"Ophelia!" he cried huskily. "Oh, Ophelia!" and the minister's three
small sons, pausing in their play in the grassless yard at the side of
the house, while they watched the beautiful car standing in front of
the parsonage gate, saw the owner of the Quarter Circle KT, in broad
daylight, on the principal residence street of Eagle Butte, before the
eyes of the whole world--if the whole world cared to look--throw his
arms around the plump lady sitting beside him and press one long,
rapturous kiss on her moist, unresisting lips!

A moment later Ophelia and Old Heck, both much embarrassed but
tremulously happy, stepped inside the door of the parsonage.

They were driving away from the minister's house--going to the
Occidental Hotel for a little all-by-their-ownselves "wedding
luncheon"--before either thought of the matter concerning which Ophelia
had desired to see the clergyman's wife.

"Gee whiz!" Old Heck exclaimed, "you forgot that consultation or
whatever it was with Mrs. Patterson to start your woman's suffrage
'movement'--"

"To start my what?"

"Your 'woman's rights,' 'female voter's organization'--or whatever it
is!" Old Heck explained, a new-born tolerance in his voice. "I didn't
mean to interfere with your political activities--"

Ophelia threw back! her head, while a ripple of laughter trilled out
above the purr of the Clagstone "Six."

"Why, my dear--dear--Old Boy!" she cried, "I am not engaged in
'political activities,' or 'suffragette movements!' Of course," she
continued archly, "I believe women ought to be allowed to vote--if they
haven't intelligence enough for that they haven't brains enough to be
good 'pardners' with their husbands--"

"By gosh, you're right!" Old Heck agreed, "I never thought of it that
way before!"

"And," she continued, "naturally I shall vote whenever the opportunity
comes, but I'm not an 'Organizer' for anything of that kind. Mrs.
Patterson and I are going to organize the wives, sisters and
sweethearts, in Eagle Butte, into a club for the study of 'Scientific
and Efficient Management of the Home!' We think we should be as
proficient in those arts--and which we believe are peculiarly womanly
functions--as the men are in the direction of the more strenuous
business affairs in which they themselves are engaged."

"So that's what you're an 'Organizer' for?" Old Heck queried while a
radiant contentment spread over his face.

"That is it," Ophelia said simply, adding with