Judith of the Godless Valley | Page 4

cemetery yonder, that is, if they put on enough rocks so
the coyotes get discouraged."
Douglas shivered. "I wonder if that's what I'll believe when I get to
thinking about such things," he thought. "Hanged if I'll think of 'em till
I'm old!"
"I'm with you, Charleton!" called Oscar Jefferson, rumpling his silvery
hair with his soft white cowman's hand.
The Reverend Mr. Fowler leaned over the desk. "Charleton Falkner,
aren't you man enough to admit that you folks here in Lost Chief lead a
wicked life?"
"How do you mean, wicked?" demanded Charleton.
"I mean that you steal cattle, that you shoot to kill, that there is
indecency among your children, that your young girls go unguarded
and that your young men are no better than wild horses. I mean that
your little girls drink whiskey. And I defy you to show me two mothers
in the valley who have taught their children to pray and to walk with
God."
"Aw!" sniffed Oscar Jefferson, "if that's what you've come a hundred
miles to tell us, you'd better quit! That may do for foreigners and city
slums, but it won't go down with the Lost Chief cowman. We're
Americans, here."
"Americans!" cried Mr. Fowler. "How much does that mean?"
Jefferson rose to his full six feet. "By God, I'll tell you what it means! It
means our ancestors conquered the Indians, in New England, that we
fought the British in the Revolution and the rebels in the Civil War and
the hombres in the Spanish-American War. It means that fifty years ago
the father or the grandfather of every man in this room came out here

and fought the Indians and the wolves and the Mormons--"
Charleton Falkner interrupted with his twisted smile that showed even,
tobacco stained teeth. "Jeff, this ain't the Fourth of July celebration, you
know!"
Jefferson somewhat sheepishly subsided to the desk on which he had
been sitting.
"That's exactly why I came back!" cried the preacher. "I know that you
and Lost Chief belong to the heroic early history of America. This
should be a valley of old Puritan ideals. A church should stand here
beside the school. You never have built a church. You never have
allowed a minister to settle here. You never--"
Here Grandma Brown's brother-in-law, Johnny Brown, spoke. "I've
deponed that many a time to this crowd of mavericks! You'd ought
to--"
"Keep quiet, Johnny!" ordered Grandma. "Fowler, if you are going to
give us a regular Bible sermon, go ahead. Otherwise, I'm going home. I
can jaw, myself."
"Also, cuss some, Grandma," suggested a slow voice. Grandma did not
heed.
"If you're going to preach, preach," she said to the minister.
Mr. Fowler threw his head back. "Ten years ago I let you drive me out
of Lost Chief before I'd preached a sermon. God has never let me rest
since, no matter where I was, and when I was re-appointed to Mountain
City, before I preached my first sermon there, I came out here. You are
going to have the Word of God preached to you to-day if you shoot me
for it. And beware lest you come to Esau's fate for ye know how
afterward, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected,
for he found no place for repentance, though he sought it carefully,
with tears."

He paused, took a Bible from his pocket and opened it.
Douglas waited tensely. The preacher looked to him as if weighted with
mysterious knowledge, as if something infinitely illuminating were to
issue from his bearded lips. The boy had a sudden conviction that
Fowler was about to say something that would answer the longing that
had so oppressed him lately. He hunched his broad, thin shoulders
forward, his clear blue eyes on the preacher's face.
Fowler cleared his throat. "'Moreover, the word of the Lord came unto
me, saying, Now thou son of man, wilt thou judge, wilt thou hide the
guilty city? Yea, thou shalt show her all her abominations.'"
He closed the Bible. "Friends, this is my message and my text. I am
going to show you your abominations of crookednesses. I am going to
show you that hell is yawning for such as you."
Douglas sighed. "Old fool!" he muttered. "As Grandma Brown says,
she can jaw. He's lost his chance with me." He slipped out of the door,
mounted his horse and nodded to the group of youngsters waiting for
him. Then he urged Buster up the steps, through the door and up the
aisle. The others followed him. A moment later, the schoolroom was
chaos. Horses pranced over the desks. Dogs barked and fought among
the horses' legs. Babies screamed. Oaths filled the air. Lost Chief
rocked with laughter.
Fowler jumped upon the teacher's desk,