CHAPTER XIII

"I WANT THE WEST AGAIN"

"Mother," cried Jennifer. "Slicker has been talking North-West all the afternoon, and I'm quite drunk with it"

"My dear child," said Jennifer's mother gently. "Please say inebriated;" and then Jennifer laughed, standing in the middle of the room and pushing back her hair into a ruddy glory round her bright face.

"What a darling you are," she said. "Isn't she, Slicker? Mother mine, if I go West again you'll have to come too——"

"But you don't want to go West again, dear."

"But I do. I awfully do. You know I always would begin everything at the beginning—even a book. And they are still beginning at the beginning out there. We'll go back, and drive the trails in a democrat, and be tracked in a York boat, and have half-breed servants who don't know the English for 'Hurry up,' and—for mercy's sake, Slicker! There are visitors! Fly! Fly! I wouldn't have anybody see you in that rig for a pension."

For the benefit of Jennifer's mother Slicker had robed himself in full glory of mooseskin coat, blue shirt and moccasins. He stood his ground now, impudent and delighted.

"Land of Liberty!" he said. "Give a fellow a show, honey. I'll knock 'em in these better than in any store-clothes ever sewn."

"Don't be vulgar." Jennifer was peeping through the curtains. "Oh, it is Mrs. Barrymore and Angela. They are darlings, and I wouldn't so much mind—but Mrs. Chichester is with them, and she's always looking for something to be scandalised about. Will you go, Slicker? Martha will be showing them in just in half a minute."

Slicker sat down.

"There's a meanness about you sometimes that I don't