Judith of the Godless Valley Part 25

Abe was saddled and the Moose was breathing normally before Grandma appeared, plump and calm. Nor would she allow Abe to be hurried out of his usual gentle trot.

"Douglas, when you've seen as many new eyes open and old eyes close as I have, you'll quit hurrying," she said. "The Almighty generally looks out for mothers, anyhow."

So, sedately, in the glory of the sun bursting over the top of the Indian range, they trotted up to Falkner's cabin.

Charleton burst out of the door. "Where in the blank-blank have you been?

Hurry, Grandma! I've been nearly crazy!"

"I'll bet your wife ain't crazy." Grandma dismounted with Doug's help.

"Now, Douglas, you keep this lunatic outside, no matter what he says or does. It's just the way he acted when Little Marion came." She stamped into the house and closed the door.

"Let's go do the ch.o.r.es!" suggested Douglas.

"Ch.o.r.es! Ch.o.r.es! Don't you know that--"

"Yes, I know all about it," interrupted Doug. "Come on and get the milking done. Are you afraid your wife will die, Charleton, or what?"

"Or what!" gasped Charleton. "You poor, half-baked idiot!"

For an hour, Douglas sweated with Charleton. Then, as they rested for a time on the corral gate, the kitchen door opened and Grandma's head appeared.

"You go, Doug," said Charleton feebly.

But Grandma did not wait. "It's a boy, Charleton!" she shrieked. "A fine, big boy!" And she closed the door.

Charleton sat perfectly still on the fence. His lips moved but for several seconds no sound came forth. Then he said, "Charleton Falkner, Jr.! Charleton Falkner, Jr.! All my life I've been waiting for this moment!" Tears were on his cheeks. "Doug, you go up and ask 'em how my wife is and give her my love."

Douglas stared at his mentor, wonderingly, unwound his long legs from the fence and crossed the yard. Grandma answered his timid rap.

"Charleton says how's his wife and sends his love."

"O, he does!" witheringly. "Why don't he go over to the post-office and telephone us? You tell him she did fine like she always does everything.

You folks go up and get Peter to give you some breakfast."

"I'm not going near Peter till I see the boy and my wife!" called Charleton.

Grandma slammed the door.

"I wouldn't go near the post-office," said Douglas, established again on the fence beside Charleton.

"Why not?"

"If--if I felt like you do, I'd want to stay by myself, just take a ride alone up to the top of Fire Mesa."

"I don't care what I do as long as the boy's here. Charleton Falkner, Jr.! I'll tell you, Doug, you'll never know what happiness life can hold for you till a woman like Marion gives you a son."

"Say!" cried Douglas in an outraged voice. "What's all this talk you've been giving me for a year about whiskey and women and horses?"

Charleton did not hear him. "Charleton Falkner, Jr.!" he was murmuring over an unlighted cigarette.

It seemed a very long time before they were admitted to the baby and breakfast. Douglas was entirely unimpressed by the squirming red morsel of humanity that Little Marion proudly brought into the kitchen for their inspection. But Charleton was maudlin with admiration. It was, it seemed, easily the first child ever born in Lost Chief, not excepting Little Marion who had been a wonderful baby herself.

Douglas listened, eating his breakfast grimly the while, filled with an embarra.s.sed consternation at last beholding his mentor with, as Peter had said, his outer skin off.

This, then, was what Charleton really wanted; not whiskey, or promiscuous women, or wild horses, or Omar Khayham. What he wanted was a son, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, to carry on his name. And yet what had Charleton ever done to that name except to besmirch it? For Douglas now in his heart had no illusions about the proper nomenclature for his mentor's mysterious little deals.

"Charleton," he demanded suddenly, "do you want the kid to grow up to be just like you?"

Charleton looked at Douglas in astonishment. "Like me? Listen, Doug, old-timer, I'm going to spend the rest of my life licking out of him anything I see in him like me!"

Douglas gave up in despair and went out to finish the ch.o.r.es.

It was a disjointed day, of course. In the afternoon Charleton went to a choice gathering of spirits at the post-office; and Douglas, feeling particularly lonely and unsettled, rode up the south trail after three of Charleton's young mules which had strayed. He felt somehow that, with the dereliction of Charleton, the last hold he had on reality had gone.

CHAPTER VII

THE POST-OFFICE CONFERENCE

"Ride with your finger on the trigger--but smile before you shoot."

--_Sheriff Frank Day_.

Douglas had no luck at all on his mule hunt. And as if to add to his discomfort, while climbing down the trail from the cemetery, he saw Judith on Buster, accompanied by the leaping Wolf Cub, overtake Scott Parsons and saw them race toward the post-office. Twilight came on, with the mud of the trail stiffening in the frosty air. An overpowering sense of loneliness urged Douglas across the valley and brought him to pause beside the Rodman corral. He dismounted at the buck fence and stood for a moment in the shadow of the Moose, wondering why he had stopped here. He had stood thus but a few moments when two riders came up the trail. They trotted into the door-yard.

"I don't think I want to dance, after all, Scott," said Judith's voice.

"What harm is there in it?" demanded Scott.

"I make it a point never to go in here except when Inez is alone."

"I suppose you're afraid to meet Doug!" exclaimed Scott. "He's here half the time."

Douglas leaped over the fence, rushed to Scott's side and struck him twice.

"That's a lie! Get down and fight with your fists, you thief and murderer!" Doug's voice was low with pa.s.sion.

There was a quick movement of Scott's right hand to his hip and Douglas felt a stinging pain in his left shoulder. Simultaneously with the shot, Scott put the spurs to Ginger, and Doug reeled as the mare's shoulder thrust against him. Judith jumped from Buster.

"Doug, did he get you?"

Douglas had not fallen. He pushed the girl aside and ran to the plunging Moose. Inez Rodman called from the door.

"Who's shooting?"