"O, no, Mr. Fowler!" cried Doug. "'Behold thou art fair, my loved one, behold thou art fair. Thou hast doves eyes within thy locks.' No man ever said that about anything but a woman." No one spoke for a moment. Old Prince, who was lying with his head baking under the stove, growled and barked, then made for the door. Wolf Cub barked without, and a dog answered. "Sister!" exclaimed Inez. "Peter must be coming." Douglas opened the door and Prince shot out. Shortly Peter, then Charleton, came in, stamping the snow from their spurs and pulling off their gauntlets. "Where did you two come from?" asked Judith, as the newcomers established themselves on up-ended boxes close to the stove. "Just met here," replied Peter. "I had supper at Spencer's and came up to argue with the sky pilot." "I'm setting traps up on Lost Chief," said Charleton, lighting a cigarette. "Look out you don't mistake any of Scott's traps for yours," suggested Inez. Everybody chuckled, and Peter said, "Elijah Nelson was down at my place yesterday. He's a pleasant, easy spoken man. I guess he and Scott have been having a lot of quiet fighting up there we haven't heard about." "Is that what he came to see you about?" asked Doug. "No. It seems his trail out to the Mountain City road is snowed up. He wants to get his mail over here if Scott will let him use his trail. He wants me to speak to Scott about it." "What Scott will claim," Charleton smiled, "is that he positively must have a retired location and complete privacy on his trail." There was another chuckle, during which the preacher looked from one keen face to another, but he did not speak. "What has the scrapping been about, Peter?" asked Inez. Douglas turned quietly to look at her. It suddenly occurred to him that Inez used Peter's name with a cadence that was new to him. He saw that she was watching Peter's thin sallow face with a shadow of strain about her eyes. "O it's about a bull again," laughed Peter. "It seems that Scott has an old red bull that Nelson says is one of his, rebranded." "But I thought," began Judith; then she caught Charleton's sardonic eye and subsided. "What did you think, Judith?" asked Peter. "Nothing. Go on with your story." "There is no story to it. Scott's been keeping a six-shooter guard on the upper springs of Lost Chief, so's old Nelson hasn't had but half his usual allowance of water for his ditches. He is sorer about that than he is over the bull, though he certainly is determined to get the critter back. But he got small comfort out of me. I told him to keep his plural fingers off of Lost Chief Creek, or he would lose more than an old red bull." "Right-o!" grunted Charleton. "Are you going to ask Scott to let Nelson use his trail, Peter?" asked Inez. "Sure! Why not?" laughed Peter.