But she went back to her last year soon after this, intendin' to be the best maid at Jessamie's weddin'. This weddin' was a curious thing an' opened my eyes purty wide to the ways of women. I'd 'a' been willin' to bet my saddle that the one man she never would marry, was Bill; but she owned up herself that she had made up her mind to marry him the first night they met. She wasn't quite sure of it until him an' her had the fall-out over Cupid, and that settled it. She said a man who had the spunk to stick up for his dog the way Bill did would be a purty handy kind to have around the house, an' she was just tryin' him out to see how far he'd go. She was actually fond of dogs all the time, especially bulldogs. A girl-baby three years old could have fooled Methusaleh in his prime, an' that means after he'd had about six hundred years of experience. She's a wonderful invention, woman. All the while before Barbie left, she was tryin' to plan out what use she was goin' to put her edication to. Sometimes she was minded to go on the stage, at others lawyerin' looked good to her, but most of the time she seemed to think that a female doctor would come nearer fittin' her than anything else. Me an' Jabez worried about it a heap; but we was wise enough to hide it. We knew that Barbie carted around at all times what they call a spirit of combativity, which fattened on opposition, an' we preferred to let her scrap it out with herself, hopin' that what she finally decided on would be all for the best. Jabez said good-bye at the edge of the ranch, while I drove her over to Webb Station. I kind o' fought shy of Danders 'cause it seemed to me that the' was always some kind of a job waitin' for me there, an' Barbie had left me a heap of work for that winter. "Have you learned anything yet?" she asked me, after the train had pulled into sight an' we was shakin' hands. "Not a thing for certain," sez I. "I've stumbled onto several rumors, but they always went out. Do you still study over it much, Barbie?" "Never a day goes by but what I study over it," sez she. "There isn't anything I wouldn't give to know about my mother--all about her." "Are you sure, Barbie?" said I. She thought hard a minute, an' then she threw back her head an' looked into my eyes. "Yes," she said, in a low tone, "I'd give everything--even the love and respect I feel for my father." I gave a little shiver. "Barbie," I sez, "I don't think you'll ever have to pay that high a price. I never saw your Dad cruel in cold blood, an' he's purty just." "Oh, I would rather die than find out that he'd ever been cruel to my mother; but I do want to know about her; and some day I will." She squeezed my hand hard and her eyes were wet with tears when she stepped on the train; but she tried to smile, she sure did. CHAPTER TWENTY RICHARD WHITTINGTON ARRIVES