Douglas grunted and the way to Inez’ house was covered in silence.  Douglas had no sense of confusion, nor of defeat.  He was angry, but with his anger was a lust for battle and an exultation in the opportunity for it that smacked almost of joy.  I’ll get him back, he told himself, and I’ll rebuild the chapel and I’ll punish Charleton and Scott.  Maybe I am nothing but a rancher a thousand miles from anywhere but no old crusader ever fought for the grail harder than I’m going to fight for my little old sky pilot.  And if they hurt him—!  Old Moose groaned as Douglas involuntarily thrust the spurs home.

There was a light in the kitchen of the Rodman ranch house.  Douglas banged on the door, and when Inez called, he strode in, followed by Peter.  Inez was sitting before the stove, on which a coffee-pot simmered.  Scott Parsons stood beside the fire, coffee-cup in hand.  Douglas helped himself to a chair and Peter imitated him.

“You folks didn’t come up to my fire,” said Doug.

Inez, who had followed his movements intently, smiled sardonically.  “Did you expect either of us?”

“Not exactly.  I didn’t expect to see Scott here, either.  It was rumored that you’d had a quarrel and that was why you left the party early.”

Inez shrugged her shoulders.  “Where’s Judith?”

“She’s probably helping old Johnny up at my place.  There didn’t seem to be anybody else likely to stay, after the fireworks.”

“And what are you and Peter doing down here at a time like this?” asked Inez, looking at the postmaster as she spoke.

“I was going to get you to tell me what Scott and Charleton had told you about this partnership affair of theirs.  But as long as Scott is here, I’ll just sweat it out of him.”

Scott laughed.

“What makes you think I know anything about it?”

“You have cause to hate the preacher more than any one,” replied Douglas simply.

Inez’ chin came up proudly.  “I’m glad you realize that!” she exclaimed.

“But it’s not exactly evidence,” said Scott suddenly, “that Charleton and I had anything to do with the affair.”

“No, nor, if they did put over the job, that I knew about it,” added Inez.

“Which job do you refer to?” asked Peter.

“Running the preacher,” replied Inez.

“But how did you happen to know he had been run?” Peter’s eyes were half shut.  “You came home early and didn’t go up to the fire.”

Inez bit her lip.  Peter smiled grimly, his long, sallow face wearier than ever in the lamplight.  “You aren’t the kind to get away with a plot, Inez.  Leave that to Charleton.”

“No reason why some one couldn’t have telephoned, is there?” demanded Scott.

“No reason at all,” replied Peter, “except that Inez’ phone has been out of order for a week and I promised to come up to-morrow and fix it for her.”

“I didn’t think,” said Douglas, “that you were the kind to get mixed up in a rough deal like this, Inez.  I’ll admit that Fowler’s sermon was raw and all that, but still you are no hand to blink facts.  Didn’t you have it coming to you?”