"Well, that's Fowler's job," replied Peter. "He's been at it all his life. He's probably learned by this time the kind of sermons people don't like. I don't want to see him driven out of Lost Chief. I want him to have his chance."
"That's fair enough," exclaimed Charleton. "This isn't such bad fun. Why drive him out while the fun lasts? How about it, John?"
"Fair enough!" agreed John.
"Nothing doing!" cried Scott.
"Now, Scott," warned Charleton amiably, "you run the bull business and you'll have your hands full. We old regulars will handle the preacher."
"Huh!" sniffed Grandma Brown. "Wonderful! 'Old regulars!' Well, don't any of you old regulars forget that Douglas Spencer has grown up and that his brand mark is the same as his grandfather's. I think you all are acting like a parcel of children!"
Nobody spoke for a moment. Douglas watched Mr. Fowler anxiously, but the old preacher appeared to have no weapons with which to meet the occasion. Douglas felt that the situation was getting out of hand. He knew how to meet physical resistance, but he realized that he was only a novice in the sort of strategy that controls by mental superiority alone. He ground his teeth together.
"I'm young yet and I'll learn! See if I don't!" Then he pressed his lips together and waited.
Peter broke the silence.
"How about it, Fowler?"
"I'll agree to nothing. I am through compromising." The old man's eyes were blazing in a white face.
"You're foolish!" exclaimed the postmaster. "But we insist on giving you one more chance. Let's see
