“He starved out at preaching and is herding sheep down in the Green Thimble country.  He fed Charleton and me and we had a long talk.”

“You had nerve to eat with him after what you did to him!” John was grinning.

“I felt that way myself,” agreed Douglas.  “But he didn’t hold a grudge against me.  He’s not that kind.  And I think he was so lonely he’d have been glad to feed the Old Nick himself.”

“Who is he herding for?” asked Mary.

“Some one in Denver.  He’s going to give it up in the fall.”

“What for?  Got a church?” John was still grinning.

Douglas nodded slowly.  “Yes, he’s got a church.”

“Did he tell you where?” asked Mary.

“Yes; it’s in Lost Chief,” replied Douglas.

“Lost Chief!” roared John.  “What are you giving us?”

“I’m giving it to you straight.  I asked him if he would come if I’d build him a little church up on my part of the ranch and he said he would.”

There was a stunned silence while the audience of three considered this reply.  Judith eyed Doug intently, then said, “I bite!  What is the joke, Douglas?”

“No joke.  I asked him to come.  I want to hear what he has to say.”

“What did Charleton say about it?” asked Mary.

“Charleton doesn’t know.  I certainly wouldn’t give him a chance to spoil the trip.”  Douglas tossed the thick yellow hair from his forehead and waited for his father’s comment.  He could not recall ever having carried on a more difficult conversation than this.  There were beads of sweat on his upper lip.  Old Fowler had warned him of the antagonism he would meet.  And here it was.  The air was black with it before a hundred words had been spoken.

John scratched his head.  “You mean you actually asked that old fool to come here and preach in Lost Chief?”

Douglas nodded over a piece of pie.  “Only,” he added, “he’s not a fool.  Far from it.  We may not agree with him, but he’s a wise man.  A very wise old man.”

“And you are going to build a church for him?” John went on.

Again Douglas nodded.

“Are you plumb loco?” John’s voice began to rise.

Douglas’ color was deepening but he had himself well in hand.  “Maybe I am loco.  But it can’t hurt any one to have Fowler here, can it?”

“I guess he won’t stay long enough to do any actual harm!” Judith laughed.

“He’s going to stay quite a spell,” returned Doug.  “I’m going to see that he does.”

“But everybody will make fun of him and of you too,” volunteered Mary.

“Probably,” agreed Douglas.  “But even at that I doubt if they have as much fun as I do.  My sense of humor is my strong point!”

“Huh!” sniffed Judith.  “You’ll need more than what you have, Douglas, in this campaign.”

“Look here, Doug,” urged his father with an obvious effort to be patient, “just what is the joke?”