Tess of the Storm Country. Grace Miller White
building.
"I air comin', Daddy Skinner," she cried. "I air comin'."
She followed the main body of the ivy on its upward growth, slipping and sliding on the wet creeper as she made her perilous ascent. Daddy Skinner was near the roof and it took Tessibel many torturing minutes to reach him. He knew she was coming by the continual dragging at the ivy, but he dared not speak, for the guard walked outside his door in the hall, and the sound of a voice would bring danger to Tess. Once he strained his face to the bars—saw her climbing frantically, and the sight made him dizzy. He could only wait—wait the interminable time until the red-brown head appeared and the wide eyes stared into his. Skinner quietly drew his child to the stone sill and placed his fingers over her lips to enjoin silence. Tess understood and even drew softer breaths, holding tightly to the beloved hands.
"I comed for kisses on the bill, Daddy," she breathed. "Tess … air lonely without ye."
The livid, shaking lips met the quivering mouth through the iron rods. A long, long kiss, such as Tess had wanted quieted her suffering a little. It was the same old Daddy whom she was going to save by praying. She had asked to see him only a minute, and the student's God had granted her prayer.
She whispered again, shivering and shaking with the cold.
"Did ye kill the gamekeeper, Daddy?"
The gray head shook the answer, "no."
"If ye did ye didn't mean to, did ye?"
The two negative replies made Tessibel's heart bound. It would be easier for God to help him if he had not committed a crime, and for no instant did she doubt his word. She kissed him again passionately, clinging to his lips with all the young growing emotion in her body.
The squatter clung desperately to the body of his child. He could not let her go, fearing she would fall to the hard stones below, but he knew that she stood in danger of being discovered and dared not detain her.
"Kin ye get down again?" he whispered.
"Yep, Daddy Skinner, and ye ain't goin' to hang, 'cause some one what can, air goin' to help ye."
"Who air he?"
"God … up there!" and Tessibel motioned with her hand toward the dark sky. "He says as how He helps folks like us … that a cross was beared for us … and I says to Him to-night, and I says every day till ye come back to the shanty … that He lets ye free, Daddy. … I asks the sheriff to-morrow if I can come afternoons to see ye. And, Daddy, I holds the shanty till ye come home."
He kissed her small pinched face again and again—and took his arms away. Tess slipped down the creeper and when she reached the ground called softly:
"I air here, Daddy Skinner."
She saw him pressing against the bars, his lips shaking and his eyes closely shut as if he were stumblingly offering a prayer for the child of his fisherman soul.
CHAPTER IX
The fraternities of Cornell University gave home and social comforts to students, rich and popular enough to be invited to join them. Each fraternity had its own spacious house, with its staff of servants, where the members lived during the college year.
Every first-year man had the ambition to join one, which if he attained assured him a luxurious home during the four years he spent in Ithaca.
One evening, three weeks after Tessibel's secret visit to her father in the city jail, twenty fraternities were preparing all the practical jokes which boyish minds could concoct, with which to initiate their new candidates to full membership. Five new men were to join the "Cranium" fraternity. The house of this society stood high upon the eastern hill above the lake and overlooked the forest-mantled town. The first story of the building contained the smoking, dining, billiard and two drawing rooms. Above were sleeping chambers and private studies for the students, and annexed to the house proper was a small stone structure built purposely for the initiation of the new members.
On this night all interest was centered upon the annex where Frederick Graves, Dan Jordan, Billy Dillon, Oscar Brown and Jimmy Preston were to be taken through the "stunts."
In the afternoon the five young men had been locked in one of the student's rooms, and told that they would receive their dinner during the proceedings that evening. The gravity which had settled upon the upper classmen frightened the three smaller candidates, for Billy, Oscar and Jimmy were miniatures in size compared to Dan Jordan and Frederick Graves.
"Do you think they are going to hurt us," asked Billy Dillon, turning to the two larger students. "I don't want to be hurt—I like the thought of being a fraternity man, but I don't want to go through any business that will injure me."
"Neither do I," put in Oscar Brown. "I promised my mother—"
"It won't be well with you fellows if those chaps downstairs hear you talking that way," cautioned Jordan, "besides the initiation is only fun, and any of us are willing to stand jokes."
After a three-hour wait, a group of sophomores, and the freshmen's tormentors—appeared upon the scene and ordered the candidates to follow them into the dreaded annex. In this "torture chamber" the older members, juniors and seniors, seated on benches placed around the wall, were waiting gravely the arrival of their victims.
The honors of the occasion had been given into the hands of the sophomores, and as they trailed in followed by the quaking applicants, a hush fell over the expectant members of the society.
The five freshmen were ordered to stand in a row, and Richard Hall, the spokesman of the second-year class, came forward, holding up one hand in mock reverence.
"Gentlemen," he began, "I first christen you all in the name of the 'Cranium' Fraternity. I give you, Dillon, the name of 'Swipes.' You, Brown, shall be dubbed 'Shorts'—here he hesitated an instant, perusing a slip of paper which lay on the table beside him—Preston, you may add another 'S' to make a trio—your name shall be 'Spuddy.'"
Hall allowed his eyes to gaze reflectively upon Dan Jordan.
"To a big fellow like you, Jordan," he resumed, "I give 'Captain.'" His voice dropped as if he had either overlooked or forgotten Frederick, and the young fellow waited expectantly.
Suddenly Hall flashed him a glance, then dropped his eyes with twitching lips.
"'Parson' is good enough for you, Graves."
Sweeping the five candidates with his searching gaze, he took up the speech again—
"If at any time your fraternity brothers desire to call you by your new names and you refuse to answer, you shall receive the punishment which goes with disobedience."
"Gentlemen," he said again, dismissing the last subject with a wave of his hand, "it gives us great pleasure to receive you into this fraternity, but before we can give you full membership it is necessary for us to go through a few more formalities."
Hall's eye fell in hesitation upon the ponderous form of Dan Jordan.
"You will all no doubt soon see the value of prompt obedience," his voice rang out, and a smile touched each corner of his lips, but faded instantly.
The three little freshmen moved uneasily—Hall, with a touch of irony in his tones, directed the rest of his instructions to them.
"We have decided," resumed the speaker, "to initiate you fellows all at one time."
Oscar Brown sighed in relief. "Misery loves company," and if the society had any indignities to bestow, he would not be alone.
"We have found it necessary in times past," Hall took up again with a tragic tone in his voice, "to use discipline upon such occasions as this, and if by chance an incoming member becomes obstreperous, we employ a friend