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Updated: May 15, 2025
You are just quoting Charleton Falkner. I've heard plenty of his empty ideas in the last twenty years. You've worked for him long enough, anyhow. Better go back to your home; or if you're through with Jude, take my offer and go East to school." "Forget it, Peter! As soon as Fire Mesa opens up, I'm going after wild horses with Charleton. And you can roast him all you want to, but he knows life."
"That's where you are wrong," said Charleton. "They are going to get Lost Chief Valley by any straight or crooked method they can think up. With an ornery devil like Scott to climb over, they won't try to come in that entrance, that's sure." "How about it, Scott?" asked the sheriff.
Doug shrugged his broad shoulders, and shortly, head in his saddle, feet to the fire, he was fast asleep. The trees were black against gray light when Charleton called the two young riders. "Let's eat and be off," he said briefly. Breakfast was a short affair of bread, bacon and coffee. While they were bolting it, Charleton outlined the campaign.
I'm here to tell you folks, He put out the finest, most workable system of ethics the world has ever known. And folks can't live together without a system of ethics." "It's a wonder you don't subscribe to 'em, Peter," jibed Charleton. "It's too late. But that don't say that I don't realize clearly that I've failed in life because of it. What do you say to that, Charleton?"
"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!"
"You are a fine guy to tell a fellow how to live on wine, women and horses," exclaimed Douglas, "and then raise the devil when your chickens come home to roost. We all know Little Marion was born a month before you were married." Charleton gave Douglas an ugly look. "I'll settle with you, for that, young fellow!" He stepped toward the bed. "Are you going to get out, Marion?"
Dust-covered and sunburned he strode into the room with a pleasant grin. "Hello, folks! Why, Marion, are you sick?" "Kind of. What luck, Dad?" "Fair. Brought in a good stallion and some weedy stuff. How's the ranch, Jimmy?" He asked this with his eyes still on his daughter. "O.K., Charleton," replied Jimmy. "You made a long trip, Charleton," said Douglas.
"She's a disobedient little hussy," John's voice was truculent, "and it was the only way I could get at her." "You mean the fight she put up to help Little Marion?" demanded Peter. "O, dry up, Peter!" exclaimed Charleton. "Me, I'm sick of the sound of a woman's name. They're all alike, ungrateful minxes." "Ungrateful is the word," agreed Peter grimly.
When he banged on the door, Grandma, clutching her nightdress at the throat, put her head out. "The baby, I suppose!" she snapped. "Is Little Marion there?" "Yes!" "Well, let me dress." "Hurry, please, Grandma! Charleton seemed awful scared." "Charleton! Huh! I'm going to get my proper clothes on and drink my coffee, no matter how Charleton Falkner worries. He always was a baby.
"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.
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