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Updated: May 21, 2025
Dic knew that he could not withstand the rush, and thought his hour had come; but the sharp crack of a rifle broke the forest silence, and the knife fell from Doug's nerveless hand, his knees shook under him, his form quivered spasmodically for a moment, and he plunged forward on his face.
When he had finished his preparations, he sat down beside Judith, pulled a part of the blankets over his shoulders and drew her close against him. The Wolf Cub lay as close as he could crowd against Judith's other side, his nose almost in the embers. Judith looked into Doug's face attentively. His eyes were heavy and deep sunk in his head. "You are very, very tired, Douglas.
If self-defence could be established and owing to the fact that neither Dic nor Rita was to testify, that would be difficult to accomplish Dic would go free. These enormous "ifs" complicated the case, and Dic was detained in jail till Doug's fate should be known. I shall not try to tell you of Rita's suffering.
Then she looked calmly about her. "First ones here!" she said complacently. "Even the preacher hasn't come." "I suppose," Doug's voice was bitter "that if I rode over toward Day's to meet Jimmy you'd have to tag!" "I sure-gawd would. Swift would like the extra exercise." Douglas swept Judith's thin bay mare with a withering glance. "That thing! Looks like the coyotes had been at it!"
The great puppy looked up into her face with ears cocked, then turned slowly and crept into the corner indicated and with a groan lay down. Peter jerked his head in admiration. "You are some person, Jude! Keep boiling water going. I'm going to wash that wound of Doug's every hour. This cattle country is the devil for infection."
"It's growing daylight and there's the Pass, at last!" suddenly cried Judith. Douglas drew a deep breath and urged on the weary horses. It was full nine o'clock when the team drew up at the post-office door. At Doug's halloo, Peter Knight appeared. Sister crowded out the door past him, pricked her ears forward and ran to sniff at the rear of the buckboard.
His flannel shirt, unbuttoned at the throat, showed a strong neck, and the rider's belt that circled the top of his blue denim pants outlined a waist as slim and hard as Doug's. He looked up. "What do you mean by coming in at this hour, you young hound?" "I think I might have Sunday afternoon to myself," said Douglas sulkily. "So do I. But that don't mean you are to have all Sunday night, too.
"I don't see why!" exclaimed Douglas suddenly. "You're all rejus like in the church now. You ain't got the time for womaning. Are you still fond of Jude?" peering at Douglas anxiously. "I guess you know how I feel about Judith, Johnny," said Doug in a low voice. "Like I used to feel about her mother?" The old man put a hand on Doug's arm. Douglas nodded.
"I know," she nodded. "I'll come right along." It was not until they had nearly reached Doug's corral that he found courage to tell her about the death of Prince. She said nothing, for a moment, but she brought the mare up close to the Moose and laid her hand on Douglas' knee. "Dear old boy!" she said. "I know!" Then she sobbed for a moment against his shoulder.
Nelson smiled understandingly, and a few moments later Douglas was standing with his back to the living-room stove, both of his arms about Judith. "I had to thank you," he said, "and you were too stupid to make the chance. Judith! Judith! You've made the world into heaven for me!" "I'm not exactly unhappy, myself!" Judith's eyes glowed as she returned Doug's look.
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