tions have not been altogether favorable to the
experiment. It should be easy from now on."

During the time that intervened before the trial of the Tailholt
Mountain man, Phil and Patches re-established that intimate friendship
of those first months of their work together. Then came the evening when
Phil went across the meadow to ask Jim Reid for his daughter.

The big cattleman looked at his young neighbor with frowning
disapproval.

"It won't do, Phil," he said at last. "I'm Kitty's father, and it's up
to me to look out for her interests. You know how I've educated her for
something better than this life. She may think now that she is willin'
to throw it all away, but I know better. The time would come when she
would be miserable. It's got to be somethin' more than a common
cow-puncher for Kitty, Phil, and that's the truth."

The cowboy did not argue. "Do I understand that your only objection is
based upon the business in which I am engaged?" he asked coolly.

Jim laughed. "The _business_ in which you are engaged? Why, boy, you
sound like a first national bank. If you had any business of your
own--if you was the owner of an outfit, an' could give Kitty
the--well--the things her education has taught her to need, it would be
different. I know you're a fine man, all right, but you're only a poor
cow-puncher just the same. I'm speakin' for your own good, Phil, as well
as for Kitty's," he added, with an effort at kindliness.

"Then, if I had a good business, it would be different?"

"Yes, son, it would sure make all the difference in the world."

"Thank you," said the cowboy quietly, as he handed Mr. Reid a very legal
looking envelope. "I happen to be half owner of this ranch and outfit.
With my own property, it makes a fairly good start for a man of my age.
My partner, Mr. Lawrence Knight, leaves the active management wholly in
my hands; and he has abundant capital to increase our holdings and
enlarge our operations just as fast as we can handle the business."

The big man looked from the papers to the lad, then back to the papers.
Then a broad smile lighted his heavy face, as he said, "I give it
up--you win. You young fellers are too swift for me. I've been wantin'
to retire anyway." He raised his voice and called, "Kitty--oh, Kitty!"

The girl appeared in the doorway.

"Come and get him," said Reid. "I guess he's yours."

Helen Manning was sitting on the front porch of that little cottage on
the mountain s