and I'd stick to her, too. I'd marry her if ye'd say the word."
"Nope, I ain't a askin' ye to marry her. Yer jest make her stand around,
and break her spirit if ye can. Flea ain't like Flukey; she's hard to
beat a thing out of."
"I know how to handle her!" answered Lem. The silent laughter in his
throat ended in a grunt. He slung a small basket over the hook and went
off up the rocks to his scow.
"Ye can go to bed, Flukey," said Lon. "Ye've done a good night's
work--and mind ye it ain't wicked to take what ye want from them havin'
plenty."
Lon hesitated before proceeding. "And, Flukey, if ye know what's good
for Flea, don't be settin' her up ag'in' my wishes, 'cause if she don't
do what I tell her it'll be the worse for her!... Scoot to bed!"
The boy stood for a moment, opened his lips to plead with the big,
sullen squatter for his sister; but, changing his mind, limped off to
the cabin.
* * * * *
When the shanty was quiet a girl's figure shrouded in black curls
crawled across the hut floor to the loft ladder. Flea ascended quickly;
but halted at the top to catch her breath. She could hear from the other
side of the partition the sound of Lon's heavy snores, and from the
corner came the lighter breathing of her brother. Through the small loft
window the moonbeams shone, and by them Flea could see the boy's dark
head and strong young arm under the masses of thick hair.
She began to crawl toward the cot, wriggling like a huge worm across the
bare boards. Several times she paused, trying to suppress her frightened
heartbeats. Then, lifting her hand, she placed it over Flukey's mouth
and whispered:
"Fluke, Fluke, wake up! It's Flea!"
Flukey made no movement to dislodge his tightly pressed lips from the
trembling fingers. The gray eyes flashed open; but the lad lay perfectly
still.
"Fluke," breathed Flea, "I'm goin' to the cave. Slip on yer pants, and
don't wake Granny Cronk nor Pappy Lon!"
If it had not been that the boy pressed his fingers on the blanket, Flea
would have wondered if her brother had heard.
The lithe form had crept back to the ladder and had disappeared before
Flukey slipped quietly from his bed and drew on the blue-jeans overalls.
As he stole through the kitchen, he could hear the snorts of Granny
Cronk coming from the back room. The outside door stood partly open, and
without hesitation he passed through and closed it after him that the
wind might not slam it. Then he limped along under the shore trees, up a
little hill, and dropped out of sight into an open cavern, where Flea, a
candle in her hand, sat in semidarkness.
The cave had been the children's playground ever since they could
remember. Here they had come to weep over indignities heaped upon them
in childhood; here they had come in joy and in sorrow, and now, in
secret conclave in the early hours of the morning, they had come again.
"Ye're here!" said Flea in feverish haste. "I feared ye'd go to sleep
again."
"Nope; I allers come when ye want me, Flea."
"Did ye steal tonight?"
"Yep."
"What did ye get?"
The boy shuddered, and a strange, hunted expression came into his eyes.
"Spoons, knives, clothes, and things," said he; "and I'd ruther be tore
to pieces by wild bulls than ever steal again!"
His voice was toned with an unnatural ring. Wonderingly, Flea drew
closer to him, the candle dripping white, round drops hot on the brown
hand.
"But Pappy Lon says as how ye must steal, don't he?" she asked
presently.
"Yep, and as how you must go with Lem."
"I won't, I won't! Pappy Lon can kill me first!"
She said this in passionate anger; but, upon holding the candle close to
Flukey's face, she exclaimed:
"Fluke, don't look like that--it scares me!"
He was piercing the dark ends of the cave, his eyes colored like steel.
They were softened only by shots of brown, which ran like chain
lightning through them. The girl's gaze followed her brother's timidly;
for he looked ahead, as if he saw something that threatened her and him.
In spite of her soft touch, the boy looked on and on in his unyielding
fierceness at the fast approaching inevitable, which he had not been
able to stem. That day a change had been ordered in their lives, and it
had come upon him in the shape of a mental blow that hurt him far worse
than if Pappy Lon had flogged him throughout the night.
"If Pappy Lon sends me next Saturday to Lem," Flea ventured in an
undertone, "then ye can't help me much, can ye, Fluke?"
The muscles of the boy's face relaxed, and he drew his knee up to his
chest. "When my leg ain't lame I'm strong enough to lick Lem, if--if--"
"Nope; I ain't no notion for ye to lick him yet, Fluke. Do ye believe in
the sayin's of Screech Owl?"
"Ye mean--"
"Do ye believe what she says when the bats be a flyin' round in her
head, and when she sees the good land for you and myself, Flukey?"
"Did she say somethin' 'bout a good land for us, Flea?"
"Yep."
"Where's the good land?"
"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch from here--and, Flukey, I
ain't a goin' to Lena's, and ye ain't likin' to be a thief. Will ye come
and find the good land with me?"
"Girls can't run away like boys can. They ain't able to bear hurt."
Flea dropped her head with a blush of shame. She knew well that Flukey
could perform wonderful feats which she had been unable to do. Grandma'm
Cronk had told her that her dresses made the difference between her
ability and Flukey's. With this impediment removed, she could turn her
face toward the shining land predicted by Scraggy for Flukey and
herself; she could follow her brother over hills and into valleys, until
at last--
"I could wear a pair of yer pants and be a boy, too, and you could chop
off my hair," she exclaimed. "All I want ye to do is to grow to be a man
quick, and to lick Lem Crabbe if he comes after me. Will ye? Screechy
says he's goin' to follow me."
"I'll lick him anywhere," cried the boy, his tears rising; "and if ye
has to go to him, and he as much as lays a finger on ye, I'll kill him!"
His face was so rigidly drawn during his last threat that he hissed the
words out through his teeth.
"Then ye'd get yer neck stretched," argued Flea, "and I ain't a goin' to
him. We be goin' away to the good land down behind the college hill."
"When?" demanded Flukey.
"Tonight," replied Flea. "Ye go and get some duds for me,--a shirt and
the other pair of yer jeans. Crib Granny's shears to cut my hair off.
Then we'll start. See? And we ain't never comin' back. Pappy Lon hates
me, and he's licked ye all he's goin' to. Git along and crib the duds!"
She rose to her feet, nervously breaking away the little rivers of
grease that had hardened upon her hand and wrist.
"Ye've got to get into the hut in the dark," she said, "and then ye
stand at the mouth of the cave while I put on the things."
"How be we goin' to live when we go?" asked Flukey dully, making no move
to obey her.
"We'll live in the good land where there be lots of bread and 'lasses,"
she soothed; "the two dips in the dish at one time--jest think of that,
ole skate!"
He tried to smile at her forced jocularity; but the hunted expression
saddened his eyes again. To these children, brought up animal-like in
the midst of misery and hate, their world revolved round their stomachs,
too often empty. But this new trouble--the terror of Flea's going with
Lem--had made a man of Flukey, and bread and molasses sank into
oblivion. He was ready to shield her from the thief with his life.
"Get along!" ordered Flea.
Instead of obeying, the boy sat down on a rounded stone. "I'd a runned
away along ago, if it hadn't been, for you, Flea."
"I know that you love me," said the girl brokenly; "I know that, all
right!"
"I couldn't have stood Pappy Lon nor Lem nor none of the rest," groaned
Flukey, "and I was to tell ye tonight to let me go, and I would come
back for ye; but if ye be made to go with Lem--"
"That makes ye take me with you," gasped Flea eagerly. "Huh?"
"Yep, that makes me take ye with me, Flea; but if we go mebbe sometimes
we have to go without no bread."
There was warning in his tones; for he had heard stories of other lads
who had left the settlement and had returned home lank, pale, and
hungry.
"I've been out o' bread here," encouraged Flea. "Granny's put me to bed
many a time, and no supper. Get along, will ye?"
"Yep, I'm goin'; but I can't leave Snatchet. We can take my dorg, Flea.
Where's he gone?"
"We'll take him," promised Flea. "He's in the wood-house. Scoot and get
the duds and him!"
The boy toiled up the rocks to the top of the cave, and Flea heard his
departing steps for a moment, then seated herself in tremulous fear.
Flukey pushed open the cabin door, listened a moment, and stepped in. No
sound save of loud breathing came from the back room where the old woman
slept. At the top of the ladder he could hear Lon snoring loudly. Flukey
crawled upon his knees to a small box against the wall. He pulled out a
pair of brown overalls and a blue shirt, and with great caution crept
back. Almost before Flea realized that he had gone, he was in the cave
again with Snatchet in his arms, displaying his plunder.
"Put 'em on quick!" ordered Flukey. "Here, hold still!" As he spoke, he
gathered Flea's black curls into his fingers and cut them off boylike to
her head. "If Pappy Lon catches us," he went on, "he'll knock hell out
of us both."
The girl, having surrendered her spirit of command, crawled into the
trousers and donned the blue shirt. After extinguishing the candle,
which Flukey slipped into his pocket, they clambered out of the cave,
leaving the rocky floor strewn with locks of hair, and stole softly
along the shore toward the college hill.