"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—?"