thousand kinds of men! You want me to dress like a
doll, I suppose, and keep my hands soft and white and go around like a
brainless, simpering fool! There _are_ two kinds of _ladies_, my fine
friend: the kind that can and the kind that can't! Thank God I'm none
of your precious, sighing, hothouse little fools!"

Gulping down a last mouthful of coffee, she was on her feet and passed
swiftly out among the men.

"You men!" she cried, and they turned sober eyes upon her, "listen to
me! You've heard that big stiff rant; now hear me! I'm here because I
belong here. My dad was Luke Sanford and he made this ranch. I was
raised here. It's two-thirds mine right now. Trevors there is a crook
and I told him so. He's been trying to sell me out, to make such a
failure of the outfit that I'd have to let it go for a comic song. He
got gay and I fired him. He tried to manhandle me and I plugged him.
And now I am going to run my own outfit! What have you got to say
about it, you grumbling old grouch with the crooked face! Put up or
shut up! I'm calling you!"

The men turned from her to Ward Hannon, the field foreman, who had been
Trevors's right-hand man and who now was sneering openly.

"I'm saying it's no work for a kid of a girl," grumbled Hannon. "You
run an outfit like this?" He laughed derisively. "It can't be did."

"It can't, can't it?" cried Judith. "Tell me why, old smarty. Spit it
out lively."

Jake Carson's shrill cackle cut through a low rumble of laughter.
"That's passing it to him straight," said the old cattleman. "What's
the word, Ward?"

Ward Hannon shrugged his shoulders and spat impudently. "I ain't
saying nothing," he growled, "only this: I got a right to quit, ain't
I? Well, I'm quitting. Any time you ketch me working for a female
girl that can't ride a horse 'thout falling off, that can't see a pig
stuck 'thout fainting, that can't walk a mile 'thout getting laid up,
that can't. . . ."

"Slow up there!" called Judith. "Didn't I stick a pig already this
morning, and have I keeled over yet? Didn't I ride the forty miles
from Rocky Bend last night and get here before sun-up? Listen to me,
chief kicker: If you've got a horse on the ranch I can't ride I'll quit
right now and give you my job! How's that strike you? I tell you the
word on this ranch is going to be: 'Put up or shut up!' Which is it,
Growly?"

Again the men laughed and Hannon's face showed his anger.

"Mean that, l