Ruth did not make the mistake of letting the governor see her in the rough-and-ready ranch costume to which she was accustomed. She dressed her hair with care and wore a simple gown that set off the slender fullness of her figure. When she came lightly and swiftly to meet them as the car drew up at the Circle Diamond, her guests were impressed anew with the note of fineness, of personal distinction. There was, too, something gallant and spirited in the poise of the small head set so fastidiously upon the rounded throat. Mrs. McDowell always admired tremendously her school companion. She was more proud of her than ever now, and as she dressed for dinner she attacked her husband. “You’ve got to do something for her, Phil. That’s all there’s to it. I can’t look that brave girl in the face if you don’t let her husband out of prison.” He was wrestling with a collar and a reluctant button. “H’mp!” he grunted. “And that baby—did you ever see such a darling? It’s a crime to keep his father away from him.” “It’s a crime to keep a lot of men in prison, but we do it.” “I’m not worrying about the rest of them. But Ruth’s husband—you’ve just got to let him out.” She came in and perched herself down on a couch beside him and cuddled him in a cajoling fashion she had. “You can’t bribe me, young lady,” he blustered. “Don’t you see that I can’t let McCoy out unless I parole his accomplices, too? This isn’t a matter to be decided by personal friendship. I’ve got to do what’s right—what seems right to the average sense of the community.” “Do you think it’s right to keep Ruth’s husband shut up from her and the baby?” she demanded indignantly. “I don’t know. I wish I did.” “You told me yourself that he’s a fine man,” Louise reminded him triumphantly. “I talk too much,” he groaned humorously. “But say he is. The penitentiaries are full of fine men. I can’t free them all. He and his friends killed two men. That’s the point. I can’t turn them all loose in a year. Folks would say it was because I’m a cattleman and that Rowan and Brad Rogers are my friends. What’s more, they would have a right to say it.” Ruth and Tim Flanders showed the guests over the ranch, and afterward in the absence of the mistress, who was in the kitchen consulting with Mrs. Stovall about the dinner, the owner of the Dude Ranch sang her praises with enthusiasm: “I never saw her beat, Phil. That slim little girl you could break in two over your knee has got more git-up-and-dust than any man I know. Mac wanted her to sell the ranch and live off the proceeds. Did she do it? Not so you could notice it. She grabbed hold with both hands, cleared off the debts of the trial, wiped off the mortgage, got a permit to run a big bunch of cattle on the reserve, and has made money hand over fist. Now she’s in lettuce an’ I’m blamed if I don’t think she’s liable to make some money out of it. Two or three others are aimin’ to put some out next year.”