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Updated: June 13, 2025
It was after daybreak when Parker rode into the Starkweather ranch, and presented himself at the kitchen door. The night air had sobered him, but it had done nothing more. Idy was standing by the stove with her back toward him. She turned when she heard his step. "Why, Park!" she said, with a start; then she put up her hand. "Don't make a noise. Pappy's sick." He came toward her hesitatingly.
He looked across the lake, and essayed a yawn with feeble success. "There was a good many standin' around when I got there. What sort o' lookin' felluh was he?" "I just told ye; with a sandy mustache, short, and middlin' heavy set." "Sh-h-h!" said Parker, reaching for his gun. Idy stopped the horses.
He put down the list of groceries that Aunt Libby had written out for him, because he couldn't remember things very well, and commenced to lay down the law. "Such carryin's on in the house o' God!" he snorted. "Why the very idy! Talk about them Pharisees an' Sadducees a-makin' the temple a den o' thieves! W'y, you're a-turnin' it into a theayter with your play-actin' tomfoolery!
"Barden," supplied the young man, carelessly. Idy sank back against the corral fence as if she were stunned. "Barden!" she repeated helplessly. "Is your name Barden?" "Yes." She stood breathless a moment, and then burst out: "An' you're him! you an' doin' this way, after the way you've done an' him sick an' me talkin' to ye an' an' everything!"
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