The almighty fine woman settled back against the stiff leather seat and looked at the bleak wastes they were threading. Johnson eased his mules down the slopes, taking rare heed of the going. Ordinarily she would have been in terror of the perils of this climb-and-drop road, but the driver appeared to entertain no doubts and merely clucked at the hybrids or abused them in emotionless harangues. It must have begotten confidence, for she gave no more than the tiniest squeak when they shot abruptly from a shelf of rock and sped downward at a gallop, the buckboard leaping off rocks and ruts and banging at the mules' legs. There was a sharp curve at the bottom of the descent, and for a wild moment Mrs. MacFarlane wondered if it were possible he perceived this. "The brake's done bust," said Lafe, as though the matter were scarcely worth mention. They took the curve on two wheels, sending sand and pebbles in all directions, and he pulled the team to a halt. Then he got out, handing the reins to her, for which she beamed on him. Johnson repaired the brakes with a bit of wood and some rope, and they went forward again. "I done told ol' Biggerstaff that this brake was no good," he said. "I'd mention it to him again," Mrs. MacFarlane suggested mildly. He was very grateful, too, because she forbore to grab at the reins more than once in dangerous spots. The sparkling air and the stern beauty of the mountain country they entered seemed to soothe her. Soon she was chatting vivaciously, but when the sun climbed to his strength, her lids drooped. The talk became broken and lazily intimate. Suddenly Mrs. MacFarlane sat up with a gasp. "Why, I've just remembered. How on earth did I ever forget it? Hetty Ferrier!" The widow pronounced Hetty's name as a magician would a talisman. Lafe went very red in the face and asked in a constrained voice whether she knew that lady. "Know her? I guess I do. Why, Hetty and my young sister were playmates. She used to live where I come from. We heard from her and she told us--" Mrs. MacFarlane did not state what Hetty had told them, but settled herself to study Lafe, with the privileged frankness conferred by her information. He bore the scrutiny well, giving all his attention to the mules, but he was thankful for the bumps that distracted the widow and made her clutch his elbow to avoid being thrown out. "Isn't it funny I shouldn't have thought about you and her before? It's a small world, isn't it? Of course she told me you were sheriff of Badger. You're a very lucky man, Mr. Johnson," she said. Lafe could find no words for the moment. At last: "You see, ma'am, her and me are fixing to get married." "Huh!" said the widow. "Did you think I didn't know that? How is Hetty?" "She's fine, thanks." "I don't need to ask if she's happy?" "Happy as the dealer in a big jackpot," said the sheriff, much pleased. The widow appeared to comprehend.