Judith of the Godless Valley Part 38

Judith tossed her head and then dropped her chin to the palm of her hand.

"I swear some one ought to give John Spencer a good thras.h.i.+ng!" exclaimed Inez.

"Don't worry!" Judith spoke through set teeth. "I'll be even with him some day."

"I just as soon try to lick him," said Doug. "But what good would it do?"

The three sat in silence for a moment; then Douglas asked suddenly, "Inez, do you believe that poetry about the Fire Mist that you taught Judith?"

"No; but I think it's a beautiful poem, just the same."

"Say it all for me, will you, Inez?"

Inez, in her soft contralto, repeated the lines.

"And you don't believe it?" Douglas' voice was wistful. "Don't you wish you did?"

"I don't know as I do," replied Inez.

"But don't you see," urged Douglas, "that without believing it, there's no meaning to anything?"

"Well, what of it?" asked Inez.

"I'm the kind of a guy that has to see a purpose to things, I guess,"

replied Douglas, heavily. "Peter is dead right. Lost Chief is a rotten hole."

"It's a rotten place for women and a paradise for men," stated Judith flatly.

"Never was any place in the world more beautiful," mused Inez. "If you'd just see the beauty all around you, Doug, you'd do without the religion."

"I do see the beauty," replied Douglas. "I've been seeing it ever since you told me to look for it. But it just makes me blue."

"You're no cowman, Douglas," Inez spoke thoughtfully. "You ought to go East to college and get into politics or something!"

Douglas shook his head. "I'm like Charleton. I couldn't leave these hills and plains for anything the East has to offer me." He rose slowly, and Inez stared up at him. Tall, slender, straight, his young face a little strained, a little wistful, he was to the older woman something finer than Lost Chief knew.

"Judith," she said suddenly, "you're an awful fool!"

Judith grunted, immersed in her own troubles.

"Come, old lady," said Douglas. "We must get home."

"I'm going to stay all night with Inez."

"No, you're not, Jude," said Douglas quietly, and he stood waiting.

"Let her stay, Doug. She'll be all right," urged Inez.

"No," replied the young rider, with the familiar straightening of his chin. "Come, Judith!"

The tall girl rose, shrugged her shoulders, and followed slowly to the corral after Douglas. Inez did not move and shortly they trotted away, leaving her alone in the firelight.

The next day, sullenly enough, John ordered Doug to make the horses ready for the round-up. Frost had set in and he suddenly announced himself as fearful lest snows catch the herds high on the mountains. So Douglas and Judith spent the day bringing in several stout horses from the range.

On the morning following, before breakfast was finished, Scott Parsons hallooed from the corral. The family went to the door.

Scott was leading Sioux and Whoop-la.

"Found these in the old Government corral up on Lost Chief Mountain," he said laconically.

"I suppose you're going to get something worth while from Dad for this!"

cried Judith pa.s.sionately.

Scott looked at the girl curiously. "You sure are crazy, Jude! Do you suppose I'd help John Spencer do you like that? John's a blank-blank and he knows it."

Douglas moved to stand by Ginger's head.

"No man says that to me without a grin." John drew his gun.

"Jude!" said Doug sharply. He reached up and seized Scott's hand and with a sudden twist relieved him of his six-shooter.

Judith struck up her father's arm and a shot scattered dust from the sod roof of the cabin. John smacked Judith on the cheek. She threw herself on him like a fighting she-bear. John dropped his gun to seize her wrists and Mary promptly picked the weapon up and gave it to Douglas.

"Now," said Doug, when Judith stood panting like a young Diana, her eyes black with anger and excitement, "if you two men want to fight, take your fists and go to it!"

John suddenly grinned, his eyes on Judith. "I don't see anybody spoiling for a fist fight but Judith. You little lynx-cat! You get handsomer every day!"

"I'd hate to let a woman make putty of me like that," sneered Scott. "Let me have my shooting-iron, Doug."

Douglas had broken the revolver and unloaded it. He gave it back, receiving the lead ropes of the two animals in return, and Scott trotted away.

"I'm much obliged to you, Scott!" shrieked Judith. "I'll ride up and tell you all about it, some day."

Scott waved his hand but did not look back. John, still holding Judith's wrists, suddenly drew her to him and kissed her full on the lips. Then, with a laugh, he freed her and returned to his breakfast. Douglas swore under his breath and turned the uneasy Sioux and Whoop-la into the corral. The day went forward as if nothing had happened.

That night, Charleton and John appeared at the post-office gathering for the first time since the birth of Little Marion's baby. Only Peter had the intrepidity to comment on recent events.

"I didn't want Judith to go alone with you to Mountain City, John," he said. "But, all the same, that was a rotten deal you gave her."

"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. "But I'd like to know just what Marion was under obligation to you for?"

Charleton did not reply.

"When are they going to be married?" asked Peter, after a moment.