The babe smacked loudly. The September wind whirled its rain and dead willow leaves over the hut floor. A rasping sound, like the filing of a saw, came from the tin roof.

Frederick Graves took in the scene with one sharp glance. He saw the fisherman, in ugly doggedness, towering over the small figure of the squatter-girl. Then he flung himself upon Ben Letts. He tore Ben's fingers from Tessibel's neck, leaving the skin reddened and scratched by the nails. Tess sank to the floor. The student's fist came down with a stunning blow upon the partly upturned face of the squatter Ben, and the fellow tumbled over.

"Stand up," said Frederick to Tessibel, lifting her gently to her feet. Her hand fluttered to her eyes, then to her throat. Still dizzy from the choking, she sank into the rocking-chair.

"What were you two fighting over?" demanded Frederick impetuously.

Tess gathered her senses at the sound of his voice.

"He were a-tryin' to make me come to his shanty with him--to be his'n--and I ain't a-goin'!"

She whimpered a little, but choked back the tears, and raged: "A squatter-girl can't live a minute without some damn bloke wants to take her from her Daddy's shanty.... I ain't a-goin', I says!"

How brave she felt, with the student near! for there was an expression upon his face that gave her courage. He looked so strong, so brave--and he had come when she had prayed. Something took from her the terror of the night when she had proclaimed her motherhood to him. Perhaps Teola had told him the truth. When he had turned from her in the agony of the confession, he had scorned her with his proud, dark eyes. Now he threw her the same protective glance that she had received before the tragedy.