“And have everybody in the crowd laughing at me like they are at you?  I won’t do anything against the old man, Douglas, for your sake.  But that’s all I’ll promise.”

“I’m not going to let you off that easy, Jude.  Come up to supper to-night.  I won’t let him talk religion.  Honest, he’s as interesting as a book when he gets to telling some of his experiences.”

Judith shook her head.  “I’d rather stay at home with ‘Pendennis.’”

“If I get Inez to come, will you?” urged Douglas.

Judith grinned impishly.  “Yes, I’d come with Inez.”

They returned from the post-office via the west trail and stopped at Inez’ place.  She was eating a belated dinner in her slatternly kitchen, and waved a hospitable hand over the table.

“Thanks, no,” said Doug.  “I just stopped by to see if you and Judith wouldn’t come up and have supper with the sky pilot and me.  I won’t let him talk religion and he’s got some good stories to tell.”

Inez looked Douglas over.  He and the tall Judith seemed to fill the kitchen.  Doug finally had covered his big frame with muscles and he was a larger and handsomer man than his father.

“Doug,” said Inez, “I am truly flattered.  What are you trying to do?  Convert me?”

Douglas answered with simple sincerity.  “I don’t care a hang whether you get converted or not.”

“O you don’t!  Well, just to spite you, I’ll come and let the old fellow try his hand!”

“Not really, Inez?” gasped Judith.

“I’d do more than that for Doug and for Lost Chief,” said Inez soberly, “Doug isn’t the only person who loves this old hole in the hills.”

Judith turned to Douglas with a sudden wistfulness in her eyes, a sudden flare of a fire he had not seen in them before.  He waited for her to speak but she only turned away toward the door.

“I’ll look for you about six then, Inez,” he said, and he followed Judith.

When the girls appeared at the cabin that evening, the table was set and the steak was frying.  Inez and Judith winked at each other when Mr. Fowler said grace but otherwise the meal progressed decorously enough.  It was Inez who brought up the tabooed subject.  They had been sitting round the stove listening to a tale of old lynch law which the preacher told with real skill, when Inez interrupted him with entire irrelevance.

“Mr. Fowler, do you really believe there is such a thing as right and wrong?”

The preacher paused, studying Inez’ face.  Her dark eyes were steady and thoughtful.  Her mouth, except for the slightly heavy lower lip, was sensitive.  Her whole expression was one of pride and independence.

“Yes, I believe in right and wrong,” replied Mr. Fowler, deliberately.

“What makes you believe that a man who lived nearly two thousand years ago can decide what is right or wrong for Lost Chief?” she asked.

“The Bible,” answered the preacher.