“Don’t worry!” Judith spoke through set teeth.  “I’ll be even with him some day.”

“I just as soon try to lick him,” said Doug.  “But what good would it do?”

The three sat in silence for a moment; then Douglas asked suddenly, “Inez, do you believe that poetry about the Fire Mist that you taught Judith?”

“No; but I think it’s a beautiful poem, just the same.”

“Say it all for me, will you, Inez?”

Inez, in her soft contralto, repeated the lines.

“And you don’t believe it?” Douglas’ voice was wistful.  “Don’t you wish you did?”

“I don’t know as I do,” replied Inez.

“But don’t you see,” urged Douglas, “that without believing it, there’s no meaning to anything?”

“Well, what of it?” asked Inez.

“I’m the kind of a guy that has to see a purpose to things, I guess,” replied Douglas, heavily.  “Peter is dead right.  Lost Chief is a rotten hole.”

“It’s a rotten place for women and a paradise for men,” stated Judith flatly.

“Never was any place in the world more beautiful,” mused Inez.  “If you’d just see the beauty all around you, Doug, you’d do without the religion.”

“I do see the beauty,” replied Douglas.  “I’ve been seeing it ever since you told me to look for it.  But it just makes me blue.”

“You’re no cowman, Douglas,” Inez spoke thoughtfully.  “You ought to go East to college and get into politics or something!”

Douglas shook his head.  “I’m like Charleton.  I couldn’t leave these hills and plains for anything the East has to offer me.”  He rose slowly, and Inez stared up at him.  Tall, slender, straight, his young face a little strained, a little wistful, he was to the older woman something finer than Lost Chief knew.

“Judith,” she said suddenly, “you’re an awful fool!”

Judith grunted, immersed in her own troubles.

“Come, old lady,” said Douglas.  “We must get home.”

“I’m going to stay all night with Inez.”

“No, you’re not, Jude,” said Douglas quietly, and he stood waiting.

“Let her stay, Doug.  She’ll be all right,” urged Inez.

“No,” replied the young rider, with the familiar straightening of his chin.  “Come, Judith!”

The tall girl rose, shrugged her shoulders, and followed slowly to the corral after Douglas.  Inez did not move and shortly they trotted away, leaving her alone in the firelight.

The next day, sullenly enough, John ordered Doug to make the horses ready for the round-up.  Frost had set in and he suddenly announced himself as fearful lest snows catch the herds high on the mountains.  So Douglas and Judith spent the day bringing in several stout horses from the range.  On the morning following, before breakfast was finished, Scott Parsons hallooed from the corral.  The family went to the door.

Scott was leading Sioux and Whoop-la.

“Found these in the old Government corral up on Lost Chief Mountain,” he said laconically.