omorrow. And I've a notion I can find a better
trail across to North Fork than the way we came. I'm going to strike
out this afternoon and see, anyway, if Quitter Creek hasn't got water
farther up. Once we get up north uh the home ranch, I can see my way
clear."

"Go to it, boss," Pink cried heartily. "I don't see how I'm goin t'
keep from sassing yuh, once in a while, though. That's what bothers me.
What'll happen if I turn loose on yuh, some time?"

"You'll get fired, I expect," laughed Rowdy, and rode off to announce
the news to the rest of the outfit, who were very unhappy in their
mystification.

If their reception of the change of plans and foreman was a bit profane,
and their manner toward him a bit familiar, Rowdy didn't mind. He knew
that they did not grudge him his good luck, even while they hated
the long drive. He also knew that they watched him furtively; for
nothing--not even misfortune--is as sure a test of a man's character
as success. They liked Rowdy, and they did not believe this would spoil
him; still, every man of them was secretly a bit anxious.

On the trail, he rode in his accustomed place, and, so far as
appearances went, the party had no foreman. He went forward and helped
Pink take down the fence that had been so carefully put up a few hours
before, and he whistled while he put it in place again, just as if
he had no responsibility in the world. Then the cattle were left to
themselves, and the men rode down to their old campground, marked by
empty tin-cans and a trodden place where had been the horse corral.

Rowdy swung down and faced the men gravely. Instinctively they stood at
attention, waiting for what he had to say; they felt that the situation
was so far out of the ordinary that a few remarks pertaining to their
new relations would not be out of place.

He looked them over appraisingly, and met glances as grave as his own.
Straight, capable fellows they were, every man of them.

"Boys," he began impressively, "you all know that from to-day on you're
working under my orders. I never was boss of anything but the cayuse I
happened to have under me, and I'm going to extract all the honey there
is in the situation. Maybe I'll never be boss again--but at present I'm
it. I want you fellows to remember that important fact, and treat me
with proper respect. From now on you can call me Mr. Vaughan; 'Rowdy'
doesn't go, except on a legal holiday.

"Furthermore, I'm not going to get out at