"Douglas," said Charleton, "when you are as old as I am you'll realize that Lost Chief is as near heaven as man can hope to get. A poke of salt and a gun on your saddle, a blanket tied behind, a good horse under you, the Persian poet in your pocket, all time and the ranges before you, and what more could mortal man desire?" "A woman, you've always said before," grunted Douglas. "I was holding back out of respect to the sky pilot," laughed Charleton. "But since you mentioned it, there's Inez, who's always ready for a trip." Mr. Fowler shot a quick look at Douglas, who again grunted indifferently and rolled a cigarette. "Are you and Douglas partners, Falkner?" asked the preacher. "Once in a while. Why are you herding sheep, Fowler? This herd yours?" "No. They belong to a Denver man. I'm herding because I couldn't keep a church together." Charleton nodded. "The day of the church is over." There was silence during which Charleton devoured beans, Douglas smoked, and the preacher sat with his eyes on the slow moving herd. Finally Charleton said, "And why do you think something is the matter with Lost Chief, Douglas?" "In other parts of the country," replied Douglas, his blue eyes fixed unwaveringly on Charleton's dark face, "among people of our kind and breed, a girl like Judith couldn't run with a girl like Inez and be considered decent. And a couple like Jimmy and Little Marion couldn't have a party a week after they were married, the baby attending, and be considered O.K. by the so-called best folks and nothing more said." Charleton's face grew darkly red. "Who told you that?" he asked in an ugly voice. "I'm not a fool, as I've told you before. And as you very well know, I've wanted Judith for my wife ever since I was a boy and I haven't wanted her man-handled. And you know, as Jude said once, a girl has about as much chance of staying straight in Lost Chief as a cottontail has with a coyote pack. She's good because, well, because she's Judith, that's all. Now, I tell you when things are as hard as that for a young girl in a beautiful place like our valley, there's something wrong. And look at Little Marion!" "Leave her out or you'll regret it," snarled Charleton. "I'm not afraid of you, Charleton," said Douglas, with indifference not at all assumed. "Little Marion is a peach of a girl. She should have been a big influence. She's--she's had a wrong start." "She's got a fine baby and a good husband." "I never could argue with you, Charleton. But I know Lost Chief is a bad place for girls. Why, I'll bet there isn't a finer bunch of girls than ours in the world, for looks and nerve and smartness. Peter says he's never seen any that could touch them. And take the stories you read. Where's a heroine like Judith?" There was something so simple and so earnest in Doug's manner and voice that the red died out of Charleton's face and he said, "I'm with you on that point, Douglas."