"Well, Lee," said Judith sharply, "where do you get off? Do you want to stick? Or shall I count you out?" "I guess," said Bud very gently, "you'd better count me out." "You're going with that crook?" "No. I'm going on my own." "Why? You're getting good money here. If you're square I'll keep you at the same figure." But Bud shook his head. "I'm game to play square," he said slowly. "I'll stick a week, giving you the chance to get a man in my place. That's all." "What's the matter with you?" she cried hotly. "Why won't you stay with your job? Is it because you don't want to take orders from me?" Then Lee lifted his grave eyes to hers and answered simply: "That's it. I'm not saying you're not all right. But I got it figured out, there's just two kinds of ladies. If you want to know, I don't see that you've got any call to tie into a man's job." "Oh, scat!" cried the girl angrily. "You men make me tired. Two kinds of ladies! And ten thousand kinds of men! You want me to dress like a doll, I suppose, and keep my hands soft and white and go around like a brainless, simpering fool! There _are_ two kinds of _ladies_, my fine friend: the kind that can and the kind that can't! Thank God I'm none of your precious, sighing, hothouse little fools!" Gulping down a last mouthful of coffee, she was on her feet and passed swiftly out among the men. "You men!" she cried, and they turned sober eyes upon her, "listen to me! You've heard that big stiff rant; now hear me! I'm here because I belong here. My dad was Luke Sanford and he made this ranch. I was raised here. It's two-thirds mine right now. Trevors there is a crook and I told him so. He's been trying to sell me out, to make such a failure of the outfit that I'd have to let it go for a comic song. He got gay and I fired him. He tried to manhandle me and I plugged him. And now I am going to run my own outfit! What have you got to say about it, you grumbling old grouch with the crooked face! Put up or shut up! I'm calling you!" The men turned from her to Ward Hannon, the field foreman, who had been Trevors's right-hand man and who now was sneering openly. "I'm saying it's no work for a kid of a girl," grumbled Hannon. "You run an outfit like this?" He laughed derisively. "It can't be did." "It can't, can't it?" cried Judith. "Tell me why, old smarty. Spit it out lively." Jake Carson's shrill cackle cut through a low rumble of laughter. "That's passing it to him straight," said the old cattleman. "What's the word, Ward?" Ward Hannon shrugged his shoulders and spat impudently. "I ain't saying nothing," he growled, "only this: I got a right to quit, ain't I? Well, I'm quitting. Any time you ketch me working for a female girl that can't ride a horse 'thout falling off, that can't see a pig stuck 'thout fainting, that can't walk a mile 'thout getting laid up, that can't. . . ."