us by
making, instead of one, two round trips daily. The fuel supply grew, not
to meet a winter's, but a year's requirements. Where strength was
essential, only the best of timber was chosen, and well within the time
limit the materials for corral and branding chute were at hand on the
ground. One task met and mastered, all subsequent ones seemed easier.

"We're ahead of time," said Joel with a quiet air of triumph, as the
last load of stays reached the corral site. "If we only knew the plans,
we might dig the post-holes. The corn's still growing, and it won't do
to cut until it begins to ripen--until the sugar rises in the stock. We
can't turn another wheel until Mr. Paul returns."

Idleness was galling to Joel Wells. "We'll ride the range to-day," he
announced the following morning. "From here to the ford doesn't matter,
but all the upper tributaries ought to be known. We must learn the
location of every natural shelter. If a storm ever cuts us off from the
corrals, we must point the herd for some other port."

"The main Beaver forks only a few miles above Hackberry Grove,"
suggested Dell.

"Then we'll ride out the south fork to-day and come back through the
sand hills. There must be some sheltered nooks in that range of dunes."

That the morning hour has gold in its mouth, an unknown maxim at the new
ranch, mattered nothing. The young cowmen were up and away with the
rising sun, riding among and counting the different bunches of cattle
encountered, noting the cripples, and letting no details of the
conditions of the herd, in their leisurely course up the creek, escape
their vigilance.

The cattle tallied out to an animal, and were left undisturbed on their
chosen range. Two hours' ride brought the boys to the forks of the
Beaver, and by the middle of the forenoon the south branch of the creek
was traced to its source among the sand dunes. If not inviting, the
section proved interesting, with its scraggy plum brush, its unnumbered
hills, and its many depressions, scalloped out of the sandy soil by the
action of winds. Coveys of wild quail were encountered, prairie chicken
took wing on every hand, and near the noon hour a monster gray wolf
arose from a sunny siesta on the summit of a near-by dune, and sniffed
the air in search of the cause of disturbance. Unseen, the boys reined
in their horses, a windward breeze favored the view for a moment, when
ten nearly full-grown cubs also arose and joined their mother in