"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."

Of one extravagance Saxon was guilty in the course of the brief
engagement period. A full day's wages she spent in the purchase
of half a dozen cabinet photographs of herself. Billy had
insisted that life was unendurable could he not look upon her
semblance the last thing when he went to bed at night and the
first thing when he got up in the morning. In return, his
photographs, one conventional and one in the stripped fighting
costume of the ring, ornamented her looking glass. It was while
gazing at the latter that she was reminded of her wonderful
mother's tales of the ancient Saxons and sea-foragers of the
English coasts. From the chest of drawers that had crossed the