“But the Bible is full of things that I would call crooked.  Those prophets were always putting slick tricks over on each other and the people.  There was a lot of dirty work done in the name of the Lord by those ancient Jews.”

The preacher leaned toward the woman.  “Do you believe in right and wrong, Inez Rodman?”

“No, I don’t.  I believe in kindness and in beauty.  That’s all.”

“How does one believe in beauty?” asked Mr. Fowler.

“I mean,” she replied, “that if you fill your mind with the beauty of this Lost Chief country and with poetry, there is no room for anything ugly.”

“What would you call ugly?”

“Being mean to other people is one kind of ugliness.”

“That’s what I believe too,” said Judith suddenly.

“Then, of course, neither of you two would have anything to do with the attempt to run the preacher out,” suggested Douglas.

“No, I wouldn’t,” replied Inez; “and I told Scott so.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t consider you plumb loco, Doug.  Mr. Fowler isn’t the kind to make the folks see the beauty of these hills.  If he was I’d be helping instead of indifferent.”

“If the folks would let God enter their hearts,” cried the preacher, “they’d see beauty in these hills they never dreamed of.”

“Well, as far as beauty goes, Inez,” Douglas spoke thoughtfully, “you can’t say there isn’t considerable of that in the Bible.  Take the Songs of Solomon.  There never was finer love-making than that!”

“The Songs of Solomon don’t deal with human passion,” said Mr. Fowler hastily.  “They are a recital of man’s love for the Almighty and His works.”

“O, no, Mr. Fowler!” cried Doug. “’Behold thou art fair, my loved one, behold thou art fair.  Thou hast doves eyes within thy locks.’  No man ever said that about anything but a woman.”

No one spoke for a moment.  Old Prince, who was lying with his head baking under the stove, growled and barked, then made for the door.  Wolf Cub barked without, and a dog answered.

“Sister!” exclaimed Inez.  “Peter must be coming.”

Douglas opened the door and Prince shot out.  Shortly Peter, then Charleton, came in, stamping the snow from their spurs and pulling off their gauntlets.

“Where did you two come from?” asked Judith, as the newcomers established themselves on up-ended boxes close to the stove.

“Just met here,” replied Peter.  “I had supper at Spencer’s and came up to argue with the sky pilot.”

“I’m setting traps up on Lost Chief,” said Charleton, lighting a cigarette.

“Look out you don’t mistake any of Scott’s traps for yours,” suggested Inez.

Everybody chuckled, and Peter said, “Elijah Nelson was down at my place yesterday.  He’s a pleasant, easy spoken man.  I guess he and Scott have been having a lot of quiet fighting up there we haven’t heard about.”

“Is that what he came to see you about?” asked Doug.