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THE JOYOUS TROUBLE MAKER

outlined itself in the outer doorway her eyes were upon her wall clock; it marked twenty-five minutes after six.

"You know what my system is, Stanton," she said by way of answer to his quiet "Good morning." "Next to myself you are in power from one end to the other of my ranch here, yours is the responsibility. So, if anything goes wrong, in the final analysis of it you are to blame."

"Something has gone wrong then?" asked Stanton, his pulses quickened with his vague alarm.

"No," she retorted coolly. "And nothing is going any way excepting as I want it to. Yesterday I gave certain orders to Ed Hurley. Those orders have not been carried out. You appointed Hurley to his present position. You are responsible for him."

Bradford, looking as though all night he had not been out of his clothes and had not so much as lain down in them but must have slept standing, came in closely followed by an anxious, half frightened looking girl clutching at her clothing.

"Bradford," said Miss Corliss, "have Parker bring out my roadster; you can help him run it by hand into the court. I don't want the engine waking my guests. Delia, have my breakfast served immediately in my room."

Bradford and Delia vanished, carrying her orders. She turned again toward the mystified Booth Stanton.

"You, Stanton," she directed, without choosing to answer any of his unspoken questions, "will immediately telephone Hurley. Learn from him what he intends