Judith of the Godless Valley Part 54

Charleton's jaws worked. "I'll show you and Scott and the whole valley that my traps and my hunts are not to be interfered with!"

"Still you don't get the idea," Douglas was now not an arm's-length from Charleton. "You can't shoot a man's dog, at least this man's dog and go unpunished. You and Dad have bullied this valley long enough, Charleton.

Put up your hands and take your punishment."

He struck the six-shooter from Charleton's hand and the battle was joined. Douglas' only advantage over his adversary was in point of youth, for Charleton was as lean and powerful as a gorilla. But youth was a powerful ally and eventually it was Charleton who lay in the snow, blinking at the moon. Douglas, panting and still so angry that it was difficult for him not to kick Charleton where he lay, released Prince's paw and threw the familiar gray body across the saddle. Then he mounted, laying Prince across his knees.

Charleton sat up slowly.

"That licking wasn't all for poor old Prince," said Douglas. "Part of it was for the kid whose mind you deliberately tried to poison, and part of it is for Inez. You were the first man, you boasted to me, who ever went to Rodman's. And part of it's for the loneliness you've made in Lost Chief. What have you got to say--huh?"

Charleton rose. "Nice young buck you are to attack a man old enough to be your father! This is what I get for my kindness to you. This is a bad night's work for you, you young whelp!"

Douglas, one hand on his old dog's stiffening shoulder, bit back his resurging wrath and tapped his horse with the spurs. Fowler and Old Johnny came out to meet him. He gave Prince to Johnny and then dismounted.

"Charleton shot my dog!" he said.

"What shall I do with him?" asked Johnny.

"Shut him up in the feed shed and I'll bury him in the morning." Douglas stalked into the house, where the two others shortly followed him.

They looked at his face and for a moment even old Johnny hesitated to speak. In spite of his cold ride, Doug's face was deadly white, his lips worked, and his eyes were dark with feeling. He took off his spurs slowly, and hung them carefully on their nail. Then he sat down on his bunk and stared at the preacher.

"What happened, Douglas?" asked Fowler.

"Prince evidently tackled a wolverine in one of Charleton's traps and I'm not so sure either but it might have been Scott's. Anyhow he surprised some kind of a deal Charleton was trying to put over. Then he got his paw in a free trap and started yelping. Charleton got to him before I did and shot him."

"What was he doing riding his traps at this hour?" asked the preacher.

"I don't know. I loved that dog and so did Jude. It will make her sick when she hears. He was good for two or three years more and he should have died like a good rancher, right at home, here."

"What did you say to Charleton?"

"I said what I thought beside knocking him down."

Fowler said nothing more but he put his hand on Doug's knee. Doug cleared his throat and rose ostensibly to put a stick of wood in the stove.

Old Johnny picked up the rifle and started for the door.

"Where are you going, Johnny?" asked Douglas, huskily.

"I'm going to watch. Charleton he ain't never going to stop now till he fixes you. He's got to get me first. Maybe I ain't as smart as Prince was but I depone I'll do my best."

Douglas laughed a little brokenly. He put his arm around old Johnny's shoulder and with his free hand took the gun.

"Don't you worry about me, Johnny. Your job is the church and the preacher and you remember you promised not to shoot until you told me about it."

"That's right," exclaimed the preacher. "And now I suggest that you let me read a chapter from the Bible and that we then get to bed."

Johnny looked at Douglas in embarra.s.sment, but Douglas nodded and his old guard sat down beside him on the bunk with a contented sigh.

"'I am the true vine and my father is the husband-man.--As the Father hath loved me so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.--This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.--Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.'" Fowler closed the book and bowed his head over it. "O G.o.d,"

he prayed, "give us patience and kindness and understanding. Amen."

He rose then and Douglas, vaguely comforted by the sympathy of the two old men, went to bed and to sleep. It had been a day of such stress as even his young years of mental conflicts had seldom endured.

The next day, when Douglas went down to the Spencer ranch to borrow the paraphernalia for dehorning, his father beckoned him mysteriously into the cowshed. John had been surly for six months and Douglas was surprised to hear the note of gratification in his voice.

"What have you been doing to Charleton, Doug?"

"What does he say I've been doing?" asked Douglas, picking the snow out of his spurs.

"He says you knocked him down. He came in here last night breathing fire."

"Did he say why I knocked him down?"

"Yes. Because he wouldn't let your dog rob his traps."

"Prince got after a wolverine in his or Scott's traps and Charleton shot the old pup. He'd better be thankful I didn't boot him all the way home."

Douglas' face was growing white again. John looked at his tall son with a mixture of admiration and bewilderment in his eyes.

"By the Great Sitting Bull, Doug, I can't understand you! Here you go for six months making a blank sissy of yourself over a sky pilot and then you give the most dangerous man in the Valley the gol-dingest mauling and beating he ever had in his life! Why, even I won't go up against Charleton. He's a bad man!"

"He's a bag of wind!" said Douglas contemptuously. "I found that out years ago when his boy was born. Does Jude know?"

"No; she was asleep and he stayed in the kitchen with me and washed up.

But don't think you've finished with him. He's a mean man, Douglas."

"Yes, he's mean enough. On the other hand, Charleton knows I've got his number and he'll let me alone. I'm not worrying about him. That guy can't even keep his temper. Loan me the tar-pot, will you, and the searing-iron."

John suddenly laughed. Douglas grinned faintly, then said, "I know now how Jude felt when you shot that little old Swift horse."

"I suppose if you'd been big enough, you'd have treated me as you did Charleton," said John cheerfully.

"I sure would have tried to," replied Douglas. "Where's Jude?"

"Working on the little wild mare in the corral."

Douglas nodded to his father and went in search of Judith. She nodded gaily from the saddle.

"Why so sober, old-timer?"

"Overwork!" exclaimed Douglas. "Jude, will you come up and help me with the handful of steers I want to dehorn?"

"What's the matter with Old Gentlemen's Home?" asked Judith with her impish smile.

"They are taken up with reforming each other," replied Douglas; adding more seriously, "they are too old to be much help with the rope, Jude."

"I know," she nodded. "I'll come right along."