d Tess, opening the
hall door.

A small avalanche of concentrated eagerness piled out of the house.

"Uncle Forrie! Uncle Forrie!" cried Boy, swarming upon him. "I'm awful
glad you're home."

* * * * *

"Now, then," said the lawyer after dinner, "I think our little mister
here ought to crawl into bed.... Well, one more romp, then bye-bye. Eh?"

"One more romp!" screamed the child.

His mother carried him away half an hour later, and when she went to
Andy's room, she found Young there talking to the dwarf.

"I've such a lot to tell you two," said he. "Now we're all comfy, I'll
begin."

"Will it please Andy?" asked Tess.

Deforrest shook his head.

"I'm afraid not!... Bennet won't have to stay long in prison and he
still insists he didn't do the shooting and that Andy did."

The latter groaned, and a shadow fell over Tessibel's face.

"I wish something could be done," said she.

The lawyer considered the end of his cigar.

"Well, I can't think of anything right now," he sighed.... "I suppose
you've heard Lysander Letts is out of prison?"

Young asked the question as though it amounted to little, but he knew by
the sharp cry from the girl and the upward lift of the dwarf's head that
they both dreaded Sandy's return to Ithaca.

"But I don't want you to worry. I'll send him back if he comes around
here."

Tess shook her head despondently.

"Oh, I hope he'll let me alone!"

"I'll see that he does," said the professor, rising and straightening
up. "Well, I'm going down to write some letters. Cheer up, Andy! Maybe
something'll turn up."

"Kid," began Andy, when the lawyer had gone. "I been thinking, we don't
have to worry 'bout Sandy Letts. Ye know the lots of times when we
didn't have Boy's Uncle Forrie to do things for us, how we prayed for a
helpin' hand and got it?"

"Yes, Andy dear," Tess answered, thoughtfully.

"Then let's do it now. Let's get busy prayin' so Sandy can't hurt ye an'
I get out of my pickle.... Huh?"

CHAPTER XXXIX

FATHER AND SON

After an absence from his native city of three years and a half,
Frederick Graves was returning to Ithaca, a very sick man. He had
learned from Helen's letters to Madelene that Tessibel Skinner had a
small son. His brother-in-law's exasperation at Young for giving the
squatter girl and her little son a home at the lake had also been
reflected in the correspondence. He had been able to glean but the bare
ou