bawling steers.

Every new sight of a snaky slim cowpuncher on a racy horse intensified
this impression in Pan's mind, stamped the future more vividly on his
heart. It was what he had been born to.

One by one pioneers came in their covered wagons to this promising
range and took up homesteads of one hundred and sixty acres each. Some
of these men, like Pan's father, had to work part of the time away from
home, to earn much-needed money.

Jim Blake, the latest of these incoming settlers, had chosen a site
down in a deep swale that Pan always crossed when he went to visit his
uncle. It was a pretty place, with grass and cottonwoods, and a thin
stream of water, a lonesome and hidden spot which other homesteaders
had passed by.

Pan met Jim one day and rode with him. He was a young man, pleasant
and jolly, a farmer and would-be rancher, without any of the signs of
cowboy about him. Pan thought this a great detriment, but he managed
to like Jim and loftily acquainted him with his achievements on Curly.

One day Pan saw Jim's wife, a pretty blonde girl, strong and healthy
and rosy cheeked. Her sleeves were rolled up showing round bare arms.
Her smile won Pan, yet he was too shy to go in and take the cookies she
offered.

Autumn days came, dull and gray, with cold wind sweeping the plain, and
threatening clouds lodging against the mountain peaks. Another winter
was coming. Pan hated the thought. Snow, ice, piercing winds would
prevent him from riding Curly. With this fact pressing closer he rode
as much as his mother would let him and some more besides.

His father and mother wanted him to go with them to the settlement one
Saturday. They were taking the wagon in for winter supplies. Pan's
yearning for adventure almost persuaded him, but he preferred to stay
with Curly. His mother demurred, but his father said he might remain
at home.

"Pan, you can ride over to Uncle George's with some things. But be
careful not to get caught in a storm."

Thus it came about that Pan found himself alone for the first time in
his life, master of himself, free to act as he chose. And he did not
choose to go at once to Uncle George's. His uncle was nice, but did
not accord Pan the freedom that he craved. So what with one and
another of his important cowboy tasks the hours flew and it was late
before he got started across the prairie toward his uncle's homestead.

Pan never needed an excuse to ride fast, but now he