"Everybody would laugh at me." Judith's voice was doubtful but deeply interested. "What do you think, Peter?"
"Women's clothes are out of my line," replied Peter.
"Aw, don't bribe her, Dad," protested Douglas.
"Bribe her!" snorted John. "For what?"
Peter gave a sardonic laugh that would have done credit to Charleton. "I'm going home, John, before I get hauled in on a family row. Doug, I'm pretty stiff. Will you help me saddle Yankee?"
Douglas rose reluctantly and followed Peter into the shed where Yankee was munching hay.
"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!"
