Judith put her hand over Douglas’ and her fine eyes were all that was womanly and soft as she answered, “O my dear, you don’t know what you are talking about.  What you promise is impossible.”

“But how do you know, Judith?  I am an unchanging sort of a chap.  You realize that, don’t you?”

Judith shook her head.  “You don’t know what you are promising.  You can’t force love to stay, once it has begun to fade.”

“Try me, Judith!  Try me, dear!”

Judith looked at him, lips parted, eyes sad.  “Douglas, I’m afraid!” she whispered.

And again the sense of loneliness flooded Doug’s heart.  There was a look of remoteness in Judith’s expression, a look of honest fear that had no response for the fine assured emotion that had held him captive for so many years.

The two were still staring at each other when Peter returned.

Doug’s wound healed quickly and with no complications.  He remained with Peter for a week or so, then returned to his home.  Scott Parsons began preparations at once for carrying out Doug’s sentence and for a time the post-office and the west trail to Inez’ place saw him most infrequently.  The excitement over the shooting having abated, Lost Chief began preparations for the great event of the year, the Fourth of July rodeo.

All the world knows the story of a rodeo, knows the beauty and the daring of both riders and horses, knows the picturesque patois of the sand corral.  But all the world does not know of Judith’s performance at this particular rodeo.

Mary, lax and helpless enough on most matters concerning her daughter’s conduct, held out on one point.  Judith could not enter the Fourth of July rodeo until she was at least sixteen.  But now, at sixteen, Judith asked permission of no one.  She entered the exhibition with Buster and Sioux and Whoop-la, the bronco Scott had given her.

The rodeo was held on the plains to the east of the post-office.  The Browns owned the great corral, strongly fenced, and with a smooth sandy floor bordered by a grandstand weathered and unpainted but still sturdy enough to withstand the swaying and stamping of the crowd.  Neither the Browns nor any other of the Lost Chief families made money out of the exhibition.  It was a community affair in which was felt an intense pride.  All Lost Chief attended, of course, and people came in automobiles and in sheep wagons and in the saddle from the ranches for a radius of a hundred miles.

Burning heat and cloudless heavens, the high west wind and the nameless exhilaration and urge of the Rockies at seven thousand feet, this was the day of the rodeo.  The exhibition began at ten in the morning and lasted all day, with an hour at noon for dinner.

There was the usual roping and throwing of steers and the usual riding of bucking broncos by men and women young and old.  Douglas rode and rode well, but he had his peer in Jimmy Day and in Charleton.  Judith rapidly eliminated all the women contestants and then began to vie with the men in the riding of buckers.  By four o’clock as one of the four best riders, bar none, she was ready to enter the last competition on the program.  This was listed as an original exhibition to be given by each of the four best riders.  Douglas, Jimmy, and Charleton were the other contestants.  Judith entered first.