"It's not a matter of making up," said Douglas. "It wasn't a thing you could make up. It was just one more fact to knock a fellow's faith in life's being a straight deal." John did not answer for a moment, but something very like a blush rolled over his tanned face. For the first time in his life, perhaps, he felt that he had done something shameful. But he made no admission. "You'll come home and let us nurse you, Doug?" he asked when the blush had gone. "I guess I'd better stay with Peter. I never want to come home while Judith believes I squealed to Charleton." "Jude doesn't believe anything of the kind. She's just a flighty, fool girl." "Thanks, dear Father!" sniffed Judith. John did not glance at the girl. He was watching Douglas eagerly. "I thought it was me that kept you away from home. I can make Jude apologize as soon as I get Scott back here. If I clear that up, then will you come home, old boy?" "Yes, I guess so. But that won't keep me from settling with Scott for to-night." "Sure! But you get well, Dougie!" John turned from the bed with the look of sullenness wiped as by magic from his face. Douglas stared at Judith. His mind was confused but he realized that the loneliness and despondency of the day was gone. He was blindly angry with Scott yet grateful to the event which had brought Judith to his aid. John held a low-voiced colloquy with Peter as to the nature of Douglas' wound; then with a cheerful goodnight, he went out. Douglas closed his eyes. "You fix yourself up a bed on the floor, Judith," said Peter. "I'll keep the fire going and an eye on Douglas. To-morrow you can take your turn." Judith answered pleadingly, "I'm not tired or sleepy, Peter. And I almost never get a chance to talk alone with you. Let me sit up with you!" Peter's long, harsh face softened. "All right, Jude! We'll keep the old coffee-pot going and make a night of it. Then--" He was interrupted by the sound of wordy altercation among the dogs outside. Judith cocked a knowing ear. "Wolf Cub's in trouble! I'd better let him in, Peter. He and Sister will snarl and quarrel all night. They get along about like Dad and I do." "It'll break Sister's heart, but go ahead. I always tell her, guests first," said Peter. Judith opened the door a crack and whistled. There was a rush outside of many paws, and Wolf Cub's long gray muzzle appeared in the narrow orifice. There was a scramble, a yip from Wolf Cub, and he was inside, licking Judith's hand and trying to climb into Peter's lap at the same time. He was two-thirds grown now and as big as a day-old calf. Judith gazed at him with utter pride. "Isn't he a lamb, Peter? Now, you get over in the corner, Wolf, and don't let me hear a sound from you to-night!" The great puppy looked up into her face with ears cocked, then turned slowly and crept into the corner indicated and with a groan lay down. Peter jerked his head in admiration.