ing still sounded in his ears, and he looked around and saw
two little red and green lights disappearing in the distance. And then
he understood that he must have sat down near the track of the
railroad, for those lights were on the end of a train, and the big
yellow light on the giant's head must have been the engine's headlight.

Well, the road followed the railway for a distance, and it couldn't be
such an awful way to the Star Circle Ranch. Should he go on, or should
he sleep some more? He might catch cold from the dew, but he could put
on his slicker, and--he was awfully tired.

He yawned, he nodded, he was sound asleep before he knew it.

CHAPTER XIII

A FOOL'S ERRAND

When Whitey arrived at the Star Circle Ranch, at about ten o'clock in
the morning, he was still a very tired boy. The Star Circle was a much
larger ranch than the T Up and Down, with a much smaller manager, for
Walt Lampson, who was also part owner of the place, was not much taller
than Whitey, and he was serious-looking, too--didn't look at all like
Cal Brayton.

After Whitey had delivered his letter to Walt Lampson and had eaten some
breakfast, which the cook had rustled for him, he began to tell Walt of
his adventures in coming from the T Up and Down, and he was surprised
when Walt roared with laughter. This attracted some of the cowpunchers,
and they roared, too. Whitey had to repeat the part about Felix going
home. It seemed strange to Whitey that Cal Brayton who looked so merry
should be so solemn, and Walt Lampson who looked so solemn should be so
merry.

After sleeping for about twelve hours at a stretch for three nights
Whitey might be said to be a trifle rested and able to look around and
take an interest in his surroundings. And he began to discover things
about the character of the men on the Star Circle Ranch. They were given
to loud laughter, but he noticed that most of this laughter was at the
misfortunes of others. And they were always playing jokes on one another
and cutting up tricks; but beneath this playfulness there seemed to be a
sort of fierceness--something like the ferocity that lurks beneath the
play of a tiger.

He had plenty of time for these reflections and feelings, as Walt
Lampson did not seem to be in a hurry about attending to Mr. Sherwood's
business, and Whitey caught Walt and the men looking at him in a
peculiar way, when they thought he was not noticing them. On the third
day after his arrival--a