e heavy cattle down to the railroad.
Dell drove the wagon, Sargent was intrusted with the remuda, the two
others grazing the beeves, while each took his turn in standing guard at
night. Water was plentiful, cars were in waiting, and on reaching the
railroad, the cattle were corralled in the shipping pens.

Joel and Manly accompanied the shipment to Kansas City. The beeves were
consigned to the firm mentioned in the bill of sale as factor in
marketing and settlement of the herd which had recently passed from the
possession of Mr. Stoddard to that of Wells Brothers. The two cars of
cattle found a ready sale, the weights revealing a surprise, attracting
the attention of packers and salesmen to the quality of beef from the
Beaver valley.

"Give me the cattle from the short-grass country," said a salesman to a
packer, as Wells Brothers' beeves were crossing the weighing scale. "You
and I needn't worry about the question of range--the buffalo knew. Catch
the weights of these cattle and compare it with range beef from the
sedge-grass and mountain country. Tallow tells its own story--the
buffalo knew the best range."

An acquaintance with the commission house was established on a mutual
basis. The senior member of the firm, a practical old man, detained Joel
and Manly in his private office for an hour.

"This market is alert to every new section having cattle to ship," said
the old man to Joel, studying a sales statement. "The Solomon River
country sent in some cattle last fall, but yours is the first shipment
from the Beaver. Our salesman reports your consignment the fattest
range beeves on to-day's market. And these weights confirm the
statement. I don't understand it. What kind of a country have you
out there?"

Joel gave Manly an appealing look. "It's the plains," answered the
latter. "It's an old buffalo range. You can see their skulls by the
thousand. It's a big country; it just swells, and dips, and rolls away."

It was the basis of a range which interested the senior member. "The
grasses, the grasses?" he repeated. "What are your native grasses?"

"Oh, just plain, every-day buffalo grass," answered Manly. "Of course,
here and there, in the bends of the Beaver, there's a little blue-stem,
enough for winter forage for the saddle stock. The cattle won't
touch it."

The last of many subjects discussed was the existing contract, of which
the commission firm was the intermediary factor. The details were gone
over ca