“You sure can.  We can use those rooms upstairs for sleeping.  Fine!  I’ll be glad to have you.  You too, Fowler.”

“Where’s Scott Parsons?” asked Douglas.

“He’s still with Inez.  Seems like you gave him a bad knock-out.  He’s having rough going, I can tell you.  Inez has turned against him and Grandma Brown had to go over there and take care of him.  And she is in no frame of mind to stand anything from anybody.”  Peter chuckled, then went on.  “Charleton says he was in bed and asleep by eleven o’clock Saturday night, and nobody has been able to prove that he wasn’t.  I don’t think there is a doubt in the world that it was Scott and Charleton did the dirty work, but it’s going to be hard to prove.”

Peter set a kettle of beans on the stove and Judith prepared a pot of coffee.

“Take off your spurs, Fowler,” Peter nodded genially at the preacher.  “All’s well that ends well.  I hope that nothing more than your feelings got hurt.”

To Peter’s utter astonishment Mr. Fowler suddenly laughed heartily.

“My feelings, Peter,” he exclaimed, “were never in better trim than they are this minute.”

“Nor mine!” agreed Douglas.

“Nor mine!” added Judith.

Peter stared from one face to another.  “It sort of looks,” he said finally, “as if I had sweated blood for nothing.”

“No, you haven’t, Peter!” exclaimed Douglas.  “Tragedy certainly stalked our tracks.”

“Let me have the story,” begged the postmaster.  “Jude, after you left John and old Johnny, what happened?  You evidently went plumb crazy.  Begin at that point.  And don’t leave out anything!”

He lighted his pipe and sat down.  Judith, swinging her spurred boots as she sat on the table, began obediently.  She took Peter along every hour of her trip until she fell into that dreadful sleep on the south slope of Black Devil.  Douglas took up his story there and when he had finished, Mr. Fowler repeated the account of his adventure.

Peter heaved a great sigh.  “Some adventure!  Lord!  Lord!  What a narrow squeak!  Well, and what did our Mormon friends have to say to all these doings?”

Judith and Douglas smiled at each other.  Peter, catching that smile, started forward in his chair, then turned to Fowler.  The preacher smiled broadly.  “Let me tell that part of it,” he begged.  Douglas and Judith nodded, and the old man plunged with great enjoyment into the account of the happenings that morning at Nelson’s ranch.

When he finished with the wedding, Peter rose, his face working.  He walked over to Judith and looked deep into her eyes, and without a word kissed her on the cheek.  Then he wrung Douglas’ hand.

“Hang it all!” he said.  “There is something startlingly right the way life works out if you give it a chance!”

Nobody answered.  Douglas and Judith were smiling at each other and the preacher was engrossed in watching them.  Peter cleared his throat.