But finally he stammered, "Well, I call being good not drinking or stealing or being loose with men or any of those things--for a girl." "And for a man?" asked Judith, sitting erect. "Aw, who wants a man to be good?" laughed Douglas. "I do," replied Judith, with a sudden thrilling intensity in her young voice. "I want his strength to be as the strength of ten, because his heart is pure," "Judith, you really do?" "Yes, I really do." Douglas drew a long breath. "Judith, would you want me to be that way?" "I sure would." "Well, then, Judith, so help me God, I will be!" Judith put her slender, muscular hand on Doug's, swallowed hard once or twice, but said nothing. Then the tense moment past, she asked, "Honest, Doug, don't you think that was kind of a smart stunt of mine?" "I certainly do," with heart-felt conviction. "But I want you to promise me one thing. That you won't run any more cattle. Will you, Jude?" "I'll promise you, if you'll promise me," returned Judith promptly. "But it's different with a man," repeated Douglas. "But you promised about that other." "That was different. It was something personal between you and me. The other is business." "All right! I don't promise unless you do." "I can't promise, Jude. Honest, I can't." Jude laughed and jumped to her feet. "You are a goose, Doug, but I sure am fond of you." Then she left him. Douglas sat still, his head pressed against the indescribable sweetness of the alfalfa hay, eyes on the wonder of the stars. Finally he said aloud, "I wish there was somebody a fellow could talk to that knows things. I wish my grandfather Douglas was alive. Peter jaws too much. What I want is to know facts, then judge for myself." His father passed by the haystack, pitchfork on shoulder. "Who are you talking to, Doug?" he asked. "The biggest fool in Lost Chief," replied Douglas, rising and following his father to the house. CHAPTER VI LITTLE SWIFT CROSSES THE DIVIDE "Ride 'em till they drop, then break another. That's what Nature does and that's what I do." --_John Spencer_ The following afternoon when Douglas rode after the mail he went round by the west trail to call on Charleton. He found the crippled philosopher propped up in bed, reading the _Atlantic Monthly_ and smoking a pipe. Mrs. Falkner and Little Marion were in the corral doing the chores. "Well, how's the Moose after his disappointment?" asked Charleton. "Going strong! Any news of Scott?" "No; I don't expect any news for a week till I get on my feet." "I guess we might as well let him go and try again without him," said Doug, looking out the door at Little Marion, who was astride a saddleless mule which was doing its best to climb the corral fence. Charleton grinned. "No one can double-cross me without my taking the trouble to show him he can't do it twice, can they, Marion?" as his wife came in with an armload of wood she had just split.