"Keep your fool mouth shut, Doug," whispered the postmaster. "You've got from now to September first to sidetrack this thing."
"If Jude passes her word to him, she'll go. And you know as well as I do, Peter, that most anybody would sell their soul to ride in that rodeo with a fine outfit."
"Certainly, I know it. But you keep out of it for a while."
"Peter, I can't! When Dad gets to working on Judith, I see red. Listen!
Just listen!"
Stillness and starlight and John's voice rich and sweet as Peter never had heard it.
"You're beautiful, Judith! A beautiful woman! Let me dress you as you ought to be dressed, give you the right kind of a horse, and the whole of the rodeo will be yours. I tell you, girl, all you've got to do is to ask me for what you want."
"Do other folks call me beautiful, Dad?" Judith's voice was breathless.
"Why do you call me Dad? I'm not your father, thank God!"
Douglas strode out of the shed and up to the fence, followed by Peter on
Yankee.
"I don't want to quarrel with you, Dad—" he began, furiously.