"You're about as near right on that as might be expected of a layman," retorted the Colonel. "Just about. The law is the perfection of human reason. The jury had found that Amelia Whinnery couldn't speak, and never would be able to. A jury had rendered a verdict to that effect, and judgment for ten thousand dollars had been entered upon it. I merely pointed out to the Supreme Court that they could consider errors in the record only, and that it was the grossest sort of pettifogging and ignorance of the law for Absalom Scales to come in and introduce such an impertinence as evidence--after the evidence was closed--that the fair plaintiff had been shamming and was, in fact, a very free-spoken lady. The bench saw the overpowering logic of this, and read my authorities, and Bob and Amelia will henceforth live in the best house in their town, built out of the C. & S .W. surplus--and Amelia talking sixteen hours a day. It's locally regarded as a good joke on the railroad." "But was it honest?" queried the Bride. "Honest, me lady!" repeated the Colonel, _a la_ Othello. "My dear young lady, the courts are not to be criticized--ever remember that!" * * * * * "That makes me think," said the Hired Man, "of the darndest thing--" "In that case," said the Poet, "your name will be considered drawn for the next number. Save this darndest thing for its own occasion--which will be at our next camp. Oneiros beckons, and I go." "In that case," said Aconite, "I'd go, you bet!" CHAPTER IX Coming in from the right as they took the open trail again, the Cody Road beckoned them eastward, as a side road always beckons to the true wanderer. "What does it run to?" asked the Groom. "Wyoming," responded Aconite. "It's nothing but scenery and curiosities." "Let's follow it a little way," suggested the Bride, "and see how we like it" Three miles or so on the way, the surrey halted at a beautiful little lake, which lay like a fragment broken off Yellowstone Lake, the shore of which lay only a stone's throw to the right. They walked over to the big lake to bid it farewell. A score of miles to the south lay Frank Island, and still farther away, shut off by the fringe of rain from a thunder shower, the South Arm seemed to run in behind Chicken Ridge and take to the woods. To the southwest stood Mount Sheridan, and peeping over his shoulder the towering Tetons solemnly refused even to glimmer a good-by. "For all that," said the Bride, "_au revoir_! We'll come back one of these days, won't we, Billy?" "Sure!" said Billy. "I'm coming up to put in a power plant in the Grand Cañon, one of these days. This scenery lacks the refining touch of the spillway and the penstock!"