"Jude," he said, "you are on the wrong foot. You ought to let whiskey and Inez Rodman alone."
"Why don't you let 'em alone?" demanded Judith.
"It's different with a man!"
"O, don't give me that old stuff!" cried the girl. "We women do men's work in this valley. We'll have the men's kind of fun if we want it!"
"That's not the point," returned Douglas. "Women have to pay a price the men don't and that's all there is to it."
"It's not fair! It's not fair! I hate the world! I hate it! Looks like you'd either got to be like Mother or Inez Rodman."
"Your mother's all right. Only Dad's broke her just like he broke old Molly horse."
"Did I ever say my mother wasn't all right? Only I'll tell you one thing, Doug Spencer, Inez Rodman's given me more sensible warnings about men than my mother ever did."
Douglas wore a worried expression. "Seems like there's something wrong about that. Mother knows all about those things." He cleared his throat.
The half angry look on Judith's face gave way to a smile.
"O Doug! Doug! You old owl! What's the matter with you? After all, it's good to be alive! I wish I had a horse as good as Buster and I wouldn't ask for much more in life."
"I'll give you Buster," said Douglas suddenly.
Judith's jaw dropped. "Give me Buster!"
"I mean it."
"But—but—why, Douglas, what's happened to you?"
"Judith!" Douglas tossed back his yellow hair and
