“Thanks,” grunted Jimmy.  “Say, did you know Scott Parsons has had four young calves by one milch cow, all the same age?  Ree-markable man, Scott.  Say, I was by there the other day and there sat Scott in the corral on Ginger cracking a black snake at this fool cow to make her let those four slicks eat.  He’ll die rich, Scott will.  He’s the calf-gettingest rider in the Rockies.”

Douglas turned the Moose into the home trail.  When he reached the ranch, Judith was strolling in the main corral with her arm about the neck of the bull Scott had given her.  He would follow Judith about like a pet dog but would allow no one else to touch him.

“When he is a little older, you won’t be able to play with him that way, Jude,” said Douglas, eying the pair with admiration not untinctured with apprehension.

It was a brilliant afternoon, with the western sun throwing long golden shadows across old Dead Line Peak.  The corral with its fringe of quivering aspens a silvery lavender; the great red bull; the young girl with her noble proportions, rubbing the brute’s ferocious head with one slender brown hand, made an unforgettable picture.  The puppy, Wolf Cub, was chewing an old boot beside the alfalfa stack.

“He’ll always be fond of me if I handle him right,” said Judith.  “Won’t you, Sioux?  I’m going to saddle him, some day, Doug.”

“Well, not while I’m around,” exclaimed the young rider, as he pulled the bridle over the Moose’s head.  “Say, have you seen Scott yet?”

“No.  Why?”

“I pity him.  Charleton sure is after him.”

“Charleton?  Why?”

Douglas shrugged his shoulders.  “You ask Scott why,” and he strode off to his chores.

Doug did not see Charleton again for several days.  But one afternoon, about a week after the return from the hunt, they met at the post-office and Charleton, who wanted to see John, rode home with him.

“Scott is back,” said Doug.

“Yes; I saw him yesterday.”  Charleton smiled.  “I found out who was his helper on that little deal.”

“You did!  How?” Douglas’ voice was so sharp that the Moose jumped nervously.

“I bought the information.  Swapped him something for it.”

“Who was it?  Do you believe him?” Doug spoke a little breathlessly.

“I don’t know.  I’m going to check up on it now.”

“Charleton, who did he say it was?  Please, Charleton!”

The older man turned to look suspiciously at Doug.  “How long have you known it?”

“You’ve no call to speak that way to me,” cried Douglas.

“Humph!  Well, he says it was that young devil of a Jude.”

“Look here, Charleton, don’t say anything to my father about it.  He’ll go crazy.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do.  I’ll talk to Jude, first.”  And Charleton would say no more.

He found Judith in the milking shed, and while he talked to her there Douglas engaged his father’s attention in the living-room.  Here Judith swept upon them.