"I'm much obliged to you, Douglas," said Judith soberly. "You are always mighty generous--" She hesitated for a moment. "I wish you weren't going in for this thing with the preacher, Doug." "O well, let's drop the matter!" said Douglas wearily, and without a word further Judith turned away. The next morning at breakfast, John was irritable and would not let the subject of Fowler's coming rest. "What did Charleton say?" he asked. "Charleton doesn't know," replied Douglas, patiently. "He wasn't there when I talked it over with the preacher." "I'll bet he wasn't or you never would have gotten away with it," growled John. "Sure! I'm a nervous man about Charleton," grinned Douglas. "Come now, Dad! Why should you be sore at the idea?" "Lots of reasons! I hate a man who thinks he's enough superior to me to tell me how to behave. And I feel sore as a pup that my son should be bringing such a man into the Valley. All the folks will say you are criticizing them. I'm not going to let you do it, Douglas!" Douglas gave a short laugh, which was echoed by Judith. John grew red. "My father would have thrashed me when I was a grown man if I'd laughed at him like that!" "O well, look at the man he was!" chuckled Judith. "Don't you speak that way to me!" roared John. "The children of this generation certainly are a bad lot! But one thing you two will remember. I'm master of this house and as long as you stay here you'll obey me! And you just let me hear you telling anybody, Doug, of your crazy plan and you'll learn for the first time what I am!" "Then you won't help me put up my buildings?" asked Douglas. "Not for the use of any fool preacher!" shouted his father. Douglas lighted a cigarette and went out. For the first time a sense of disappointment marred the beauty of the plan he had perfected with the preacher. He realized now that he had counted on Judith's being interested even were she antagonistic. But she was indifferent. He would have preferred that she be resentful like his father. There was nothing tangible there to struggle against. One could neither fight nor urge indifference. Then he set his jaws. Judith should see! He knew whither he was going now. He had found the fine straight line of which Peter had spoken, long ago, and he would hew to it, at whatever cost. And Judith could not, must not fail him. If only he knew the things she really thought! His jaw was still set as he watched the little wild mare, now ceaselessly circling the corral fence, her face to the hills. Judith crossed to the bars and Douglas turned away.