Judith of the Godless Valley Part 43

"She's got some mighty good points," said John; "but I doubt if you'll ever be able to do anything with her. She's wild. And she'll die of homesickness for the range. Once in a while you see 'em like that."

"She has an intelligent eye." Judith was going over the horse eagerly.

Douglas smiled a little. The range horse, with its slender, hard-muscled beauty, was no finer drawn than Judith circling carefully about the corral, the wind whipping her black hair across her thin, vivid face.

"I don't believe she'll eat with us all watching her," said Mary. "Let's go in to our own supper."

"She'll have to eat pretty soon or give up." Douglas followed Judith into the kitchen. "She hasn't eaten a pound since I caught her."

"Poor little thing!" exclaimed Judith.

At supper Douglas gave the details of the hunt, which were greeted by the family with considerable hilarity.

"One no-account horse to show for a week's hard work!" laughed John.

But Douglas was not perturbed.

"I don't mind," he said. "Wild horses was the least of what I went after and, as it turned out, the least of what I got. I met Mr. Fowler."

"The old preacher?" exclaimed Judith. "Where was he?"

"He starved out at preaching and is herding sheep down in the Green Thimble country. He fed Charleton and me and we had a long talk."

"You had nerve to eat with him after what you did to him!" John was grinning.

"I felt that way myself," agreed Douglas. "But he didn't hold a grudge against me. He's not that kind. And I think he was so lonely he'd have been glad to feed the Old Nick himself."

"Who is he herding for?" asked Mary.

"Some one in Denver. He's going to give it up in the fall."

"What for? Got a church?" John was still grinning.

Douglas nodded slowly. "Yes, he's got a church."

"Did he tell you where?" asked Mary.

"Yes; it's in Lost Chief," replied Douglas.

"Lost Chief!" roared John. "What are you giving us?"

"I'm giving it to you straight. I asked him if he would come if I'd build him a little church up on my part of the ranch and he said he would."

There was a stunned silence while the audience of three considered this reply. Judith eyed Doug intently, then said, "I bite! What is the joke, Douglas?"

"No joke. I asked him to come. I want to hear what he has to say."

"What did Charleton say about it?" asked Mary.

"Charleton doesn't know. I certainly wouldn't give him a chance to spoil the trip." Douglas tossed the thick yellow hair from his forehead and waited for his father's comment. He could not recall ever having carried on a more difficult conversation than this. There were beads of sweat on his upper lip. Old Fowler had warned him of the antagonism he would meet. And here it was. The air was black with it before a hundred words had been spoken.

John scratched his head. "You mean you actually asked that old fool to come here and preach in Lost Chief?"

Douglas nodded over a piece of pie. "Only," he added, "he's not a fool.

Far from it. We may not agree with him, but he's a wise man. A very wise old man."

"And you are going to build a church for him?" John went on.

Again Douglas nodded.

"Are you plumb loco?" John's voice began to rise.

Douglas' color was deepening but he had himself well in hand. "Maybe I am loco. But it can't hurt any one to have Fowler here, can it?"

"I guess he won't stay long enough to do any actual harm!" Judith laughed.

"He's going to stay quite a spell," returned Doug. "I'm going to see that he does."

"But everybody will make fun of him and of you too," volunteered Mary.

"Probably," agreed Douglas. "But even at that I doubt if they have as much fun as I do. My sense of humor is my strong point!"

"Huh!" sniffed Judith. "You'll need more than what you have, Douglas, in this campaign."

"Look here, Doug," urged his father with an obvious effort to be patient, "just what is the joke?"

"Now listen, Dad! It's not a joke. I'm in deadly earnest. I haven't got a particle of religion in me but I'm interested in that line of talk to see if I can discover what other folks get out of it. Peter Knight is not a fool. He knows the world and he says Lost Chief needs a church.

All right, it's going to have one."

"Peter Knight is some advocate, all right!" growled John. "He's always saying he had a religious up-bringing, and look at him! Fourth-cla.s.s postmaster in a cow valley!"

"I don't suppose his religious up-bringing had a thing to do with that,"

said Douglas.

"Then what's the good of a religion?" John's voice was triumphant.

Douglas said nothing and his father went on. "You'll be the laughing-stock of the Valley. You can let on you won't care, but I know you will."

"Yes, I'll care," admitted Douglas. "But that can't be helped. It seems to be a part of the game."

"Well, he can't come to this house!" roared John. "I wouldn't have one of that breed on the place. Mind you keep him off this ranch, Doug."

"I expected you to say that." Douglas' jaw was set. "That's why I plan to build him a cabin up on my section. Grandfather's old cabin isn't worth fixing up."

He did not look at Judith as he spoke. Had he done so he would have been puzzled by the wistfulness in her eyes.

"I sure wonder, Doug," said John irritably, "where you get your crazy notions!"

"He's exactly like his grandfather Douglas!" exclaimed Mary.