"Right?
That's what you been preachin' me these last ten years 'bout whiskey-runnin,' but it ain't made me stop sellin' whiskey, has it?
An' I guess it ain't a word that'll come between Mooney and me--not if Mooney gits his thousand." Suddenly he turned upon her, a hand half raised to strike.

"An' if you whisper a word to her--if y' double-cross me so much as the length of your little finger--I'll break every bone in your body, so help me God! You understand?
You won't say anything to her ?" The woman's uneven shoulders drooped lower.
"I won't say ennything, Jed.

I--promise." The man dropped his uplifted hand with a harsh grunt.
"I'll kill y' if you do," he warned.
The girl had dropped her axe, and was coming toward them.

She was a slim, bird-like creature, with a poise to her head and an up-tilt to her chin which warned that the man had not yet beaten her to the level of the woman.

She was dressed in a faded calico, frayed at the bottom, and with the sleeves bobbed off just above the elbows of her slim white arms.