"How often do you see her?" demanded Douglas quickly. "I guess she has a right to come to my house as often as she wants to." "No, she hasn't," brusquely. Inez sniffed, then smiled. She had a frank and lovely smile. Douglas' face softened and they finished the waltz in silence. Not all the music was of the cheaply popular variety. Between dances Peter slipped on occasional opera records. He was playing from _Martha_: "Ah, so pure, so bright, Burst her beauty upon my sight, Ah, so mild, ah, so divine She beguiled this heart of mine." when a man called from the open door, "Good evening, folks!" "Why, it's Scott Parsons!" cried Grandma Brown. There was a pause, during which the tender voice of the phonograph thrilled on. Young Jeff, his red face even redder than his visits to the pail would warrant, put his hand to his hip. Judith darted before him and ran the length of the room. "Hello, Scott! Welcome home! The next dance is yours." "No, it's not!" shouted John Spencer. "You let Judith alone, you blank young outlaw you!" "Get out of my way, Jude!" shouted Young Jeff. "I told Scott not to come back to Lost Chief!" He strode down the room, his hand still on his gun. Scott's hand had been equally quick. Peter Knight turned off the machine. "Hold on, Jeff!" he cried. "You turned Scott over to the law, and the law acquitted him. If you'd wanted to take things in your own hands, you should have done so before the trial. If you kill Scott, you're no better than he is." "That's right!" cried Grandma Brown. "And your record ain't so clean, Young Jeff, that you can afford to start anything!" Judith tossed her head. "I don't see why Young Jeff should be allowed to spoil a perfectly good party." "If you can't put him out, Jude, I can!" cried Inez. Everybody laughed. Jude seized one of Young Jeff's big hands, Inez the other. There was an uproarious scuffle which ended in the three, laughing immoderately, executing a hybrid folk dance to the one-step which Peter began to play. And Scott danced unmolested during the remainder of the night. Charleton Falkner had drunk a good deal but was as yet little the worse for it. He and Douglas met at the pail shortly after midnight. Charleton gave the young man an amused glance. "You look sort of bored, Doug! Come outside and talk a little." Douglas gave a quick glance around the hall--at Judith, swooping in great circles with Scott Parsons, at Inez dancing with his father. "All right!" he said, and followed Charleton out into the moonlight. They perched on the buck fence and smoked for a time in silence. "That's a good horse of Young Jeff's, eh?" said Charleton finally. "Not as good as the dapple gray he gave me will be when I get time to break him," replied Douglas. "I don't know! I'm not as interested in things as I was." "What's the matter?" asked Charleton, sympathetically. "I guess Oscar's killing upset me," said Douglas vaguely.