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"What do you know about this!" he gasped. Douglas, standing with his back to the cold stove, said nothing. Young Jeff dropped the handful of letters he was distributing, and examined the tag for himself. "Old Fowler, eh? Thought he was dead long ago. What's he coming to see you for, Doug? Going to preach " He paused and his eyes grew round. "Doug's motion-picture theater! The sky pilot!
The bull was stamping in a circle in the vain attempt to trample his victim. "Don't shoot!" gasped Charleton. "Rope his hind legs and throw him! By God, I'll keep him now!" Twice Doug's lariat darted through the air before the loop caught. But the third attempt was successful and he raced the half-maddened Moose away and jerked the bull off his feet.
"Just enough to feed and clothe me. We'll arrange that after we get a church established." Douglas rose with a broad grin. "I sure-gawd have let myself in for something now," he said. "But I'll take care of you, Mr. Fowler." "All right, young Moses," returned the preacher, smiling into Doug's eager face. "Good-night."
"We aren't equipped for it, Jude." She drew a deep breath. "I don't want to go back where I have to breathe the same air he does." "Judith, what did he do?" Doug's lips were stiff and his eyes contracted as if with pain. "I didn't give him a chance to do anything. I don't want even to talk about it." Douglas sat silent for a moment; then he said huskily, "I'm ashamed of him."
His father did not come after him, and when the two met on the Black Gorge trail a day or so after Doug's departure, John returned Douglas' muttered greeting with a silent, ugly stare. There was comment and conjecture in Lost Chief, but the fall round-up was coming and this soon engrossed the attention of the community. Of Scott, Douglas saw nothing.
The others nodded. "Did he ever," Peter went on, "make an important decision that he didn't try to look to the good and the future of Lost Chief? At least, I gathered that from the things Doug's mother used to tell me about the old man's pipe dreams." John spoke soberly. "He was a just man. They don't make 'em that way any more." "He was more than just," insisted Peter. "He was forward looking.
But lots of young women are like that now-a-days." Douglas looked at her curiously. Some phrase of Peter's, half forgotten, came back to him. "Revolt," he muttered. "Revolt, that's it." The woman nodded. "Yes, revolt's the word." Elijah shook Doug's shoulder. "How many horses have you?" "Two." "I'll feed 'em. Go sit down to that table and let my wife fix you up."
His shirt had been torn away, and Patsy was washing the bullet wound in the breast and back, for the bullet had passed entirely through Doug's body. "Well, he's not dead yet," cried Kennedy. "So far, so good. Now we'll see if I can keep from killing him." While the doctor was at work Dic took Billy to one side. "I told Mrs. Bays and Rita not to speak about this affair," he said.
Judith dismounted and pulled the reins over Buster's head. Then she ran up to put her hand on Doug's knee. "Doug! Doug! Where did he get you?" "Don't hold me back, Jude!" said Douglas thickly. "Tie me onto the Moose and leave me after him. I'm going to finish him, now." "You can't catch him. You're hurt too bad. Let me take you home, Doug." There was no reply for a moment.
She had not seen Doug's part in the transaction, and being much disturbed in mind and dress, turned upon poor Wetmore and flung at the worthy shepherd the opprobrious words, "You fool." When we consider the buttons in the offering, together with Sukey's unjust and biting words, we cannot help believing that Wetmore had been born under an unlucky star.
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