"None of your pin-head two-by-four shysters that you see here in the
East," exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "I mean some folks, of course," he
explained in some confusion.

"And the children, did they like it?" inquired Mrs. Gwynne.

"You bet they did. Why, they was all over the hull prairie, all day and
all night, too, mostly--on ponies you know."

"Ponies!" exclaimed Larry. "Did they have ponies? Could they ride? How
big are they?"

"How big? Blamed if I know. Let's see. There's Tom. He's just about a
man, or thinks he is. He's sixteen or seventeen. Just now he's in the
high school at Winnipeg. He don't like it though." Here a shadow fell on
Mr. Sleighter's face. "And the girls--there's Hazel, she's fifteen,
and Ethel Mary, she's eleven or somewhere thereabouts. I never can keep
track of them. They keep againin' on me all the time."

"Yes," said Mrs. Gwynne. "It is hard to realise that they are growing up
and will soon be away from us."

"That's so," said Mr. Sleighter.

"And the schools," continued Mrs. Gwynne, "are there good schools?"

"Schools?" exclaimed Mr. Sleighter. "There's a real good school not more
than a couple of miles away."

"Two miles," exclaimed the mother aghast.

"Oh, that's nothin'. They ride, of course. But we ain't got much of a
master now. He's rather--you know." Mr. Sleighter significantly tipped
up with his little finger and winked toward Mr. Gwynne.

"But you love that country," she said.

"Yes, I love it and I hated to leave it. But the missis never liked
it. She was city born and bred. She wanted the lights, I guess, and the
shows. I don't blame her, though," he continued rapidly. "It's kind of
lonely for women, you know. They've got to have amusements and things.
But it's God's own country, believe me, and I would go back to-morrow,
if I could."

"You still own your ranch?"

"Yes; can't sell easily. You see there's not much broke on it--only a
hundred acres or so."

"Why, how big is the ranch?"

"Five hundred acres and a wood lot. I did not farm much, though--mostly
cattle and horses. I was away a good deal on the trail."

"The trail?"

"Yes, buying cattle and selling again. That was the worst of it. I am
not much of a farmer, though farming's all right there, and I was away
almost all of the time. I guess that made it pretty hard for the missis
and the kids."

At this point the Widow Martin came in to lay the table for tea. Mr.
Sleighter took the hint and rose to go.