"Yep, Flea, and so be you; but there ain't much for ye, savin' that ye
go a long journey lookin' for a good land."

Bending her head nearer, Flea coaxed, "What good land, Screechy dear?"

"Yer's and Flukey's, Flea."

"Where air it?"

"Down behind the college hill, many a stretch for yer short legs from
the squatter's settlement, and many a day when bread's short and water's
plenty, many a night when the cold'll bite yer legs, and many a tear--"

"Be we leavin' Pappy Lon?" demanded the girl.

"Yep."

"Forever and forever?"

"For Flukey, yep; but for yerself--"

Flea stared in speechless wonder and fright. "I don't want to stay
without Flukey!" she cried.

"I ain't a tellin' ye what ye want to do; only how the shadders run. But
that's a weary day off. The good land be yers and Flukey's for the
seekin' of it."

"Air Flukey goin' to be catched a thievin'?"