"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