was very much excited
at the prospect. He knew Staghurst well, and told me all about the big
stone house, and the avenue through the trees; and the hedge-row roads,
and the lawn with its peacocks, and the round green hills, and the
labourers' cottages.

"It's home," said he, "and I didn't realise before how much I wanted to
see it. And I'll be a man of weight there, Harry, and it'll be mighty
good."

We made all sorts of plans as to how I was going to visit him just as
soon as I could get together the money for the passage. He had the
delicacy not to offer to let me have it; and that clinched my trust and
love of him.

The next day he drove away with Tony and the dapper little lawyer. I
am not ashamed to say that I watched the buckboard until it disappeared
in the mirage.

I was with Buck Johnson all that summer, and the following winter, as
well. We had our first round-up, found the natural increase much in
excess of the loss by Indians, and extended our holdings up over the
Rock Creek country. We witnessed the start of many Indian campaigns,
participated in a few little brushes with the Chiricahuas, saw the
beginning of the cattle-rustling. A man had not much opportunity to
think of anything but what he had right on hand, but I found time for a
few speculations on Tim. I wondered how he looked now, and what he was
doing, and how in blazes he managed to get away with fifty thousand a
year.

And then one Sunday in June, while I was lying on my bunk, Tim pushed
open the door and walked in. I was young, but I'd seen a lot, and I
knew the expression of his face. So I laid low and said nothing.

In a minute the door opened again, and Buck Johnson himself came in.

"How do," said he; "I saw you ride up."

"How do you do," replied Tim.

"I know all about you," said Buck, without any preliminaries; "your
man, Case, has wrote me. I don't know your reasons, and I don't want
to know--it's none of my business--and I ain't goin' to tell you just
what kind of a damn fool I think you are--that's none of my business,
either. But I want you to understand without question how you stand on
the ranch."

"Quite good, sir," said Tim very quietly.

"When you were out here before I was glad to have you here as a sort of
guest. Then you were what I've heerd called a gentleman of leisure.
Now you're nothin' but a remittance man. Your money's nothin' to me,
but the principle of the thing is. The country is plumb pe