Tess found him waiting at the shanty door for her one afternoon after returning from town. She smiled a welcome as she recognized her visitor.
"It air about Daddy ye comed," she said, lifting the padlock from the staple.
"Yes, child, I wanted to tell you of some new friends your father has made in Ithaca--strong friends to aid him."
"Friends," echoed Tess wonderingly. "Daddy Skinner had fishermen for his friends--and not people of Ithacy--come in," she added. The fire crackled on the hearth and Tess sat down to listen with open lips.
"I can't explain just how this came about," said Young, "but some of the people who were in the court-room the day your father was convicted have risen to befriend him."
Professor Young did not add that he himself had urged that money should be raised for a second defense.
"So last night," he went on, "there was a meeting of several prominent men and money has been placed in my hands for another trial for your father."
Tess tried to understand the long words, and blinked knowingly. The import of it was plain. Daddy was coming back--but how soon?
"When air he comin' home, then?" she demanded.
"After another trial.... See if you can read this?"
From a long envelope the lawyer took a piece of paper. Tess examined it carefully for some moments. Young eyeing her with a sense of happiness. He would fight for this child as man never before fought for woman. She would love him out of gratitude if for nothing else. He took the paper she was holding out to him.
"Can't read a damn word--can't read writin' anyway. Tell me what it says about Daddy."
"It's a list of names," replied Young, "mostly members--"
"Of Graves' church?" put in Tess eagerly.
Hadn't the student been praying for just this? she thought.
"Yes; they are all desirous to see your father home again with his little daughter."
"Air the minister givin' money for Daddy?" was the anxious demand.
Young shook his head. He felt a sudden swift-coming desire to tell her enough about the minister's family to make her hate them all. Deforest Young realized for the first time that he was jealous of the student, of a tall dark lad of whom in the past he had taken no more notice than of many other students.
He drew a long breath.
"Not exactly the minister," said he, flushing with shame. "Here--let me read the names to you. William Hopkins of the toggery shop, one hundred dollars. Do you know him?"