to the
ranch; and of that he had no proof. As to his suspicions--well, he
considered that Dick had almost paid the penalty for having roused them,
and the matter would have to rest where it was; for Ford was just. As to
the jug, he could empty it upon the ground and be done with that
particular form of torture. But he felt sure that Josephine was secretly
"keeping cases" on the jug; and Ford was stubborn.

That night Ford did not respond to the tinkle of the tea bell. His head
ached abominably, and he did not want to see Josephine's averted face
opposite him at the table. He lay still upon the bed where he had
finally thrown himself, and let the bell tinkle until it was tired.

They sent Buddy in to see why he did not come. Buddy looked at him with
the round, curious eyes of precocious childhood and went back and
reported that Ford wasn't asleep, but was just lying there mad. Ford
heard the shrill little voice innocently maligning him, and swore to
himself; but, he did not move for all that. He lay thinking and fighting
discouragement and thirst, while little table sounds came through the
partition and made a clicking accompaniment to his thoughts.

If he were free, he was wondering between spells of temptation, would it
do any good? Would Josephine care? There was no answer to that, or if
there was he did not know what it was.

After awhile the two women began talking; he judged that Buddy had left
them, because it was sheer madness to speak so freely before him. At
first he paid no attention to what they were saying, beyond a grudging
joy in the sound of Josephine's voice. It had come to that, with Ford!
But when he heard his name spoken, and by her, he lifted shamelessly to
an elbow and listened, glad that the walls were so thin, and that those
who dwell in thin-partitioned houses are prone to forget that the other
rooms may not be quite empty. They two spent most of their waking hours
alone together, and habit breeds carelessness always.

"Do you suppose he's drunk?" Mrs. Kate asked, and her voice was full of
uneasiness. "Chester says he's terrible when he gets started. I was sure
he was perfectly safe! I just can't stand it to have him like this.
Dick told me he's drinking a little all the time, and there's no telling
when he'll break out, and--Oh, I think it's perfectly terrible!"

"Hsh-sh," warned Josephine.

"He went out, quite a while ago. I heard him," said Mrs. Kate, with rash
certainty. "He hasn't be