as he approached the
grove, a horseman rode out as if to dispute the passage of an intruder.
The old foreman noticed the boyish figure and delayed the meeting,
reining in to critically examine cattle which he had branded some three
months before. With diligent intent, the greeting was kept pending, the
wayfarer riding away on a tangent and veering back on his general
course, until Dell's suspicion was aroused. The return of Priest was so
unexpected that the boy's eyes filled with tears, and the two rode
along until the grove was reached, when they dismounted.

"If I had known that you were coming," said Dell, "I could have made
coffee here. It was so lonesome at the ranch that I was spending the day
among the cattle."

"A cowman expects to miss his dinner occasionally," admitted Priest;
"that's why they all look so long and hungry. Where does that 7L
steer range?"

"The big mottled fellow?--Why, down near the corral," replied the boy,
repeating and answering the question.

"I want to look him over," simply said the old foreman.

The two remounted and continued down the valley. The noon hour had
brought the herd in for its daily water, and no animal was overlooked on
the homeward ride. The summer gloss had passed and the hairy, shaggy,
winter coats of the cattle almost hid the brands, while three to six
months' rest on a perfect range was reflected in the splendid condition
of the general herd.

"That's one feature of the winter intrenchments that needn't worry us,"
said Priest; "the cattle have the tallow to withstand any
ordinary winter."

"And the horses are all rolling fat," added Dell. "They range below the
ranch; and there isn't a cripple or sore back among them. There's the
mottled steer."

They were nearing the last contingent of cattle. Priest gave the
finished animal a single glance, and smiled. "Outsiders say," said he,
"that it's a maxim among us Texans never to eat your own beef. The adage
is worth transplanting. We'll beef him. The lines of intrenchment are
encouraging."

The latter remarks were not fully understood by Dell, but on the arrival
of the wagon that evening, and a short confidence between the brothers,
the horizon cleared. Aside from the salt and barrels, there were
sheepskin-lined coats and mittens, boots of heavy felting, flannels over
and under, as if the boys were being outfitted for a polar expedition.
"It may all come in handy," said a fatherly voice, "and a soldier out on
sen