different that these very virtues could hardly be classified in the
same categories. Truth was sacred, but lying was one thing and
horse-swapping another, and if a man was "white to the back" what more
would you ask, even though at poker he could clean you out of your
whole outfit? Hitherto, a man who paid no respect to the decencies of
religion Shock had regarded as "a heathen man and a publican," but with
Ike religion, with all its great credos, with all its customs, had
simply no bearing. Shock had not talked long with Ike until he began to
feel that he must readjust not only his whole system of theology, but
even his moral standards, and he began to wonder how the few sermons
and addresses he had garnered from his ministry in the city wards would
do for Ike and his people. He was making the discovery that climate
changes the complexion, not only of men, but of habits of thought and
action.

As Shock was finding his way to new adjustments and new standards he
was incidentally finding his way into a new feeling of brotherhood as
well. The lines of cleavage which had hitherto determined his interests
and affinities were being obliterated. The fictitious and accidental
were fading out under this new atmosphere, and the great lines of sheer
humanity were coming to stand out with startling clearness. Up to this
time creed and class had largely determined both his interest and his
responsibility, but now, apart from class and creed, men became
interesting, and for men he began to feel responsibility. He realised
as never before that a man was the great asset of the universe--not his
clothes, material, social or religious.

It was this new feeling of interest and responsibility that made him
ask, "Who was that lad that rode the winning horse to-day?"

"That chap?" replied Ike. "He's my boss. The Kid, they call him."

Men of laconic speech say much by tone and gesture, and often by
silence. In Ike's tone Shock read contempt, admiration, pity.

"A rancher?" he enquired.

"Well, he's got a ranch, and horses and cattle on it, like the rest of
'em. But ranchin'--" Ike's silence was more than sufficient.

"Well," said Shock, with admiring emphasis, "he seems to be able to
ride, anyway."

"Ride! I should surmise! Ride! That kid could ride anythin' from a
he-goat to a rampagin', highpottopotamus. Why, look here!" Ike waged
enthusiastic. "He's been two years in this country, and he's got us all
licked good and quiet. Why, h