ixed that up
between them, anyway. That's to be your home; so my saying so is just
an extra rope to bring you along peaceable. You're going to stay at
the Bar Nothing. And I'm going to make a top hand outa you, Jean. I'm
going to teach you to shoot and rope and punch cows and ride, till
there won't be a girl in the United States to equal you."

"What for?" Jean still had an air of sullen apathy. "That won't help
dad any."

"It'll start the world moving again." Lite forced himself to
cheerfulness in the face of his own despondency. "You say it's
stopped. It's us that have stopped. We've come to a blind pocket, you
might say, in the trail we've been taking through life. We've got to
start in a new place, that's all. Now, I know you're dead game, Jean;
at least I know you used to be, and I'm gambling on school not taking
that outa you. You're maybe thinking about going away off somewhere
among strangers; but that wouldn't do at all. Your dad always counted
on keeping you away from town life. I'm just going to ride herd on
you, Jean, and see to it that you go on the way your dad wanted you to
go. He can't be on the job, and so I'm what you might call his
foreman. I know how he wants you to grow up; I'm going to make it my
business to grow you according to directions."

He saw a little quirk of her lips, at that, and was vastly encouraged
thereby.

"Has it struck you that you're liable to have your hands full?" she
asked him with a certain drawl that Jean had possessed since she first
learned to express herself in words.

"Sure! I'll likely have both hand and my hat full of trouble. But
she's going to be done according to contract. I reckon I'll wish you
was a bronk before I'm through--"

"What maddens me so that I could run amuck down this street, shooting
everybody I saw," Jean flared out suddenly, "is the sickening injustice
of it. Dad never did that; you know he never did it." She turned upon
him fiercely. "Do you think he did?" she demanded, her eyes boring
into his.

"Now, that's a bright question to be asking me, ain't it?" Lite
rebuked. "That's a real bright, sensible question, I must say! I
reckon you ought to be stood in the corner for that,--but I'll let it
go this time. Only don't never spring anything like that again."

Jean looked ashamed. "I could doubt God Himself, right now," she
gritted through her teeth.

"Well, don't doubt me, unless you want a scrap on your hands," L