the baby attending, and be considered O. K. by the so-called best folks and nothing more said."
Charleton's face grew darkly red. "Who told you that?" he asked in an ugly voice.
"I'm not a fool, as I've told you before. And as you very well know, I've wanted Judith for my wife ever since I was a boy and I haven't wanted her man-handled. And you know, as Jude said once, a girl has about as much chance of staying straight in Lost Chief as a cottontail has with a coyote pack. She's good because, well, because she's Judith, that's all. Now, I tell you when things are as hard as that for a young girl in a beautiful place like our valley, there's something wrong. And look at Little Marion!"
"Leave her out or you'll regret it," snarled Charleton.
"I'm not afraid of you, Charleton," said Douglas, with indifference not at all assumed. "Little Marion is a peach of a girl. She should have been a big influence. She's—she's had a wrong start."
"She's got a fine baby and a good husband."
"I never could argue with you, Charleton. But I know Lost Chief is a bad place for girls. Why, I'll bet there isn't a finer bunch of girls than ours in the world, for looks and nerve and smartness. Peter says he's never seen any that could touch them. And take the stories you read. Where's a heroine like Judith?"
There was something so simple and so earnest in Doug's manner and voice that the red died out of Charleton's face and he said, "I'm with you on that point, Douglas."
"Peter told me once," Douglas went on, "that the Greek race was the finest in the world in their minds and their looks and in every way, until the Greek women got promiscuous. That as soon as that happened the race
