“Nuff said,” was Billy's remark.
Long glared at Saxon, then transferred the glare to her protector.
“I've a good mind to mix it with you anyway,” Long gritted through his teeth.
Saxon was elated as they started to move away. Lily Sanderson's fate had not been hers, and her wonderful man-boy, without the threat of a blow, slow of speech and imperturbable, had conquered the big blacksmith.
“He's forced himself upon me all the time,” she whispered to Billy. “He's tried to run me, and beaten up every man that came near me. I never want to see him again.”
Billy halted immediately. Long, who was reluctantly moving to get out of the way, also halted.
“She says she don't want anything more to do with you,” Billy said to him. “An' what she says goes. If I get a whisper any time that you've been botherin' her, I'll attend to your case. D'ye get that?”
Long glowered and remained silent.
“D'ye get that?” Billy repeated, more imperatively.
A growl of assent came from the blacksmith