The Cure Complete

In Nelson Flat the lupines were like spilled bluing in great, acre-wide
blots upon the meadow grass. Between cabin and creek bank a little plot
had been spaded and raked smooth, and already the peas and lettuce and
radishes were up and growing as if they knew how short would be the
season, and meant to take advantage of every minute of the warm days.
Here and there certain plants were lifting themselves all awry from
where they had been pressed flat by two small feet that had strutted
heedlessly down the rows.

The cabin yard was clean, and the two small windows were curtained with
cheap, white scrim. All before the door and on the path to the creek
small footprints were scattered thick. It was these that Marie pulled up
her hired saddle horse to study in hot resentment.

"The big brute!" she gritted, and got off and went to the cabin door,
walking straight-backed and every mental and physical fiber of her
braced for the coming struggle. She even regretted not having a gun;
rather, she wished that she was not more afraid of a gun than of any
possible need of one. She felt, at that minute, as though she could
shoot Bud Moore with no more compunction that she would feel in swatting
a fly.

That the cabin was empty and unlocked only made her blood boil the
hotter. She went in and looked around at the crude furnishings and the
small personal belongings of those who lived there. She saw the table
all set ready for the next meal, with the extremely rustic high-chair
that had DYNAMITE painted boldly on the side of the box seat. Fastened
to a nail at one side of the box was a belt, evidently kept there for
the purpose of strapping a particularly wriggly young person into
the chair. That smacked strongly of Lovin Child, sure enough. Marie
remembered the various devices by which she had kept him in his go cart.