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"Scott Parsons, I hope you go up that Mormon valley and that they get you, you blank-blank double-crosser you!" Scott shrugged his shoulders. Judith glared at each of the men in turn. "I hate you all, every one of you!" she cried. "What chance has a girl among you? You're just like a lot of coyotes after a rabbit!" "Rabbit! Say lynx-cat, Jude!" laughed John.
One of the white-haired, black-skinned children of men though the point is locally disputed looked up from the grass where he squatted gathering ripe fruit under a sapodilla tree; and to an inquiry: "Yaas-suh, yaas-suh; Mistuh Cahdhoss in de pomelo g'ove, suh, feedin' mud-cat to de wile-puss." "Doing what?" "Feedin' mud-fish to de wile-cat, de wile lynx-cat, suh."
"Now," said Doug, when Judith stood panting like a young Diana, her eyes black with anger and excitement, "if you two men want to fight, take your fists and go to it!" John suddenly grinned, his eyes on Judith. "I don't see anybody spoiling for a fist fight but Judith. You little lynx-cat! You get handsomer every day!" "I'd hate to let a woman make putty of me like that," sneered Scott.
He rushed on toward the bed. "You blank-blank!" screamed Judith. "You aren't fit to touch Little Marion's feet! You or Charleton either!" John seized Judith's arm. Quick as a lynx-cat, Douglas leaped across the room, seized his father from behind and was dragging him toward the door when Grandma Brown ran in. "Now," she cried sternly, "what does this mean?
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