the antics of a chipmunk, had looked into the dark eyes
when they were like hill fires blazing through mist because of the sunset
light in the crotch of the range.

"I reckon Mr. Tolliver won't let this Houck bully _you_ none," the boy
said.

"I ain't scared of him," she answered.

But June knew there would be small comfort for her in the thought of her
father's protection. She divined intuitively that he would be a liability
rather than an asset in any conflict that might arise between her and
Jake Houck.

"If there was anything I could do--but o' course there ain't."

"No," she agreed. "Oh, well, I'm not worryin'. I'll show him when he
comes back. I'm as big as he is behind a gun."

Bob looked at her, startled. He saw she was whistling to keep up her
courage. "Are you sure enough afraid of him?"

Her eyes met his. She nodded. "He said he was coming back to marry
me--good as said I could like it or lump it, he didn't care which."

"Sho! Tha's jus' talk. No girl has to marry a man if she don't want to.
You don't need any gun-play. He can't make his brags good if you won't
have him. It's a free country."

"If he told you to do something--this Jake Houck--you wouldn't think it
was so free," the girl retorted without any life in her voice.

He jumped up, laughing. "Well, I don't expect he's liable to tell me to
do anything. He ain't ever met up with me. I gotta go peel the spuds for
supper. Don't you worry, June. He's bluffin'."

"I reckon," she said, and nodded a careless good-bye.

CHAPTER IV

CLIPPED WINGS

The Cinderella of Piceance Creek was scrupulously clean even though
ragged and unkempt. Every Saturday night she shooed Pete Tolliver out of
the house and took a bath in the tub which usually hung suspended from a
wooden peg driven into the outer wall of the log cabin. Regularly as
Monday came wash day.

On a windy autumn day, with the golden flames of fall burning the foliage
of the hill woods, June built a fire of cottonwood branches near the
brook and plunged with fierce energy into the week's washing. She was a
strong, lithe young thing and worked rapidly. Her methods might not be
the latest or the best, but they won results. Before the sun had climbed
halfway to its zenith she had the clothes on the line.

Since she had good soapy suds and plenty of hot water left in the iron
kettle, June decided to scrub the bed covers. Twenty minutes later,
barefooted and barelegged, her skirts tuck