"There air," insisted Myra, "and it air Tess what air a-doin' it. Ben Letts air a-lovin' Tessibel. And ye hates him." "Yep." "Tess ain't for none of ye! She ain't like other squatters. The man from the hill says as how Tess can read better'n most gals can, and she has done it all herself." "Don't care," grunted Ezra, stooping again. "Ben Letts can keep his hands offen her, or I tells what I knows." This was Myra's chance. She grasped the boy's arm, and twisted him about so that he faced her. "What can ye tell?" "Somethin'." "About Skinner?" "Yep." "Ye'd hang Ben Letts if ye could. But ye won't, ye see? Ye'd not hang a man what ought to be in yer own fambly, would ye?" "If I tells Pa Satisfied that ye said that, Myry," muttered the boy, "he wouldn't wait for the law to handle Ben Letts--he'd shoot his dum head offen him quicker than a cat can blink." "I knows a hull lot about you, Ezy," warned Myra, "and if ye tells on Ben, I tells on yer, too. I loves Ben Letts, I does!" "Bid him keep from Tess, then," answered Ezra sulkily, filling his arms with wood. Myra looked after him fearfully. The trouble between her child's father and her brother had come upon her so suddenly that she had given Ezra another hold upon the man she loved, by telling him her secret. That afternoon she followed Letts a short distance along the shore toward his cabin. When out of sight of her own home, she ran forward. "Ben! Ben!" she called. The fisherman turned impatiently. "What air ye wantin', Myry?" "Be you and Ezy hatin' each other?" "He ain't nothin' but a brat," replied Ben scornfully. "Let him keep out of my way, or I fixes him." "He air a-sayin' the same thing," cautioned Myra. "Ye air a-seekin' Tess? He says as how ye air to keep from her." She was walking beside him, her red hands rolled in her gingham apron. The hot sun shone on her colorless hair, which was drawn back from the plain face. "Ye air a-helpin' him with Tess," Ben grunted presently. "If ye ever wants me to come to yer hut, keep yer mouth shet, and let me and Ezy fight it out. Do ye hear?" "Yep." "Then scoot home now." Myra turned, and then stopped. "Ben," she called softly again. "What be ye a-wantin' now?" "If I keeps Ezy away from Tess, will ye--?" "Ye air a-wantin' me to do somethin' for ye, Myry?" Ben answered, coming toward her eagerly. "Yep." "What?" "If ye'll kiss the brat when Mammy and Satisfied ain't a-lookin'--" "Scoot home, I says. Scoot home," shot from Ben's lips. And home she went, this girl of but eighteen with an old woman's face, a tired young heart beating lovingly for the brat in the box and--for its father.