"Now, we got 'er, Tess, ye air to do anythin' ye want to with 'er."
Still, the blue eyes looked into the brown, and, still, Tessibel's heart raged its satisfaction. What were the squatters going to do with Waldstricker's daughter? The girl turned her head slowly and glanced at the row of dark men in their chairs against the wall. She cared nothing for the child on the floor, except that she was the one thing that Waldstricker loved best. Surely, to injure her would injure him! The little feet were tied and so were the small hands. This pleased Tess, too, for she remembered how they'd held Boy when he was imploring them to keep the big man away.
Waldstricker! Ungodly, wicked Waldstricker! His time had come! She'd go and leave the little girl with the squatters. Well she knew that a word from her and the baby would be seen no more.
"I guess when old Eb found out his kid were gone," grated Jake Brewer, "he got a wrench or two hisself."
The heavy voice brought Tess about.
"What'll we do with her?" She flung her hand toward the child in the corner.
"Yer say'll go, brat," put in Longman. "That rich duffer air had his way too long. Us squatters're a goin' to show 'im 'tain't so safe to ride rough shod over everybody."
"You're going to kill her?" asked Tessibel, dully.
"Yep," flung in Brewer, "if ye say so."
Mrs. Brewer was crying softly. Her husband turned fiercely upon her.