ds that tried to turn the
ranges into posy beds and wheat fields," he chuckled. "They got all that
was coming to them--believe me!"

Frances laughed. "Daddy is still unconverted. He does not believe that
the Panhandle is fit for anything but cattle. But he's going to let me
have two hundred acres to plow and sow to wheat--he's promised."

The Captain grunted again.

"And last year we grew a hundred acres of milo maize and feterita.
Helped on the winter feed--didn't it, Daddy?" and she laughed.

"Got me there, Frances--got me there," admitted the old ranchman. "But I
don't hope to live long enough to see the Bar-T raising more wheat than
steers."

"No. It's stock-raising we want to follow, I believe," said the girl,
calmly. "We must raise feed for our steers, fatten them in fenced
pastures, and ship them more quickly."

"My goodness!" exclaimed Pratt, admiringly, "you talk as though you
understood all about it, Miss Frances."

"I think I _do_ know something about the new conditions that face
us ranchers of the Panhandle," the girl said, quietly. "And why
shouldn't I? I have been hearing it talked about, and thinking of it
myself, ever since I can remember."

Secretly Pratt thought she must have given her attention to something
beside the ranch work and cattle-raising. Of this he was assured when
they went inside later, and Frances sat down to the piano. The
instrument was in a big room with a bare, polished floor. It was
evidently used for dancing. There was a talking machine as well as a
piano. The girl played the latter very nicely indeed. There were a few
scratches on the floor of the room, and she saw Pratt looking at them.

"I told Ratty M'Gill he shouldn't come in here with the rest of the boys
to dance if he didn't take his spurs off," she said. "We have an
old-time hoe-down for the boys pretty nearly every week, when we're not
too rushed on the ranch. It keeps 'em better contented and away from the
towns on pay-days."

"Are the cowpunchers just the same as they used to be?" asked Pratt. "Do
they go to town and blow it wide open on pay-nights?"

"Not much. We have a good sheriff. But it wasn't so long ago that your
fancy little city of Amarillo was nothing but a cattleman's town. I'm
going to have a representation of old Amarillo in our pageant--you'll
see. It will be true to life, too, for some of the very people who take
part in our play lived in Amarillo at the time when the sight of a high
hat wo