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Updated: May 21, 2025
With Wolf Cub hanging to their heels, they started the upward climb. Judith gave to the last ounce of her depleted strength. They reached the still glowing ashes of Doug's fire on their hands and knees, and lay beside it till the warning chill brought Douglas to his feet. He chopped more wood, rekindled the fire in the center of the camp, and established Judith beside it on some blankets.
"Judith's going to Inez' place," said Douglas. "She sees too much of Inez!" Peter scowled. "Her mind is getting exactly Inez' twist to it." "There was a time when you told me Inez could give Judith good advice." Doug's voice was bitter. "So she could. But I never said Inez and Jude should be buddies, did I?" Douglas threw his cigarette into the creek and rolled over on his face with a groan.
The dinner hour was long past when he jingled along the trail past his father's place. On sudden impulse he turned the Moose into the yard. Judith opened the door. She was in sweater and riding-skirt. Her black hair was bundled up under a round beaver cap under which her bright beauty glowed in a way to lift a far less interested heart than Doug's. "Hello, Douglas!" "Hello, Judith!
There was something so simple and so earnest in Doug's manner and voice that the red died out of Charleton's face and he said, "I'm with you on that point, Douglas." "Peter told me once," Douglas went on, "that the Greek race was the finest in the world in their minds and their looks and in every way, until the Greek women got promiscuous. That as soon as that happened the race began to decay.
"He won't even give me credit for being a cattle wrangler! And he says he loves me!" Doug's voice was furious. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, stealing cattle and running round with that Inez Rodman!" "You just be careful of what you say, Doug Spencer!" "Careful! Why should I be careful. You aren't careful!" "I'm a whole lot better than you, at that!
Charleton and Scott looked up grinning as he rode into the circle of light. Wide bare patches showed on Doug's chaps. One sleeve of his flannel shirt was hanging by a thread. His face was bleeding from many scratches, but he grinned amicably as he slid wearily from the saddle. "Hello, Doug! Is your horse broke yet?" asked Charleton. "Some," replied Douglas.
"O Judith! Judith!" exclaimed her mother. "You know how I feel about Scott Parsons!" cried John. "Jude, I'm going to punish you for this so you'll never forget it." "In other words, if Doug runs cattle, he's admired. If I run cattle, I'm punished!" Jude's fine eyes were flashing, her tanned cheeks burning. "Doug's a boy; you're a girl," replied John.
Doug, did you feed the horses well? It's going to be a bitter-cold night." "Yes, we took care of them," replied Douglas, absent-mindedly, his eyes on Judith. "Did you?" Peter turned to Fowler. "I sha'n't take Doug's word about anything that's happened subsequent to the ceremony." "I think you're wise," nodded the preacher. "But as a matter of fact, we did feed them. Shall I put the chairs up?"
There was a mix-up, during which the pup did not stir from his corner and Sister was shoved out the door, snapping at Prince as she went. Prince wagged his tail at Judith and Peter, then put his forepaws on the bed and gazed anxiously at Douglas. He sniffed at the wounded shoulder, wriggled and gave a short, sharp bark. Doug opened his eyes. "It's all right, Prince." Prince licked Doug's cheek.
Doug's father stood by the table with a book in his hand. John Spencer at forty-six was still a superb physical specimen, standing six feet two in his felt slippers. His face, so like, yet so unlike his son's, showed heavy lines from the nostril to the corner of the mouth. Beneath his eyes were faint pouches. The thick thatch of yellow hair had lost its yellow light and now was drab in tone.
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