Judith of the Godless Valley Part 53

"What difference does that make?"

"It wouldn't make any difference if I cared for him," admitted Judith, tapping thoughtfully on the tablecloth with slim brown fingers.

"But do you care for him, Judith?" insisted Douglas.

Judith's fine lips twisted contemptuously. "What an idiot you are, Doug!"

"Do you, hang it? Answer me, Jude!"

"No! No! No! Does that satisfy you?"

"Well, partially. Guess I'll have to ask Inez the same question."

Judith smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Douglas went on.

"I'll bet if you could get the truth out of Inez, Judith, you'd find her suffering torments because she can't marry."

"Can't marry? Why can't Inez marry?" demanded Judith belligerently.

"Because no decent man would marry her," returned Douglas flatly.

Judith laughed. "You poor old male, you! Will you kindly tell me what man in this valley you consider more decent than Inez?"

"I'm decent," said Douglas, flus.h.i.+ng, but not the less firmly.

Judith's eyes softened. "You've kept that promise, Doug?"

"Yes," briefly. "And I wouldn't have a woman like Inez if she was as beautiful as Cleopatra and as rich as Hetty Green!"

"Well," airily, "that eliminates you, of course. But let me warn you, Douglas, that if Inez Rodman really loved a man and wanted to marry him, he'd have about as much chance as a coyote used to have when Sister was young enough to run them. Only, if Inez ever does love a man, she won't marry him. She'll keep herself a mystery to him. 'And forever would he love and she be fair.'"

"What's that you're quoting?" asked Douglas.

Judith, her eyes on the window through which shouldered the great flank of Dead Line Peak, repeated the immortal lines. When she had finished, Douglas sighed.

"It's very beautiful!" he said. "But life isn't a procession round a Grecian Urn. It's hard riding from start to finish. And it's a poor sport that won't accept that fact and ride according to the rules.

Marriage is one of the rules. I believe in it."

Judith walked slowly round the table and put a hand on either shoulder.

There was a baffling light in her splendid gray eyes as she said, "Douglas, do you think for a minute that if I told you I loved you madly, I couldn't persuade you not to marry me?"

Her touch was flame. Douglas drew a long, uncertain breath.

"If you said that you loved me madly, you could do almost anything with me, I suppose. The only thing that keeps me steady is believing that you don't love me."

Judith smiled curiously. Douglas lifted her hands from his shoulders.

"Don't torture me, Jude," he said, his voice husky and his fingers uncertain, as he lighted a cigarette.

"I wouldn't torture you, any more than I'd torture myself," replied Judith.

She leaned against the window-frame, looking out at the serenity of the mountain.

"Life," she said suddenly, "is like climbing to the top of Falkner's Peak. Terribly difficult and frightfully wearing, but O, what marvelous views as you reach shoulder after shoulder! Inez is beginning to find life rather a dreary kind of mess. But not I! The Lord knows, my life looks stupid to every one but me, and the Lord knows, I'm restless and unhappy. But I never stop thinking for a minute that it's great, just great to be alive and--and alive."

Douglas smiled a little uncertainly. "Do you ever think twice the same way, Jude?"

"Once in a while! In fact, I'm getting that way more and more. You'll see! I'm going to get me educated, Douglas, and find me a real job. See if I don't!"

Douglas put on his gloves. "I couldn't be any prouder of you, Judith, if you had all the education in the world. Don't forget to come up on Sunday."

"I suppose I'll have to lend my support," said Judith. "But I still think you are a fool."

"You can think me all the fools you want to, if you'll just keep backing me," replied Douglas, striding out to the whinnying Moose.

He found old Johnny and the preacher on terms of easy friends.h.i.+p. Johnny was inclined to be patronizing but Douglas caught the twinkle in Fowler's eyes and made no attempt to control Johnny's manners.

It was not until nearly bed time that Doug missed Prince. The old dog was gradually giving up the solitary coyote hunts he had taken in his younger days and, contrary too, to his earlier habits, he now liked to sleep indoors. He was usually s.h.i.+vering on the doorstep waiting for a chance to scramble under the stove when Doug went out to look at the stock for the night.

But to-night he was not there, nor did his short bark come in response to Doug's whistling. Old Johnny and the preacher came to the door.

"Stop your whistling and listen, Douglas," suggested Fowler.

Douglas obeyed, and faintly on the frosty air sounded the reiterated yelps of a dog.

"That's Prince and he's in trouble!" exclaimed Doug.

"He's up on the shoulder of Lost Chief, I depone," said Johnny.

"I'll go up there." Douglas took his rifle from behind the door and hurried out to the corral. The two men followed him, and by the time Doug had buckled on his spurs, they had saddled his horse.

"Either he's got into a trap or he's tackled something too big for him," said Douglas; "and it's up to me to look out for my pal."

The moon had risen and the snow was very light. Prince continued to yelp and it was not long before Douglas found the dog's tracks and was able to follow them without difficulty. They led up to the tree line on the east flank of Lost Chief Peak. The yelps appeared to come from not far within the border of pines.

Douglas chuckled. "He sure has bitten off more than he can chew this time! I'll have to tell that old dog that--"

A revolver shot interrupted his thoughts. The yelps abruptly ceased.

Douglas spurred his horse and in a moment saw the figure of a man standing beside an outcropping rock. It was Charleton Falkner. Douglas threw himself from his horse, Prince, his paw in a trap, lay motionless on the ground beside the badly mangled body of a wolverine. Charleton's face in the moonlight was coolly vindictive.

"I'll teach a dog to spoil a pelt for me!" he said. "He didn't realize there were two traps here."

"But that was my dog, Prince!" exclaimed Doug.

"I don't care if it was the Almighty's dog! He can't rob my traps if I know it!" snarled Charleton.

Douglas advanced slowly. "You don't seem to get the idea, Charleton.

That was my old dog that grew up with me--the faithfulest little chap in Lost Chief. I'd have paid you for the pelt and you know it. What did you shoot him for?"