"Sure, but 'tain't much of a world," grunted Skinner, sighing.
Andy bent his head a little farther through the hole.
"It air a lot, while we got Tess," he answered. "We got Tessibel, ain't we, pal?"
The squatter's mouth wrinkled at each corner.
"Yep, I guess we got 'er all right, but I wish to God she'd come home."
"She'll be along soon," assured Andy, with a smile.
For a few minutes they remained silent. Then Orn Skinner burst forth again,
"I ain't got as much use for that feller Tess loves as a dog has for a million fleas, an' I never liked 'is pa, uther...."
"Ye wouldn't wish she'd be lovin' Sandy Letts, even if he does make money, eh, Orn?" asked Andy.
"Thunder, no!" snorted Skinner. "I'd ruther she'd be dead 'n married to Sandy. But that ain't sayin' a honest squatter airn't better'n a high born pup.... I wish Tess loved a decent chap."