"Don't call me Judge, when we're alone!" protested Enoch.
Diana with something sweeter than tenderness shining in her great eyes, touched his hand softly with hers.
"No, dear!" she whispered.
Enoch looked at her, drew a deep breath, then put his gun across his arm and followed Diana to the yucca thicket where quail was to be found. They were very silent during the hour of hunting. They bagged a pair of cottontails and a number of quail, and when they did speak, it was only regarding the hunt or the preparations for the coming exodus. They reached camp, just before dinner, Diana disappearing into the tent, and Enoch tramping prosaically and wearily into the cabin to throw himself down on his bunk. He had not yet recovered from the last days in the Canyon.
"You shouldn't have tackled that tramp this morning, Judge," said
Milton. "You should have saved yourself for this afternoon."
"You saw who his side pardner was, didn't you?" asked Curly.
"Yes," replied Milton, grinning.
"Then why make foolish comments?"
"I am a fool!" agreed Milton.
"Judge," asked Curly, "how about you and me having our conflab right after dinner?"