The Fighting Shepherdess

Mormon Joe had underestimated Jasper Toomey's capacity for extravagance and mismanagement when he had given him five years to "go broke" in, as he had accomplished it in four most effectively--so completely, in fact, that they had moved into town with only enough furniture to furnish a small house, which they spoke of as having "rented," though as yet the owner had had nothing but promises to compensate him for their occupancy.

It was close to a year after their advent in Prouty that Mrs. Toomey awakened in the small hours, listened a moment, then prodded her husband sharply: "The wind's coming up, Jap, and I left out my washing."

"Never mind--I'll borrow a saddle horse in the morning and go after it."

"Everything will be whipped to ribbons," she declared plaintively.

"I'm not going out this time of night to collect laundry; besides, the exercise would make me hungrier."

"Are you hungry, Jap?"

"Hungry! I've been lying here thinking of everything I ever left on my plate since I was a baby!"

Mrs. Toomey sighed deeply.

"Wouldn't a fat club sandwich with chicken, lettuce, thin bacon and mayonnaise dressing--"

"Hush!" Toomey exploded savagely. "If you say that again I'll dress and go out and rob a hen roost!"

Mrs. Toomey suggested hopefully: "Perhaps if you light the lamp, and smoke, it will take your mind off your stomach."

"I surmise that's all there is on it." Toomey lighted the lamp on the table beside the bed and looked at the clock on the bureau.

"Hours yet, my love, before I can gorge myself on a shredded wheat biscuit."

Mrs. Toomey braided a wisp of hair to an infinitesimal end and said firmly: "Jap, we've simply got to do something! Can't you borrow?"

"Borrow! I couldn't throw a rock inside the city limits without hitting some one to whom I owe money. Come again, Old Dear," mockingly.

"Wouldn't Mormon Joe--"

"I'd starve before I'd ask that sheepherder!" His face darkened to ugliness. "I'm surprised at you--that you haven't more pride. You know he broke me, shutting me off from water with his leases. I've explained all that to you."

She was silent; she didn't have the heart to hit him when he was down, though she had her own opinion as to the cause of his failure.

Since she did not reply, he went on vindictively: "I've come to hate the sight of him--his damned insolence. Every time I see him going into his shack over there," he nodded towards the diagonal corner, "I could burn it."

"It's funny--his building it."

"To save hotel bills when he comes to town. Yes," ironically, "I can see him lending me money." Mrs. Toomey sat up and cried excitedly: "Jap, let's sell something! There's that silver punch bowl that your Uncle Jasper gave us for a wedding present, and Aunt Sarah Page's silver teapot--Mrs. Sudds admires it tremendously."