"Let's go to supper," he invited.
The girl made an effort to master her confusion. Slowly she rose and took the professor's arm. The unfamiliar, embarrassing formality helped to hide her anger and consternation. She found herself positively unable to eat. When had she ever been capable of taking food when her heart filled her throat? She was conscious every moment of the presence of her husband and Madelene a little farther down the table, and that Frederick's attention was wholly taken up with his companion. She had but to raise her eyes to see Madelene's face beaming with pleasure.
Suddenly the voice of a stranger roused Tessibel from her bitter meditation.
"I heard, Mr. Waldstricker, you've located Andrew Bishop. It's true, I hope."
If it hadn't been for the queer feeling in her legs, Tessibel would have stood up. Located Andy Bishop--where? Why in her shanty, of course,--up in the garret under the straw tick. If they had found him, it must have been there. When? Tonight, since she'd left home. She bent over and searched the table for Waldstricker. He was seated next to Helen Young, and his gaze was directed toward his questioner.
"Well," he replied, "that's not quite right, but we hope--" he hesitated, swept his flashing eyes to Tessibel and smiled, "we hope to have him back in Auburn soon. I have two good detectives working for me."
Taking a deep breath of relief, Tess subsided in her chair, and she was not sorry when the signal was given for the company to leave the table.