“Too bad!” grunted Peter.

“O, I don’t know,” replied Douglas.  “I don’t see much to this marriage game anyhow.  Look at the couples round here and point me out any of ’em that’s been married over five years that’re really in love.  Just a houseful of brats and a woman to nag you.”

“Dry up, Doug!  You are just quoting Charleton Falkner.  I’ve heard plenty of his empty ideas in the last twenty years.  You’ve worked for him long enough, anyhow.  Better go back to your home; or if you’re through with Jude, take my offer and go East to school.”

“Forget it, Peter!  As soon as Fire Mesa opens up, I’m going after wild horses with Charleton.  And you can roast him all you want to, but he knows life.”

“Knows your foot!” snorted Peter.  “If anybody could catch Charleton with his skin off, we’d find he gets happiness and sorrow out of the same things the rest of us do.  He’s just a big bluff, Charleton is.”

“He’s lived too much to let anything get him,” said Douglas stoutly.

Peter laughed.  “Nobody can accuse you of having lived too much, Douglas.”  Then he added soberly, “You’re disappointing me a lot, Douglas.  I never thought you’d let go of Jude.”

“Jude let go of me,” replied Douglas.  “I suppose she thought I’d come running back to her, but she’s mistaken.  I’m through with women.”

“Don’t talk like an idiot, Doug,” said Peter, after a long careful look at Douglas’ face.  “I know you.  You are breaking your heart this minute for Judith.  And she misses you a whole lot more than she’ll admit.”

“How do you know?  Have you talked to her?” asked Douglas quickly.  “How are things going up there?”

“Yes, I’ve talked to her.  She’s all right, but she’s getting too many of Inez’ ideas in her head.  She says John doesn’t say ten words a day.  You’d better go back, Doug.”

“Go back!  With Jude believing I double-crossed her and nothing but rows going all the time?  I’ll admit I’m unhappy, but at least it’s peaceful at Charleton’s.  He and his wife don’t fight.  I tell you that if home’s just a place to fight in, I don’t want a home.”

“What do you want, Douglas?” asked Peter.

“I don’t know,” muttered the young rider.

“I know,” said Peter softly.  “You want a guiding star, you want something that’s not to be found in this valley, an ideal fine enough to save your soul alive.  You come of stock that lived and died by a spiritual idea, Doug, and you are going to be unhappy till you find one.”

Douglas turned this over in his mind soberly for a few minutes.  “Have you got one, Peter?” he finally asked, wistfully.

“No!  I might have had if your mother had lived.  She was an idealist if ever there was one.  Work yourself out a plan, Doug, that is based on something fine, then fight to put it over.  That’s the only way you’ll ever be contented.”

“What I want,” cried Douglas, “is something to take away this emptiness inside of me.”