"O, love and all that kind of thing."
"I'd like a drink of water, please!" Douglas opened his eyes.
"Have you been listening, Douglas?" demanded Judith.
"I don't think I missed any of it," Doug smiled. "You're growing up,
Jude."
Judith tossed her head. "I think it was rotten of you to listen to my conversation with another man!" And although she and Peter talked in a desultory way until dawn, the vasty subject of love was not mentioned again.
About ten o'clock the next morning Charleton Falkner came to see Douglas. He hardly had established himself when the thunder of many hoofs sounded without, a wrangling of dogs began, and John Spencer thrust open the door to Peter's living quarters. He was spattered with mud from head to foot. So was Scott Parsons, who followed him, as well as Sheriff Frank Day and Jimmy Day, who brought up the procession.
Judith, who had been washing dishes, hastily dumped the dish-water out of the window. Charleton, with his familiar, sardonic grin, propped Douglas up on a pillow.
"What're you bringing him in here for, John?" demanded Peter harshly.
"Doug's in no state for a row."
"I don't know why not!" exclaimed Douglas coolly. "I don't have to talk or listen with my shoulder. Where'd you pick him up, Dad?"
"Never mind that!" replied John impatiently. "He's here. What do you want done with him, Doug?"