Tess of the Storm Country

Kneeling down at the refrigerator, she fumbled for the lock. The door slid open silently. A small pail of milk stood behind the butter-plate, and Tessibel, clutching it in her fingers, rose up. As she did so, a light flashed into her face, and she looked up to find Dominie Graves towering over her, his brows caught together with anger.

"So Miss Skinner is the thief who takes our milk! The hymn-singing girl!... Ah, it is you!"

Tessibel dropped her eyes, still holding the can of milk.

"I air a-stealin' yer milk," she said presently, lifting her gaze. "Air ye goin' to--let me have it?"

"No, my lady, I am not going to let you have it," he mimicked. "But something else you are going to get."

The Dominie stepped to the kitchen door leading into the yard, and turned the key in the lock. He placed the lamp on the table, the squatter waiting with fear-laden eyes.

"For a long time," went on the Dominie, in slow, measured tones, "I have thought it would be a good thing to give you a sound whipping. The Bible says, 'Spare the rod, and spoil the child.' ... I am going to do something your father forgot to do, Miss Skinner."

The sneer in his voice and his slur on her father brought a bright flush of anger to Tessibel's face.

"Ye can cowhide me if ye wants to, but don't say nothin' against my Daddy!"

"I'll say what I wish to! Now, then, how many times have you stolen from this house?"

Tess looked about for some way of escape; then pondered.

"I dunno," she replied sullenly.

"I can just about tell," answered Graves. "Rebecca says that for many mornings she has had no milk for her coffee. And I left the kitchen door unlocked to-night purposely to catch the thief. Let me see.... I think we've been robbed for ten days? That means ten good stripes for you, Tessibel Skinner.... Put down that milk!"

"I won't do it," Tessibel whitened. She had not believed the minister when he had threatened to whip her. He was trying to scare her. He would probably take away the milk, and send her home again. But he had stepped to the wall, and taken a riding-whip from a nail. Tess had seen that whip before, once--the time she had twiggled her fingers. Graves had shaken it at her from his saddle-horse. Then she had not been afraid.... The clergyman came toward her.