Tess walked to the door, and listened; then laid her finger on her lips. She raised the basket from the floor, slipped back the cover, and Teola Graves was peeping in upon a tiny sleeping face.
"He air a-goin' with me wherever I has to go.... I ain't a-comin' here again with him, fearin' some one will know.... I think ye be happier, now that ye hes seen his bed--eh? Now I air a-goin', and when ye gets well ye can come to the hut to see him. He air gettin' powerful hungry. He can smack louder than a dog can holler.... Poor little devil!"
That night, a small figure left the Skinner shanty bent upon an act of theft. Up through the lane to the tracks, with a small pail in her hand, Tessibel went. The brindle bull capered about her as she slid through the wires. Without the slightest compunction, Tessibel returned to the shanty with the warm milk which she had taken from one of the fine cows at Kennedy's; then by the light of the candle she filled the tin cup, and warmed it over the fire. This, too, would have to be sweetened. Spoonful after spoonful she emptied into the smacking lips, and, when the babe slept, Tess placed it under the blankets, and took up the Bible to read of the promises of the student's God.