it will be no trick at all to make ten
to fifteen tons of hay. Help me grind the scythe, and we'll put in every
spare hour haying. While you ride around the cattle every morning, I
can mow."

A farm training proved an advantage to the boys. Before coming West,
their father had owned a mowing machine, but primitive methods prevailed
on the frontier, and he had been compelled to use a scythe in his haying
operations. Joel swung the blade like a veteran, scattering his swath to
cure in the sun, and with whetstone on steel, beat a frequent tattoo.
The raking into windrows and shocking at evening was an easy task for
the brothers, no day passing but the cured store was added to, until
sufficient was accumulated to build a stack. That was a task which tried
their mettle, but once met and overcome, it fortified their courage to
meet other ordeals.

"I wish Mr. Quince could see that stack of hay," admiringly said Dell,
on the completion of the first effort. "There must be five tons in it.
And it's as round as an apple. I can't remember when I've worked so hard
and been so hungry. No wonder the Texan despises any work he can't do on
horseback. But just the same, they're dear, good fellows. I wish Mr.
Quince could live with us always. He's surely a good forager."

The demand for range was accented anew. One evening two strangers rode
up the creek and asked for a night's lodging. They were made welcome,
and proved to be Texas cowmen, father and son, in search of pasturage
for a herd of through cattle. There was an open frankness about the
wayfarers that disarmed every suspicion of wrong intent, and the
brothers met their inquiries with equal candor.

"And you lads are Wells Brothers?" commented the father, in kindly
greeting. "We saw your notice, claiming this range, at the trail
crossing, and followed your wagon track up the creek. Unless the market
improves, we must secure range for three thousand two-year-old steers.
Well, we'll get acquainted, anyhow."

The boys naturally lacked commercial experience in their new occupation.
The absence of Forrest was sorely felt, and only the innate kindness of
the guests allayed all feeling of insecurity. As the evening wore on,
the old sense of dependence brought the lads in closer touch with the
strangers, the conversation running over the mutual field of range and
cattle matters.

"What is the reason," inquired Joel, "that so many cattle are leaving
your State for the upper countr