"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."