After a pensive silence Teeters looked up wistfully: "I wonder if you and Miss Maggie would sing somethin'. I git a reg'lar cravin' to hear good music."
Mrs. Taylor laid down her work with a pleased expression.
"Certainly, Clarence. Is there anything in particular?"
"If it ain't too much trouble, I'd like, 'Oh, Think of the Home Over There.'"
"I'm delighted that your mind sometimes turns in that direction. I've sometimes feared, Clarence, that you were not religious."
Mr. Teeters looked pained at the suggestion.
"I don't talk about religion much," he replied earnestly, "but there's somethin' come up the last few days that set me thinkin' pretty serious."
Mrs. Taylor looked her curiosity.
"It's a turrible thing," Teeters wagged his head solemnly, "to see a feller layin' on his death-bed denyin' they's a Hereafter."
"Why, how dreadful! Who is it?"
"A sheepherder. He says they ain't no hell--nor nothin'."
"The po-oo-or soul! Is there any way I could talk to him?"
"I was hopin' you'd say that, but I didn't like to ask you, seein' as he's a sheepherder."
"They're human beings, Clarence," reproved Mrs. Taylor.
"I've heerd that questioned," declared Teeters, "but anyhow, a person with a heart in him no bigger than a bullet would have to be sorry to see this feller goin' to his everlasting punishment without repentin'. He's done murder."
"Murder!"
"I'll tell you about it to-morrow on the way over."
"Where is he?"
"At Kate Prentice's--at headquarters."
Mrs. Taylor stiffened.
"I shouldn't care to go there, Clarence." Seeing that his face clouded, she added: "Of course, if your heart is set upon it--the woman wouldn't construe it as a 'call' and return it, would she?"
"I hardly think so," replied Teeters dryly.
* * * * * As a result of this conversation, the following morning Kate saw Teeters driving up Bitter Creek with a second person on the seat beside him. She had just come down from Burnt Basin and was not in too good a humor. Bowers, who was staying with Mullendore, came out of the wagon when he heard her and asked: "How was it lookin'?"
"The spring was trampled to a bog," she said in an exasperated voice, "and the range is covered with bare spots where that dry-farmer has salted his cattle. I'll throw two bands of sheep in there, and when I take 'em off there won't be roots enough left to grow grass for five years. If it's fight he wants, I'll give him all he's looking for." Her brow cleared as she added: "Teeters is coming up the road and bringing some one with him." She nodded towards the wagon, "How is he?"