He put his pipe in his mouth, and lighted it. Douglas gave a long, uncertain sigh.
"No, thanks, Peter! I must get back to my sky pilot. You will be at the log chapel early on Sunday?"
"Yes. But you'd better let him handle the meeting. Have him preach on immortality. You've sort of got them going on that."
Douglas nodded, put his hand on the door-knob, then turned back.
"Peter, does life never finish with a man? Don't you find peace anywhere along the line?"
"Not your kind of a man. There are a number of sure springs in the desert, though, where a man can be certain of a mighty pleasant camp. But it's only a camp."
Douglas moistened his lips. "What can a fellow do about it?" he demanded.
"Well," replied the older man, "he can make up his mind to find it devilishly interesting, even the dry marches."
The young rider threw back his head. "Me—I'm going to find more than interest! I'll find color and some thrills, too. See if I don't!"
Peter laughed grimly. "Yes, you'll find a thrill or two but always where you least expect it."