“What’s a honeymoon?” Skinny queried innocently.

“It’s what two people take when they first get married; go off somewhere by themselves—­like they was locoed—­to find out how bad they got stung!” the Ramblin’ Kid laughingly answered.

“We’d better all go to bed,” Old Heck said; “it’s late and we have to get up early in the morning.  Parker, you and some of the boys will have to go skin them dead steers—­we’ve got to save the hides at least.”

“Old Heck wants to go to sleep so he can dream about the widow,” Chuck snickered, “it’s his turn again to-morrow to love her—­”

“How did she act to-day, Parker?” Bert broke in; “was she pretty affectionate?”

“Aw, shut up!  Ain’t you got any respect for anything—­”

“I’ll bet he proposed to her and she throwed him down,” Chuck hazarded, not realizing how nearly he had come to guessing the truth.

Parker looked angrily at Chuck, then his cheeks grew red, he bent over and began tugging at his boots in an effort to hide the tell-tale confusion in his eyes.

Old Heck furtively studied the face of his foreman.

“Or else she confessed to being a Bolshevik or local-optionist or something and the news broke his heart,” Charley volunteered, joining in the baiting of the range-boss.

“She didn’t neither confess,” Parker denied hastily, aggravated into a reply, “she ain’t either one of them!  She’s an ‘Organizer—­’”

Dead silence greeted this sudden announcement.  Every eye was turned in astonishment on Parker while Old Heck and the boys awaited further explanation.  Parker offered no additional information.

“She’s a what?” Old Heck finally managed to whisper, leaning toward Parker, while a look of fear and incredulity spread over his face.

Parker noticed the anguish in Old Heck’s eyes and a sudden new look of cunning came into his own.

“An ‘Organizer’ I said,” he repeated impressively, “she’s an ‘Organizer’ for some kind of ‘Movement’ or other—­”

“A dis-organizer, you’d better say!” Chuck laughed uncertainly, “judging from the way she’s got you and Old Heck stampeding already!”

“Great guns!” Old Heck half groaned, “what—­what sort of a—­a—­’Movement’ did she say it was, anyhow?”

“Swiss, probably!” came in a chuckling undertone from the direction of the Ramblin’ Kid’s bed.  “Hell, what’s the difference?”

“She said it was connected someway with ’feminine obligations and woman’s opportunity,’” Parker answered, ignoring the frivolous interruptions.

“I know what she is!” Charley exclaimed, “—­it’s just what I expected!  She’s one of these self-starting female suffragettes!  That’s what she is.  I knowed she was too gentle acting to be harmless!”

“She just had to break loose sooner or later,” Bert said in an awed voice.

“My Gawd!” Old Heck murmured hopelessly.  “Holy gosh a’mighty!”