CHAPTER III
THE GRADUATION DANCE
"Horses, dogs, guns, women, whiskey, the open country of the Rockies—enough for any man."
INSTEAD of riding home with Judith, after the ceremony, Douglas, on sudden impulse, took a roundabout way to the post-office, thence toward the Browns' ranch. Dusk was settling in the valley. The quivering aspens along Lost Chief creek were etched gray rose on the deep blue snow. Far to the east a single scarlet mountain-top pierced through the twilight blue. Buster loped swiftly through the swimming landscape.
When he reached the post-office Douglas did not stop but rode on along Black Gulch trail to the Browns'. Grandma, returning by the direct route from the cemetery, had been home for a half-hour before Doug arrived. She was coming out of the cow stable, lantern in hand, when the boy dismounted at the corral. Spurs clanking, brave chaps flapping, Douglas ran to her like a child and caught her apron in his gauntleted hand.
"Grandma! Tell me something! Did you believe what you said at the grave?"
The old lady held the lantern up to his face. "Come into the cow stable out of the wind, Doug."
Within the dim shelter she hung the lantern on a nail and sat down on a box, indicating another to the young rider.
"Yes, I believed it, boy. Didn't you?"
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