"You will not stir a step after the preacher, miss!" roared John.
Douglas stood in the stirrups facing his old friends and neighbors. But words failed him. He spurred the Moose out onto the trail.
Peter urged his horse up beside the Moose. "Where are you heading for,
Doug? You mustn't go off half-cocked."
"I'm going down to Inez' place and see if I can sweat the truth out of her."
"It's a slim chance!"
"I don't think so! It's too dark to follow tracks now, and you can bet they've covered themselves well, anyhow. I have a feeling that Inez knows. She must have been willing to murder the sky pilot after his sermon. If we don't get anything out of her by dawn, we'll get Frank Day and start. I know I can count on him."
"Well, perhaps you're right. Inez has been venomous about this and I can't say that I blame her. Easy now, Doug. The Moose is about all in."
Douglas grunted and the way to Inez' house was covered in silence. Douglas had no sense of confusion, nor of defeat. He was angry, but with his anger was a lust for battle and an exultation in the opportunity for it that smacked almost of joy. I'll get him back, he told himself, and I'll rebuild the chapel and I'll punish Charleton and Scott. Maybe I am nothing but a rancher a thousand miles from anywhere but no old crusader ever fought for the grail harder than I'm going to fight for my little old sky pilot. And if they hurt him—! Old Moose groaned as Douglas involuntarily thrust the spurs home.
There was a light in the kitchen of the Rodman ranch house. Douglas banged on the door, and when Inez called, he strode in, followed by Peter. Inez was sitting before the stove, on which a coffee-pot simmered. Scott Parsons stood beside the fire, coffee-cup in hand. Douglas helped himself to a chair and Peter imitated him.
"You folks didn't come up to my fire," said Doug.