Douglas nodded and they rode down into the Valley. When they trotted past the post-office, the usual group was gathered on the steps. Doug and the preacher nodded but did not draw rein. Old Sister came out sedately and growled at Prince, but Peter did not leave the doorstep. "What's your hurry, old-timers?" shouted Jimmy Day. "A long way to go," called Douglas. "Your hazer needs a shave!" said some one else. "We'll do it for him Sunday!" cried another voice. "Oil up your cannon, Doug," laughed Charleton, "and unchain the dogs of war." Douglas trotted sedately on. "I wonder why it is! I wonder why!" said Fowler, very real pain in his voice. "They think we're criticizing them," answered Douglas; adding, with his pleasant grin, "which we are!" It was dark when they reached Douglas' ranch. Before they had unsaddled, Fowler insisted on lighting a lantern and inspecting the chapel. Douglas, not at all adverse, for he was very proud of this work of his hands, followed the old man in his microscopic inspection of the little building. It was small and dim, with a smell of new cedar. To Douglas, already there was something hallowed about the quiet interior as if somehow the yearning with which he had builded it had given the insensate wood a curious high purposefulness. Fowler examined the benches and sat for a moment on several of them. He flashed the lantern along the carefully chinked walls, the rose tints of the cedar glowing warmly back at him. He walked slowly up and down the center aisle and paused before the platform, on which was a table and chair. For a long time he stood with one hand on the table. Then he said: "It's beautiful, Douglas! Beautiful! A chapel for me! Built by a young man that has faith in me. Wonderful! And built with such free-hearted care! For me to preach in! Why, a minister of a great metropolis might well envy me such a gift!" He paused again, turning the lantern so that the tapestried colors of the walls again flashed forth. "Stained glass!" half whispered the old man. "Already it has the air of a church. Douglas, we'll consecrate it now." He knelt before the platform and Douglas bowed his head. "O God, my Father and my Shepherd," said Fowler, "You have led my wandering steps to this fragrant evidence of a young man's heart. How beautiful it is, O God, and how holy, You know. Help me to keep it so, Heavenly Father, and help me to make Lost Chief find it so. And, O God, put Your great arm about this young man and keep it there until he realizes that it is Your arm supporting him. I thank You, O Everlasting Mercy, for leading me to this resting-place for my soul. Amen." And it seemed to Douglas, bowing his head in the dusk, that the chapel itself was listening in a brooding peace. After a moment, the old man rose and led the way out the door, which Douglas locked, then turned the key over to the preacher. "It's yours, now," he said with a little, embarrassed, laugh. "I'm only the guard."