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"It seems that Scott has an old red bull that Nelson says is one of his, rebranded." "But I thought," began Judith; then she caught Charleton's sardonic eye and subsided. "What did you think, Judith?" asked Peter. "Nothing. Go on with your story." "There is no story to it.
There was something so simple and so earnest in Doug's manner and voice that the red died out of Charleton's face and he said, "I'm with you on that point, Douglas." "Peter told me once," Douglas went on, "that the Greek race was the finest in the world in their minds and their looks and in every way, until the Greek women got promiscuous. That as soon as that happened the race began to decay.
"You can't shoot a man's dog, at least this man's dog and go unpunished. You and Dad have bullied this valley long enough, Charleton. Put up your hands and take your punishment." He struck the six-shooter from Charleton's hand and the battle was joined. Douglas' only advantage over his adversary was in point of youth, for Charleton was as lean and powerful as a gorilla.
He had just parted his lips to speak when the door opened and Charleton and Jimmy came in. "Look at here, Charleton!" roared Young Jeff. "Look at the address on this bag!" The two newcomers scrutinized the tag. "Well," said Jimmy, "I'll be everlastingly dehorned, vaccinated and branded!" Charleton's mouth twisted. "So the old fool got you, Doug! You've got hard nerve, that's all I have to say!"
Charleton's face in the moonlight was coolly vindictive. "I'll teach a dog to spoil a pelt for me!" he said. "He didn't realize there were two traps here." "But that was my dog, Prince!" exclaimed Doug. "I don't care if it was the Almighty's dog! He can't rob my traps if I know it!" snarled Charleton. Douglas advanced slowly. "You don't seem to get the idea, Charleton.
The snows were too deep to allow Charleton to undertake any of those mysterious missions for which he was so much admired, and Elijah Nelson was allowed to flourish unmolested. It was reported that the Mormon had accused Lost Chief of running some of his cattle, but he evidently had no desire to start a controversy with the valley. And Douglas came more and more under Charleton's influence.
If the men were their equals, there wouldn't be a spot in the world could touch Lost Chief. What do you think of Charleton's mind, Doug?" "I think he's a wonder. He's lived, that guy." "Any guy of forty has lived. It's the way they look at life that makes men different. Charleton hasn't any faith in anything good. That's why he's unlucky. Don't let him influence you too much, Doug.
"I don't see what in the world I can do with myself," he said heavily, and he rode back to Charleton's ranch. Charleton had a good many, mostly representing his young delvings into the realms of agnosticism. His later purchases simmered down to a few volumes of poetry. There were several of Shakespeare's plays around the cabin and these Douglas read again and again.
He drooped dejectedly in the saddle, guiding the stiff and weary Moose without interest. His wonderful expedition by which he was to establish his standing as a man with his father and Judith had ended in ignominy. He watched Charleton's painfully rigid back but he did not dare to speak to him until they were nearly home.
Both situations were of a nature to appeal to Lost Chief's sense of humor. Douglas appeared during the session and learned that Charleton's wife had come home. "I hope she won't go crazy too," he said. "No danger!" Peter tossed a letter to Frank Day. "Charleton'll be in line by to-morrow. Too bad some one can't hobble John too." "Plumb unnecessary, the whole affair," grunted the sheriff.
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