"Can't any of you men that knew Oscar all his life say something comforting before you close his grave?" she urged. "Then I'll try to do it. I was brought up religious, myself." She lifted her serene old face to the evening sky. "O God, this man wandered far from You like all the rest of us here. But an old woman like me believes You're there and that you know Oscar hadn't a really bad hair in his head. Take his soul, Lord, and be as good to him as You can. I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, even though he die, yet shall he have Eternal Life." The tears were running down many cheeks when the old lady finished. Foolish old Johnny laughed, then he began to sing a hymn in which several of the women joined. "God be with you till we meet again, By his counsels guide, uphold you, With his sheep securely fold you, God be with you till we meet again." And so the earthly career of Oscar Jefferson ended. CHAPTER III THE GRADUATION DANCE "Horses, dogs, guns, women, whiskey, the open country of the Rockies--enough for any man." --_Charleton Falkner_. Instead of riding home with Judith, after the ceremony, Douglas, on sudden impulse, took a roundabout way to the post-office, thence toward the Browns' ranch. Dusk was settling in the valley. The quivering aspens along Lost Chief creek were etched gray rose on the deep blue snow. Far to the east a single scarlet mountain-top pierced through the twilight blue. Buster loped swiftly through the swimming landscape. When he reached the post-office Douglas did not stop but rode on along Black Gulch trail to the Browns'. Grandma, returning by the direct route from the cemetery, had been home for a half-hour before Doug arrived. She was coming out of the cow stable, lantern in hand, when the boy dismounted at the corral. Spurs clanking, brave chaps flapping, Douglas ran to her like a child and caught her apron in his gauntleted hand. "Grandma! Tell me something! Did you believe what you said at the grave?" The old lady held the lantern up to his face. "Come into the cow stable out of the wind, Doug." Within the dim shelter she hung the lantern on a nail and sat down on a box, indicating another to the young rider. "Yes, I believed it, boy. Didn't you?" "No, Grandma! And none of the men do that count in this valley. Is it just old woman stuff, like they say?" "Maybe!" sniffed Grandma. "And if you believe it," Doug rushed on, "why did you let us run the preacher out?" "O, the preacher! Pooh! He's nothing but a blankety blank sissy like the rest of the sky pilots!" "But can't I believe like you do, Grandma? I'm just the unhappiest guy in the world!" "You mean," the old lady spoke deliberately, "that this is the first funeral you've seen that's set you to thinking and the fear of death is on you for the first time. I hope it'll do you good, Doug. You're an awful rough little devil."