Famished by his detention in prison, he hungered for the sight of Tess. All the fierce passion of his undisciplined nature clamored for her. And when he had her, he'd carry out all the brutalities conceived in the long nights in his cell. He'd find out the father of her boy. If that duffer, Waldstricker, could discover it, he could. He'd make Tess tell. He'd show Young, too. He'd get even with the lawyer for helping send him to Auburn. His grievance grew more active every step he carried his load of liquor through the broiling sun, the long four miles from Ithaca. "Wait till I get 'em," he muttered over and over, "I'll show 'em what's what." Before he reached the lane leading past Young's place to the Skinner shack, he left the tracks and climbed the fence. Throwing his legs over the top, he sat down to enjoy the breeze which blew from the green lake, and, vibrating the leaves and bowing the shrubs and grasses, swept up and over the hill into the illimitable space beyond. Sandy wanted another drink, and reached back to his hip for it. The bottle stuck in the pocket and he jerked at it savagely. He pulled it out, but he, also, lost his balance, and in his efforts to save himself from falling, smashed the bottle on the top rail of the fence. The whiskey ran down to the ground and the thirsty moss drank it up. Letts gazed at the jagged-edged glass in his hand, stupefied by the magnitude of his calamity. Then he drew a long breath and cursed his luck. He cursed the bottle, the fence, the whiskey, Waldstricker, who'd sent him, and Tess and the unknown man, on whose account he'd been sent. His maledictions included everything except his own drunken clumsiness. Bye and bye, he got down from the fence, muttering and grumbling to himself. Cautiously, in spite of his inflamed temper, he worked his way through the trees. There was no sign of life about the house, but large hammocks swung in the breeze on the porch. The squatter walked around and around, keeping far enough away so his movements could not be noticed. He stopped under a large tree to look up at the windows Waldstricker had described. Attracted by a sound to his right, he wheeled about and saw Tessibel coming down the hill. His breath came sharply through his dark teeth. Never had the girl been so desirable, and for the instant, he felt possessed to rush upon her, to take her in his arms, to hold her close. Then, Waldstricker came into his mind. Before he worked his will on the squatter girl, he must find out the name of the unknown man. He had to please the elder to get the rest of the money. But to speak to her would be all right. He might discover something. He walked stealthily through the trees and placed himself so that when the girl turned toward the house, she would meet him face to face. Tess was humming happily. When her eyes rested upon Lysander Letts, she stopped. "Hello, brat!" grinned Sandy.