have a dance, but there was nothing doing. He just gave us all a jaw because our horses were sweating."
"I'll bet Swift was the worst off," chuckled John.
'That's right! Pick on me!" cried Judith.
"Judith! Be careful!" protested her mother.
"Let her alone, Mary." John's blue eyes twinkled as he watched the young girl. "She's kept out of a row about as long as she can without choking."
"Some day, when you least expect it," said Judith with a little quiver in her voice, "I'm going to run away."
The others laughed.
"Where to, Jude?" asked her stepfather.
"To some place where folks like me."
"I like you, Jude!" protested John.
Judith turned to him quickly. "Why do you thrash me and kick me, then?"
"Kids have to be trained, and you are as hard bitted as Buster," answered John.
"No such thing!" Judith suddenly rose from the table. "It's just bad temper."
"Judith! Judith! Don't!" pleaded her mother.
"Let her alone!" John's voice was not angry. He was eying Judith with inscrutable gaze.
"The next time you even try to kick me, I'm going to run away."
She paused and suddenly Douglas thought, "Jude knows what real loneliness is. She's a very lonely person." He leaned forward and watched her with unwonted sympathy. She swallowed once or twice, and then went on:
"A woman, a dog, and a horse, you don't kick any of them. Peter Knight says so. Maud Day's father never kicks her. He hits her with a belt, maybe, when she
