“You fellows help me up on Democrat and we’ll beat it for home.”

“But you don’t believe the Moose—­” began Doug.  But Charleton interrupted.

“If I wasn’t crippled I’d mighty soon show you fellows what I believed.  As it is, I’m going home.  But if I find either of you has double-crossed me, I’ll square accounts.”

There was that in Charleton’s eyes which caused the two riders to dismount without a word.  They heaved him into his saddle and, with his lariat, arranged a sling for his injured ankle.  When they had made him as comfortable and secure as possible, Scott said politely: 

“You don’t need two of us, Charleton.  I think I’ll go after a bear I saw in the raspberry patch beyond the corral.”

“Nothing doing, Scott!” grunted Charleton.

“You’ve fallen down on the job, Charleton,” Scott laughed, “so you’ve lost your right to boss.”

“No, he hasn’t,” said Douglas.  “You come along!”

But this time Doug’s six-shooter flashed no more quickly than Scott’s.  Charleton, his face twisted with pain, waited for a thoughtful minute before he said: 

“Put up your guns, boys.  Let him go, Doug,” and he turned his horse eastward.

Douglas reluctantly returned his gun to his hip and Scott disappeared at a canter.  The Moose followed after Democrat.

“What did you do that for, Charleton?” demanded Douglas, resentfully.  “That’s just giving him the herd.”

“If he has double-crossed me,” returned the older man, “I’m in no shape to handle him just now.  He never came back to meet you till he’d turned the herd over to an accomplice.  In any case, I lose on this trick.”

“But he didn’t know you were going to meet up with a bull!”

“No, but he was going to keep us away from the corral, somehow.  You remember he said he’d come back to get us to help him bring in some steers.  Of course, you and he might be in cahoots on this, but Scott’s tricky so I’m giving you some of the benefits of the doubt.”  Charleton turned in his saddle to favor Douglas with a suspicious stare.

“I didn’t double-cross you, Charleton,” said Douglas, not without a simple dignity that may or may not have impressed his mentor.  At any rate, Charleton made no reply.

Douglas was entirely deflated.  He drooped dejectedly in the saddle, guiding the stiff and weary Moose without interest.  His wonderful expedition by which he was to establish his standing as a man with his father and Judith had ended in ignominy.  He watched Charleton’s painfully rigid back but he did not dare to speak to him until they were nearly home.  As they neared the edge of the first line, the ground became tapestried with lilies, yellow, white and crimson.  Tree-trunks turned blue against the blue skies that belled over the valley.  As they descended, the Forest Reserve lifted gradually, a black green sea beyond the burning brown level of the ranches.  But Douglas was in no frame of mind either to seek or to see beauty.  He had a guilty sense that Charleton believed that he had failed him, and finally he summoned courage to call, “Doggone it, Charleton!  I wanted to put it over, don’t you suppose?”