"He's awful sore! Acts kind of suspicious of me," said Douglas ruefully.

"A guy like Charleton don't even trust himself." John pitched down a
forkful of hay. "Have you any idea what Maud and Jude are up to?"

"No, sir. Are you worried about her?"

John laughed. "As long as Scott Parsons was with you, why worry? We'd
ought to let Young Jeff run that crook out of the valley."

"I'll do it myself, some day." Douglas squared his big shoulders as he
spoke. He was still very thin and his clothes hung loose on him. But his
father, looking him over, did not smile.

"Go to it, boy," he said.

Douglas had planned to lie awake until Judith returned. But the minute he
touched his pillow he dropped into dreamless slumber from which he did
not waken until breakfast time. John was scolding Judith when Doug
reached the table.

"That's all right, to be so highty-tighty. You can get away with that
with your mother but not with me. It was nearly three o'clock this
morning when you came in."

"O, no, John! It wasn't that late," protested Mary anxiously.

"Now, Mary, don't put up one of your fool lies for the little devil.
I know what time it was. What excuse have you, miss?"