Judith of the Godless Valley Part 17

"No, you won't, Dad," said Douglas quietly, as he b.u.t.tered a biscuit.

"If you're going to give me back talk, young fellow, you leave the table now, before I lose my temper."

"I'm not giving you any more back talk than you deserve," replied Douglas. "Any man that would threaten to shoot a pup because it howls deserves something more than back talk. Let's forget it. Johnny, how about this stunt of Mother's breaking horses?"

Old Johnny gave John a timid glance. "I don't remember," he muttered.

Mary laughed. "What's the use of a woman breaking horses when she's got a man to do it for her?"

"Did you ever see her break a horse, Johnny?" insisted Doug.

"Once," said the old man, "a lot of the boys tied me on a mule and the mule ran away. It wasn't broke, that mule. Seem like it had run a gregus long way when Mary come along. She was just a walking and she reached up and grabbed the mule and she rode him back with me. And she made them untie me. And I loved her ever since. I came up here every year to see how John is treating her. I depone--"

John rose and, striding around the table, he seized the old man by the collar. Douglas put his hand on his father's arm.

"Drop it, Dad, or I swear I'll think old Johnny is a better man than you.

I asked him to tell. Throw me out if you want to. Keep your hands off this little chap. One thing is sure. He appreciates Mother more than any of the rest of us have."

"Get the half-wit out of my sight, then," growled John, returning to his seat.

"I wish a lot of folks with whole wits knew how to be as good a friend as Johnny," said Douglas stoutly.

"So do I!" Mary's voice trembled, but her glance at the little old man was very lovely.

The rest of the meal was finished in silence, Douglas turning over in his mind this strange new picture of Judith's mother. Could anything, he wondered, change Judith so? A curious anger against his father's stupidity was at that moment born in Douglas' heart, an anger that never was wholly to leave him.

That evening, as Douglas sat in his favorite place beside the alfalfa stack, old Johnny led up his little gray mare.

"I'll be cowling myself along home now, Doug," he said. "John is awful insidious to me. I just want to say, Doug, that you're the first man in this valley ever stuck up for me and some day I depone I'll get even with you."

"Good for you, Johnny!" nodded Douglas. "When I get my old ranch going, you come up and work for me."

"I will so do," replied the old man solemnly, and he rode away in the moonlight.

And Douglas returned to the new theme old Johnny had given him. Of what were women made that they could be over-broken as his father had over-broken Mary? And why should Lost Chief, so small that control was simple, permit such a thing to be?

CHAPTER V

THE HUNT ON LOST CHIEF

"A guy that don't rustle cattle when the rustling is good, is a fool."

--_Scott Parsons_.

One hot afternoon in August Douglas had just unhitched the panting team from the plow in the new oat field when Charleton Falkner trotted up on Democrat.

"How's the fall plowing, Doug?"

"Just out of the woods, Charleton."

"Your father says he can spare you for a day or two. I wish you'd come down to my place to-night. I'm planning a trip. I don't suppose John would loan you Beauty for a couple of days?"

Douglas shook his head.

"Well," Charleton went on, "I guess Buster can stand up under the work."

"Buster belongs to Judith now. I've been trying to get time to break that dapple gray Young Jeff gave me, after the trial. He's a good horse.

Darned if I don't think I can ride him now!"

"I know that horse and he is a good one," agreed Charleton. "Ride the young moose if you can stick on him. You'll need all his wind and limb on this trip!" and Charleton trotted away.

It was full starlight that night when Douglas freed his feet from the stirrups before Charleton's door and jumped like lightning from the saddle. His horse jumped with him, landing in the kitchen as Douglas brought up against the door-jamb. There was a roar of laughter from within, and as the horse lunged backward out of the door, Charleton appeared.

"So you and the moose are here! Better hobble him, Doug!"

Douglas laughed and tied the rearing horse to a hayrack. Then he followed Charleton into the kitchen. Scott Parsons was sitting by the table, hat on the back of his head, spurred boots on the cold stove hearth. Mrs.

Falkner was just finis.h.i.+ng the supper dishes. She greeted Douglas with a tired smile.

Douglas, with a resentful glance at Scott, s.h.i.+fted his gun belt, shoved his own hat to the back of his head, and sat down. Mrs. Falkner pitched the dish water out the back door and went into the next room.

"Well, fellows," said Charleton cheerfully, as he tipped back his chair and established his spurs beside Scott's, "there's a neat little job on the horizon. You both know the big canyon beyond Lost Chief Peak, that has the little creek that disappears under the range?"

The young men nodded, and Charleton continued.

"A Mormon named Elijah Nelson has settled there. I'm not certain of all he intends to do but I know this much: He's to homestead that canyon up there and hog the water rights on the creek. He's to be followed by nine other Mormon families. Some of 'em are going to raise cattle in the canyon. Some of 'em are going into the sheep business in the plains country beyond the canyon, where we Lost Creek folks have been in the habit of wintering our herd when the snow's too deep here. Some of us older Lost Chief men realize that these folks are the beginning of a march of Mormons up from Utah to run us Lost Chief folks out. And we're going to harry them till they are sick of living. Mormons and sheep must keep out of this country."

Douglas' eyes burned and his breath came quickly. Scott's hard young eyes did not flicker.

"We're going to ride over the range to-morrow night and the next morning gather up what we can of Nelson's herd that's grazing on Lost Chief.

We'll bring 'em to a certain place I know of. I'll divide half to me, the other half to you two. Are you game?"

"I sure am," said Scott. "How many do you think we can gather in?"

"Not so many on one trip. Perhaps fifteen if we have good luck. A big herd leaves a big trail."

"There's an old corral up near the Government elevation monument," said Douglas. "It's all overgrown with bushes and young aspens so's I don't think one person out of twenty, knows it's there. Maybe we could corral 'em there?"

Charleton gave Douglas a quick glance. "How'd you come to know about it?"

"I happened on it last summer tracking a bear."

"That's what I planned to use," nodded Charleton. "We'll make a real cowman out of you yet. So you're ready to go, Doug?"

Douglas' eyes were blazing. "Go! You couldn't pay me enough to keep me away! Nothing ever happens in this old valley."