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Updated: July 19, 2025
Judith spent many a long hour exploring her prison, hoping to find a way out. So far as she knew she had but one person to reckon with, Mad Ruth. True, Trevors had said that he'd have a man on the ledge outside day and night; Judith had never seen such a person, had never heard his voice, and began to believe that it was a bit of bluff on Trevors's part.
"Damn you," shouted Trevors, "get out!" "Cut out the swear-words, Trevors," said Lee with quiet sternness. "There's a lady here." "Lady!" scoffed Trevors. He laughed contemptuously. "Where's your lady? That?" and he levelled a scornful finger at the girl. "A ranting tough of a female who brings a breath of the stables with her and scolds like a fishwife. . . ."
She longed to be friendly with Edith, who was, she was well aware, all that was kind; nevertheless, a strange sensation of depression and of coming trouble was over her. "She is kind; but she may tempt me to do what is wrong," thought poor Florence. "I don't know the Trevors well," she answered. "I have met Mr. Trevor once or twice, but I have never even seen his mother.
She looked at him with clear, confident eyes. "Don't you fool yourself for one little minute, Doc Tripp. I'm not the imagining kind yet!" She snatched up the telephone instrument. "Hello," said Judith. "Who is it?" It was the telegraph operator in Rocky Bend. A message for Miss Judith Sanford from Pollock Hampton, San Francisco. And the message ran: What were you thinking of to chuck Trevors?
The hand treated first, it was slow, tedious business seeking to remove the traces of his recent encounter with Trevors; and, though he could wash his face and manage a change of clothes, there was nothing dapper about the result.
"You talk soft with me, Trevors!" cried the girl passionately, "if you want to hold your job five minutes! I'll tolerate none of your high and mighty airs!" Trevors laughed at her, a sneer in his laugh. "I talk the way I talk," he answered roughly. "If people don't like the sound of it they don't have to listen!
"You can't do a thing like this!" snapped Trevors, after one swift glance at the papers he had whisked out of their covering. "I can't, can't I?" she jeered at him. "Don't you fool yourself for one little minute! Pack your little trunk and hammer the trail." "I'll do nothing of the kind. Why, I don't know even who you are! You say that you are Judith Sanford." He shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Johnny Hodge, then," she commanded. "Or Tod Bruce or Bing Kelley. They all know me." "Fired long ago, all of them," laughed Trevors, "to make room for competent men." "To make room for more crooks!" she cried, her own brown hands balled into fists scarcely less hard than Trevors's had been. Then for the third time she turned upon Lee. "You are one of his new thieves, I suppose?"
"Life hath its May, and all is joyous then; The woods are vocal and the flowers breathe odour, The very breeze hath, mirth in't." At last the longed-for yet dreaded day approached, and a letter informed the Trevors that Mr. and Mrs. Williams would arrive at Southampton on July 5th, and would probably reach Ayrton the evening after.
Trevors, irritated already, turned hard eyes up at her from under corrugated brows. He did not move in his chair. Nor did Lee stir except that now he removed his hat. "I am Trevors," said the general manager curtly. "And, whether you are Judith Sanford or the Queen of Siam, I am busy right now." "He got the queen idea, too!" was the quick thought back of Bud Lee's fading smile.
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