"If ye put on yer things like I says," he continued, "there won't be no trouble, brat. But if ye don't—" he moved toward her, "ye'll wish ye had."
To this Tessibel couldn't reply. Insistent, in her panting heart, was a constant call for rescue. She looked steadily at Lysander and he glared back at her.
"Tess," he threatened, "ye know me well 'nough not to come any monkey shines on me. I says again, get yer hat, fer I'm goin' to take ye one way or t'other."
"I told you I couldn't," she answered. "I'm not any longer a little girl. I've got to work. I want to learn things and take care of my baby."
She couldn't have said anything that would have fired the squatter's rage any quicker. Her baby! What did he care about the brat?
"Ye don't have to work no more fer Young," he retorted. "I ain't goin' to have my woman keepin' house fer no professor, an' ye can make up yer mind to it 'out no further clack." In one bound, Sandy rounded the table. "If ye won't do what I tell ye, then, I'll make ye wish ye had. Ye throwed up at me once, ye brat, ye, I never had no kisses from ye! After today ye won't be able to say that."
A strong hand shot out, guided by a powerful arm. Fingers clutched for her, but Tess, eluding them, slipped to the window.
"Sandy!" she implored. "Sandy, don't touch me, don't! Wait!"
"I won't wait," snarled Letts. "I air waited years an' years, an' I won't wait no longer."
At that moment there seemed no escape for the girl, who was holding out her hands to keep off the brute facing her. The very quiet of the day, the singing of the birds, and the shrill chirping of the crickets, only added to her sense of isolation. She glanced hopelessly from the huge squatter out into the summer air.