“You and Douglas go home, Judith,” said Grandma briskly.  “Jimmy, I want a talk with Little Marion.  You put that door back on the hinges, then disappear.”

So Judith and Douglas rode away.  It was a heavenly night, with more than a hint of frost in the air, and the horses were as frolicsome as Prince.

“Now, will you tell me,” asked Judith as she brought Buster back into the trail for the third time, “just why Charleton acted so?”

“It’s just like I told you once,” replied Douglas.  “A man wants his own women to be straight no matter how much he does to make ’em crooked.”

“Men are yellow,” said Judith succinctly.  “What’s the use of Charleton—­” She paused as if words failed her, and they rode their prancing horses in silence till John galloped up and pushed Beauty between them.

“I hope you two fools feel better!” he shouted.  “You’ve got a row going with Charleton.”

“Lot I care!” chuckled Judith.  “I’ll sic Grandma Brown on him again if he bothers me.”

“I’d rather have a wolverine after me than Charleton,” John went on excitedly.  “You both ought to be licked!”

“Try it,” suggested both the young people together.

“I’ve a notion not to take you up to Mountain City and I wouldn’t if—­”

Judith interrupted him.  “You’re not going to take me.  I’m going with Doug.”

“O, no, you’re not!” snarled John.

“And I’m not going to quarrel with you,” Judith went on.  “I’m sick of men.  I don’t like the way you acted to me to-night.  I told you if you broke that door down I wouldn’t go with you, and I always keep my word.  I’m not going to take money from Douglas, either.  I’ll borrow from Inez.  And I don’t want to hear another word from you about it.”

She put the spurs to Buster and was gone into the starlight.  The men spurred after her, but she reached the home corral before they did.  And John could storm only at the deeply perturbed Mary, for Doug and Judith went to bed, pulled the covers over their heads and were heard no more that night.

The next morning, before breakfast, half of Lost Chief had called the Spencers on the telephone to tell them that Little Marion had a daughter.  The dominant note in the reports was one of huge laughter.  Judith was serene, and so was John.  But the serenity was not to last.  When she went out to the corral to look after Sioux she came back stormily.

“Where’s Sioux and Whoop-la?” she demanded of John, who was mending a spur strap.

“Put away!”

“Have you killed them?”

“No.  I’ll produce them as soon as you agree to keep your promise to go to Mountain City with me.”

“I never promised.  I intended to go with you, but I never promised.”

“Remember if we don’t get started by to-morrow,” roared John, “we can’t get there in time.”

“I said I wouldn’t go with you after last night, and now, I wouldn’t go with you if you were the last man on earth.”