They rode on past a stockyard, and into a rutted street of bare frame houses, and Hetty was glad they scarcely met anybody. Then, Larry helped her down, and, thrusting a wallet into her hands, knocked at the door of a house beside a store. The man who opened it stared at them, and when Larry had drawn him aside called his wife. She took Hetty's chilled hand in both her own, and the storekeeper smiled at Larry. "You come right along and put some of my things on," he said. "Then, you are going with me to have breakfast at the hotel, and talk to the judge. I guess the women aren't going to have any use for us." It was some time later when they came back to the store, and for just a minute Grant saw Hetty alone. She was dressed very plainly in new garments, and blushed when he looked gravely down on her. "That dress is not good enough for you," he said. "It is very different from what you have been accustomed to." Hetty glanced at him shyly. "You will have very few dollars to spare, Larry, until the trouble's through," she said, "and you will be my husband in an hour or two." XXX LARRY'S WEDDING DAY Hetty was married in haste, without benefit of clergy, while several men, with resolute faces, kept watch outside the judge's door, and two who were mounted sat gazing across the prairie on a rise outside the town. After the declarations were made and signed, the judge turned to Hetty, who stood smiling bravely, though her eyes were a trifle misty, by Larry's side. "Now I have something to tell your husband, Mrs. Grant," he said. "You will have to spare him for about five minutes." Hetty's lips quivered, for she recognized the gravity of his tone, and it was not astonishing that for a moment or two she turned her face aside. She had endeavoured to look forward hopefully and banish regrets; but the prosaic sordidness of the little dusty office, and the absence of anything that might have imparted significance or dignity to the hurried ceremony, had not been without their effect. She had seen other weddings in New York as well as in the cattle country, and knew what pomp and festivities would have attended hers had she married with her father's goodwill. After all, it was the greatest day in most women's lives, and she felt the unseemliness of the rite that had made her and Larry man and wife. Still, the fact remained, and, brushing her misgivings away, she glanced up at her husband. "It must concern us both now," she said. "May I hear?" "Well," said the judge, who looked a trifle embarrassed, "I guess you are right, and Larry would have to tell you; but it's not a pleasant task to me. It is just this--we can't keep you and your husband any longer in this town." "Are you against us, too?" Hetty asked, with a flash in her eyes. "I am not afraid."