“And you know you did promise not to bother me—­just to desert me, you see, so I could get a divorce in a year.  I thought I’d come and live with Kate till the year was up, and then get a divorce, and go back home to work.  My father left me enough to squeak along on, you see, if I lived in the country.  Aunt Ida—­that’s Frank’s mother—­paid me a salary for staying with her and looking after her house and her rents and things.  And then, when you followed me out here, I was furious!  Just simply furious!” She bent her head and set her teeth gently into the fleshy part of Ford’s thumb, and Ford flinched.  It happened to be the sore one.

“Well, but that doesn’t explain how you got your loop on me, girlie—­though I sure am glad that you did!”

“Why, don’t you see, the time was almost up, just for all the world like a play.  ‘Only one day more—­and I must save the pa-apers!’ So the lawyer Aunt Ida had for years, heard that Frank was—­or had been—­at Garbin.  I rushed out here, and heard that there was a Cameron (only they must have meant Campbell) at Sunset.  So I got a license, and the Reverend Sanderson, and took the evening train down there.  At the hotel I asked for Mr. Cameron, and they sent you in.  And you know the rest, you—­you old fraud!  How you palmed yourself off on me—­”

“I never did!  I must have just been in one of my obliging moods; and a man would have to be mighty rude and unkind not to say yes to a pretty girl when—­”

That is as far as the discussion went, with anything like continuity or coherence even.  Later, however, Josephine did protest somewhat muffledly:  “But, Ford, I married you under the name of Frank Cameron, so I don’t believe—­and anyway—­I’d like a real wedding—­and a ring!”

Mrs. Kate, having been solemnly assured by Rock that Ford was sober and as nearly in his right mind as a man violently in love can be (Rock made it plain, by implication at least, that he did not consider that very near), ventured into the kitchen just then.  She still looked scared and uncertain, until, through the half-open door of the pantry, she heard soft, whispery sounds like kissing—­when the kissing is a rapture rather than a ceremony.  Mrs. Kate had only been married eight years or so, and she had a good memory.  She backed from the kitchen on her toes, and pulled the door shut with the caution of a thief.  She did more; she permitted dinner to be an hour late, rather than disturb those two in the pantry.

* * * * *

The uphill climb was no climb at all, after that.  For when a man has found the one woman in the world, and with her that elusive thing we call happiness, even the demon must perforce sheathe his claws and retire, discomfited, to the pit whence he came.

There was a period of impatient waiting, because Josephine and Mrs. Kate both stoutly maintained that the “real wedding” could not take place until Chester came back.  After that, there was a Mrs. foreman at the Double Cross until spring.  And after that, there was a new ranch and a new house and a new home where happiness came and dwelt unhindered.