Hands Stronger Than Waldstricker's

Andy was peering through the hole. Tessibel collapsed into Daddy Skinner's chair.

"Brat," he said in a whisper, "I'm comin' down!"

Tess mechanically got up and barred the door.... Then she returned to her seat. The dwarf was already squatted beside it, his eyes fastened on the girl in eloquent silence. His chin sank between his knees. Then the two of them sat.... The crackling of the freshly burning wood and the ticking of the clock were the only sounds in the room.

"I heard what the man said 'bout Waldstricker's hands bein' stronger'n God's," reflected Andy, aloud, presently. Then he raised his body a little from the floor that he might look into the girl's face. "Say, brat, has old Eb got any marks on his hands?"

Tess shook her head, brown eyes sombrous with suffering.

"No," she denied. "His hands are big an' white an' long an' soft."

Andy pondered a minute.

"They ain't no marks of nails on 'em, air there, kid?" he demanded, solemnly.

The pursed, hurt lines around Tessibel's mouth softened a little.

"No," she murmured wearily, again. "No, Andy."

The dwarf reached and took one of the girl's hands. It lay on his own quite limply.

"Look at me, brat, dear."

The red-brown eyes moved toward the upturned face.

"Tessibel, will ye think of this one little thing?

"The Christ's holdin' his hands over the hull world, givin' everybody peace; you an' me, too, brat-kid. Waldstricker's hands ain't dragged me back to Auburn, an' God's hands has kept me here.... You showed me that from the beginnin', eh, brat?... It's sure, ain't it?"