"I don't believe it's the world. Not from the books I read. I think it's
just Lost Chief. The old folks in my day had real influence in the
valley. There were many like Grandma Brown. But now! Why, your father
will never be the good influence his father was, and I'd never be like
Grandma. I don't know why."

"You can't even train your own daughter," said Douglas with entire
frankness.

"Can the other mothers?" asked Mary resentfully. "What can I do when the
other mothers are so easy?"

"It ain't exactly easy." Douglas spoke thoughtfully. "The Lord knows, all
the kids in Lost Chief work hard enough and get walloped enough."

Mary sighed deeply. Douglas watched her face, so like Judith's but
bearing tragic lines it would have broken his heart to see around
Judith's young lips. With unwonted gentleness he leaned over to put his
hand on Mary's while he smiled at her half sadly.

"Poor Mother! We are an ornery lot! But you are as good as gold, and Jude
and I both know it!"

Quick tears stung Mary's gray eyes. She lifted his hand to her cheek for
a moment, then, as he drew it away, she tried to return his smile. But
nothing more was said until they reached home.

Just as they entered the living-room, Judith rushed in,

"I hate Dad! I hate him! Scott and I were jogging home by way of the west