Long laughed hoarsely.
“He's got your goat all right.”
“And yours,” she flashed back.
“I could tell you things about him. Saxon, straight, he ain't no good. If I was to tell you—”
“You'd better get out of my way,” she interrupted, “or I'll tell him, and you know what you'll get, you great big bully.”
Long shuffled uneasily, then reluctantly stepped aside.
“You're a caution,” he said, half admiringly.
“So's Billy Roberts,” she laughed, and continued on her way. After half a dozen steps she stopped. “Say,” she called.
The big blacksmith turned toward her with eagerness.
“About a block back,” she said, “I saw a man with hip disease. You might go and beat him up.”