"What price did I pay?" asked Scott. "Doug," commanded John, "you tell your story." Douglas, with considerable embarrassment and assisted by Judith, told of their trip with the mail stage. Scott listened with little apparent interest. He said nothing when the story was done. "It's like this, Scott," said John. "It looks like you killed him. You've got a bad temper. So had Oscar. You fought for over a year about that fool bull, first one of you branding it, then the other. You're young and you'd better give yourself up. You'll stand a better chance." "Go ahead, Scott!" cried Judith. "I'll stand your friend like you did mine when I rode old Oscar's milch cow 'most to death!" "Shut up, Jude!" exclaimed Douglas. "Go ahead, Scott," John half smiled. "You needn't worry. You have a friend!" "A friend won't do him much good, if he's guilty," grunted Charleton Falkner. "Anybody's better off for at least one friend," repeated Judith stoutly. "Darn it! All of you picking on poor old Scott!" "Lean on me, Grandpa!" piped Jimmy Day. Scott's haggard eyes focused on Judith. "I'll hold you to that, Jude! By God, you're the only white man in the valley! I came in to give myself up, Jude. The cold got me. I shot him, after he'd rebranded the bull before my eyes and after he'd given me this." He ripped open his mackinaw and shirt and tore a rag from his shoulder, disclosing a vivid wound. "I ain't the only one that's quick on the trigger!" There was a quick murmur among the riders. John and Charleton, the oldest men in the group, looked at each other. "Charleton, you and Jimmy Day ride to Scott's house with him," said John. "I'll go to the house and telephone to the sheriff." He mounted and rode off. "Can your horse carry you so far, Scott?" asked Judith. Scott nodded, with something curiously like tears in his hard hazel eyes. "You take the bull, Jude," he said. "I'd like for you to have him. He's standard bred." Judith's eyes shone like stars. "If Dad'll only let me! Do you think he will, Doug?" Douglas shrugged his shoulders. The bull was tied to the fence and Scott rode slowly away with his escort. When John returned from telephoning he gave a grudging consent to Judith's taking the bull, and the dehorning went on. Not until the blue velvet shadow of Falkner's Peak lay heavy on the incarnadined corral and the last bellowing steer had found solace at the haystacks did the riders start homeward. Douglas followed Judith, as she led the scare-crow bull. "He's a good mate for Swift," he said. "You're just jealous!" retorted Judith. "Of what?" demanded Douglas. "Of me starting a herd before you do!" "Ha! Ha!" ejaculated Doug, without a smile, and nothing more was said until they reached the house. At supper that night John asked Judith why she had shown so much friendship for Scott Parsons. "I was sorry for him," she replied. "But he killed our old neighbor!" exclaimed John.