not to let herself sulk or be a spitfire. Maybe
he would not get tired of her if she worked real hard to suit him.

The hotel was an adobe building. In the doorway stood a woman leaning
against the jamb. She was smoking a cigar. June looked twice at her
before she believed her eyes.

The woman took the cigar from between her lips. "Are you the children
Blister Haines just married?" she asked bluntly.

"We--we've just been married by Mr. Haines," Bob replied with an attempt
at dignity.

The blue eyes of the woman softened as she looked at June--softened
indescribably. They read instantly the doubt and loneliness of the child.
She threw the cigar into the street and moved swiftly toward the bride. A
moment before she had been hard and sexless, in June's virgin eyes almost
a monstrosity. Now she was all mother, filled with the protective
instinct.

"I'm Mollie Gillespie--keep the hotel here," she explained. "You come
right in an' I'll fix up a nice room for you, my dearie. You can wash up
after yore ride and you'll feel a lot better. I'll have Chung Lung cook
you both a bit of supper soon as he comes back to the kitchen. A good
steak an' some nice French frys, say. With some of the mince pie left
from dinner and a good cup of coffee." Mollie's arm was round June,
petting and comforting her.

June felt and repressed an impulse to tears. "You're mighty good," she
gulped.

The landlady of the Bear Cat House bustled the girl into a room and began
to mother her. Bob hung around the door. He did not know whether he was
expected to come in or stay out, though he knew which he wanted to do.

Mollie sent him about his business. "Scat!" she snapped. "Get outa here,
Mr. Husband, an' don't you show up till five o'clock prompt. Hear me?"

Bob heard and vanished like a tin-canned pup. He was the most relieved
youth in Bear Cat. At least he had a reprieve. Mrs. Gillespie would know
what to do and how to do it.

If being a married man was like this, he did not wonder that Dud
Hollister and Blister Haines felt the way they did toward that holy
estate.

CHAPTER IX

THE WHITE FEATHER

At the appointed time Bob sneaked back to the hotel. He hung around the
lobby for a minute or two, drifted into the saloon and gambling annex,
and presently found himself hanging over the bar because he did not know
what else to do with himself.

Was he to go to the room after June and bring her to supper? Or was he to
wait until she