knows
he needs you, boy."

"Yes--I'll make it--up," replied Pan, trying to swallow his emotion.
"Tell me."

"Wal, I wish I had better news to tell," replied Smith, gravely shaking
his head. "Your dad's had tough luck. He lost his ranch in Texas, as
I reckon you know, an' he follered--the man who'd done him out here to
try to make him square up. Bill only got a worse deal. Then he got
started again pretty good an' lost out because of a dry year. Now he's
workin' in Carter's Wagon Shop. He's a first-rate carpenter. But his
wages are small, an' he can't never get no where. He's talked some of
wild-hoss wranglin'. But thet takes an outfit, which he ain't got.
I'll give you a hunch, son. If you can stake your dad to an outfit an'
throw in with him you might give him another start."

Pan had on his tongue an enthusiastic reply to that, but the entrance
of the curious Matthews halted him.

"Thank you, Mr. Smith," he said, eagerly. "Where'll I find Carter's
Wagon Shop?"

"Other end of town. Right down Main Street. You can't miss it."

Pan hurried out, and through the door he heard Matthews' loud voice:

"Carter's Wagon Shop! ... By thunder, I've got the hunch! That cowboy
is Panhandle Smith!"

Pan smiled grimly to himself, as he passed on out of hearing. The name
and fame that had meant so little to him back on the prairie ranges
might stand him in good stead out here west of the Rockies. He strode
swiftly, his thought reverting to his father. He wanted to run.
Remorse knocked at his heart. Desertion! He had gone off, like so
many cowboys, forgetting home, father, mother, duty. They had
suffered. Never a word of it had come to him.

The way appeared long, and the line of stone houses and board shacks,
never ending. At last he reached the outskirts of Marco and espied the
building and sign he was so eagerly seeking. Resounding hammer strokes
came from the shop. Outward coolness, an achievement habitual with him
when excitement mounted to a certain stage, came with effort and he
paused a moment to gaze at the sweeping country, green and purple,
dotted by gray rocks, rising to hills gold with autumn colors. His
long journey was at an end. In a moment more anxiety would be a thing
of the past. Let him only see his father actually in the flesh!

Pan entered the shop. It was open, like any other wagon shop with wood
scattered about, shavings everywhere, a long bench laden with tools, a
forge