when Tessibel ushered the little man up the ladder and displayed the clean attic.

"'Tain't high 'nough fer me to stand up in," she told him, "but ye'll get along all right, an' I air goin' to fix ye somethin' so ye can see to read.... Can ye read?"

"Sure, I can read." Andy's voice rang with pride. "My ma, she's dead now, she learned me how, she did!"

"Then I'll get ye lots of books," replied Tess, "an' ye'd best always keep hid less'n I let ye down, 'cause Sandy might catch onto yer bein' here. Waldstricker's money'll set loose a lot of sneaks like him lookin' fer ye!"

Late that afternoon the dwarf ate his first meal in the garret, and Tessibel and Orn Skinner ate theirs at the table, but the conversation of the father and daughter intermingled now and then with a soft statement or a question from above, and there was happiness in the Skinner hut.

As soon as they finished supper, Tess went to the foot of the ladder and called softly.

"I air goin' to tell ye somethin', Andy,—ye listenin'?"

"Yep, brat. Sure, I air listenin'."

"I air a goin' somewheres to find out somethin'," announced the girl mysteriously. "Mebbe when I get back I'll tell ye what ye'll like to hear.... Ye'll stay hid, won't ye?"

"Sure so," agreed Andy.

After bending to kiss her father affectionately, the girl said to him,

"Now, Daddy, I air goin' out a little while, an' you two be awful careful how loud ye talk.... Somebody might hear ye!"

And for a short moment after the girl had gone there was silence in the shack. Then a prolonged sigh drifted from the garret.

"My God, Orn, but she air a fine young thing fer ye to be fatherin', huh? Ain't she?"

Andy's voice, though but little more than a whisper, expressed his wonder and admiration.

"God's best," muttered Orn, and once more they lapsed into the companionable silence of good friends.