"Yep, an' I air wantin' to write it.... Bring a paper." Bennet gave the last order to the silent attendant. The latter left the room but almost immediately returned with the warden. Tess relinquished the stool and stood near the head of the bed. In silence the officer wrote the story Bennet told them. "It were like this," he stumbled. "Andy didn't have nothin' to do with shootin' Waldstricker. He were a tryin' to stop me from doin' it.... I done it!... Let Andy go!... Don't keep him in the coop." The sunken eyes closed wearily. "Sing about Him bein' kind, miss," he whispered. Low, solemn and beautiful, the sweet soprano brought him back from the brink of the grave. Leaning over him, Tess whispered, "Jesus is always kind." "I done the murder," repeated Bennet. "Let Andy go, and tell 'im I'm sorry.... Here, let me write my name to the paper." It took many efforts for the cramped fingers to scrawl the words, but "Owen Bennet" was legibly written when the man dropped back, exhausted. The warden folded the paper and, smiling, put it into his pocket. "I've always believed he did it, Miss Skinner," he confided to Tess. "Now, come away." Bennet's ears caught the last words. In dying effort, he lifted an imploring hand. "Don't go, lady!" he mourned. "Stay a minute!... I air a needin' ye.... I air afraid, so awful alone!" Tess spoke to the warden. "Tell Mr. Young I'm staying for a while," said she, "and will you please let Andy know about it?" And she sat down again. Through the rest of the afternoon, until the long shadows of Auburn Prison were lost in the gathering gloom, Tessibel sat beside the dying man. Sometimes, she whispered to him, sometimes, she sang very softly, and, when Deforrest Young and the warden came through the hospital ward to her side, Tessibel had piloted Owen Bennet through the darkness into a marvelous light. CHAPTER XLVII. WALDSTRICKER'S ANGER Lysander Letts wanted to get married and settle down in a home of his own. He had received and banked the five thousand dollars for discovering the dwarf, and was, now, looking forward confidently to his marriage with Tessibel Skinner. He was quite sure his wealth would overcome the objections the squatter girl had hitherto opposed to his suit. He grew quite sentimental thinking of her. He'd buy a real house, and put some fancy furniture in it, plush sofas in the parlor and lace curtains at the windows,--not any squatter's shack or pecking-box hut on the Rhine for him. His face darkened at a disturbing thought. He'd make the girl give up that kid! He wouldn't tolerate another man's brat in his home. But Lysander had a wholesome fear of Deforrest Young, and he didn't venture down the lake until the second day after he'd heard Tess had returned from Auburn.