"Here's a letter from the old man. He wants Donald. You can see for yourself what he says." Glendon handed her the letter, allowing it to drop from his fingers purposely, watching her as she reached down and picked it up. As she read, a grey pallor spread over her face, making it look old and haggard. J. M. Glendon, Jr. Circle Cross Ranch, Arizona. _Dear Sir:_ From reliable sources I have learned of your conduct since you went to Arizona, and understand that my ambition to see my son a man among men will never be gratified; nor will your influence or example make such a man of my grandson, Donald. The full realization of this has prompted me to break my determination never to communicate with you again on any subject. Your wife is too egotistical and assertive, and her influence over the boy cannot fail to be detrimental. Women have no idea how to bring up a boy, especially college-bred women with their fads and theories. They have no judgment outside of flattery; they are all fools,--I do not care where you go, or who the woman may be,--and the man who tries to please a woman's whims is a fool. My lawyer tells me that under the laws of Arizona you are absolute guardian of your child; so the decision as to my offer rests entirely with you. Your wife, legally, has no voice in the matter of selecting a school or any other arrangements you may see fit to make. It is time for you to assert yourself. I will take Donald and educate him, provided he is given to me absolutely until he is of age, but I will not allow any interference with him or my plans for him. I will see that he does not grow up with any sickly, sentimental ideas, but to weigh his own interests first, without illusions about life or women. He will be taught that all women are inferior in intellect and reason, weak in moral force and must be treated accordingly. If he is sent to me, I will see that he is provided for during my lifetime, and at my death he will receive what you have forfeited by your own conduct. I have selected a school for him which he can attend from my house, and where he will receive the training I consider necessary to make him the kind of man I desire. An immediate answer will oblige. Yours truely, J. M. GLENDON, SR. The pages fluttered to the floor of the porch, and then Donnie looked up startled at the tone of his mother's voice, when she said, "Run away and play with Tatters, dear." With a hasty caress, the boy, followed by the dog, moved slowly toward the front gate. "Well," Glendon's irritable tones sounded in her ears, "how soon can you get him ready?" "Let me keep him a little longer, Jim," pleaded the mother. "He's only a baby yet."