only at the deeply perturbed Mary, for Doug and Judith went to bed, pulled the covers over their heads and were heard no more that night.
The next morning, before breakfast, half of Lost Chief had called the Spencers on the telephone to tell them that Little Marion had a daughter. The dominant note in the reports was one of huge laughter. Judith was serene, and so was John. But the serenity was not to last. When she went out to the corral to look after Sioux she came back stormily.
"Where's Sioux and Whoop-la?" she demanded of John, who was mending a spur strap.
"Put away!"
"Have you killed them?"
"No. I'll produce them as soon as you agree to keep your promise to go to Mountain City with me."
"I never promised. I intended to go with you, but I never promised."
"Remember if we don't get started by to-morrow," roared John, "we can't get there in time."
"I said I wouldn't go with you after last night, and now, I wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on earth."
She rushed from the house, and Douglas followed her.
"I'll help you hunt for them, Judith," he said.
She turned to him, white to the lips. "We're not going to hunt for them. There are other Mountain City rodeos coming. If he thinks I'm going to make a joke of myself rushing round the neighborhood after my outfit, he's mistaken! I'm not a child. Don't bother me, Douglas; I'm going to Inez."
She put Buster to a gallop and was off, the dust following her in a golden, whirling spiral. Douglas went into the house and stood before his father, face flushed,
