it! Don't! I don't believe in marriage. I tell you I don't, Douglas!"
"Why not?"
"I've told you again and again. Marriage is too hard on a woman. Why should I want to cook your meals and darn your socks and wash your clothes for you the rest of my life? Yes, and listen to you swear and lay down the law and spit tobacco juice? And when I'm a little older and beginning to get knotty with the hard work, see you take notice of girls who are younger and prettier than I. No, Doug!"
"O, love isn't like that!" exclaimed Douglas vehemently.
"My love won't be like that, I can tell you!" The excitement still was evident in Judith's voice. "I'm not going to kill it, by marrying."
"I wish that Inez were dead and in hell!" cried Douglas, with such an accumulation of bitterness in his voice that Judith drew a quick breath. "And I wish I could quit loving you! I tried my best to, all the time I was at Charleton's. But I can't! It just grows as I grow and every day it's a bigger pain and trouble to me. I wish I could have peace!"
"I wish I could have it myself!" ejaculated the girl. She rose suddenly. "I'm so tired of this burning struggle. But I won't settle down to being an old horse on a ranch. I will do something that gives me a chance to use my brain. I will!"
She leaped into the saddle.
Douglas seized the mare's bridle. "Just what do you mean by being tired of a burning struggle?" he demanded tensely. "Are you caring for somebody, Jude?"
"Let me go, Douglas," said Judith.
For a moment, the two stared at each other in the fad-
