oments till I change my clothes, I'll--I'll go with you right now."

This being consented to, he returned to the cabin, made the necessary
change, and stood before them a picture of health, bewhiskered and
bronzed like a pirate. As he was halfway to the vehicle, he turned
back, and taking the old black hands of Tiburcio in his own, said in
good Spanish, though there was a huskiness in his voice, "That lady
is my mother. I may never see you again. I don't think I will. You may
have for your own everything I leave."

There were tears in the old hunter's eyes as he relinquished young
Wells's hands and watched him fade from his sight. His mother, unable
to live longer without him, had made the trip from New York, and now
that she had him in her possession there was no escape. They took the
first stage out of the village that night on their return trip for New
York State.

But the mother's victory was short-lived and barren. Within three
years after the son's return, he failed in two business enterprises in
which his father started him. Nothing discouraged, his parents offered
him a third opportunity, it containing, however, a marriage condition.
But the voice of a siren, singing of flowery prairies and pecan groves
on the Salado, in which could be heard the music of hounds and the
clattering of horses' hoofs at full speed following, filled every
niche and corner of his heart, and he balked at the marriage offer.

When the son had passed his thirtieth year, his parents became
resigned and gave their consent to his return to Texas. Long before
parental consent was finally obtained, it was evident to his many
friends that the West had completely won him; and once the desire
of his heart was secured, the languid son beamed with energy in
outfitting for his return. He wrung the hands of old friends with a
new grip, and with boyish enthusiasm announced his early departure.

On the morning of leaving, quite a crowd of friends and relatives
gathered at the depot to see him off. But when a former college chum
attempted to remonstrate with him on the social sacrifice which he was
making, he turned to the group of friends, and smilingly said, "That's
all right. You are honest in thinking that New York is God's country.
But out there in Texas also is, for it is just as God made it. Why,
I'm going to start a cattle ranch as soon as I get there and go back
to nature. Don't pity me. Rather let me pity you, who think, act, and
look as