"But when them game men gets after 'em with the permit to shoot, that's what I fears," complained Mrs. Longman—and she sighed.
The fisherwoman's life she had led had been harder than most women bore, for Ezra was going a crooked path, while Myra, well—the brat slept in the cradle. Both girls saw her glance toward it and read her thoughts.
Myra's face deepened in color, Tessibel hummed a tune.
"'Taint no use to try to bring up children anywheres decent," the woman broke in sharply, after a silent moment. "God! but to see one's own—"
"Ma," Myra's voice was pleading, "it air over and ye said—"
"I knows I did, and so did yer Daddy. But I ain't thinkin' only of ye to-night, Myra, look at the mess that Ezry's a makin' of things, and just 'cause ye won't marry him, Tessibel."
"I ain't never goin' to marry no one," said Tess sullenly; "goin' to stay with Daddy."
"Yer Daddy won't live allers," interposed Mrs. Longman, "and what's more, yer better off with a man what will look after ye as Ezy will. Be ye a thinkin' of it at all, Tessibel?"
The girl shook her head.
"Nope, 'taint no use; don't like Ezy anyway."