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Judith's great eyes widened incredulously. "He was!" She turned this over in her mind for some time, then shook her head. "I give it up. I can't understand men at all. I thought I had Charleton's number. I always did agree with him about marriage." Douglas drew a quick breath. If men were difficult to understand, how much more so were women, particularly of Judith's type!
They left Charleton's ranch early one morning, driving a sheep wagon which trailed four saddle horses. On the tail-board of the wagon were a bale of alfalfa and several bags of oats, for which Charleton had scraped Lost Chief to the bottom of its bins. The snow was running off the trail in roaring streams. There was brilliant sun. Magpies dipped across the blue.
Judith returned his look with a curiously impersonal glance. "I'm not sure," she answered slowly. "Not what Inez calls love, that's sure." "Isn't there any other woman in Lost Chief that could give you ideas except Inez?" asked Douglas impatiently. "What woman would you suggest?" Judith waggled one foot airily and tossed her head. "Charleton's wife. She has brain and she's interesting."
"If I could believe in God and a heaven I'd ask nothing more of life except a good-saddle-horse." Charleton's Wife. And so another long winter was upon Lost Chief. It was much like other winters for Douglas except for the fact that he began systematically to trap for pelts.
When I got there, the herd was gone and I'd just picked up the trail when the bull came along." Charleton looked from one young man to the other. Doug with his long face entirely expressionless, sitting easily sidewise in his saddle; Scott, face flushed, eyes angry, standing tense in the stirrups. There came an ugly twist to Charleton's lips, but after a moment he spoke coolly.
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