Why? I thought you knew enough--you punched cows for the Circle for
four or five years, didn't you? Nelson told me you were his top hand
while you stayed with him, and that you ran the outfit one whole summer,
when--"

"That ain't the point." A hot look had crept into Ford's face--a tinge
which was not a flush--and a glow into his eyes. "I know the
cow-business, far as that goes. It's me; you can't--why, Lordy me! You
ought to be sent to Sulphur Springs and get your think-tank hoed out.
Any man that will offer a foreman's job to a--a--"

"'A rooting, tooting, shooting, fighting son-of-a-gun, and a good one!'"
assisted Mason equably. "'The only original go-getter--' Sure. That's
all right."

The flush came slowly and darkened Ford's cheeks and brow and throat. He
threw his half-smoked cigarette savagely at the hearth of the rusty
box-stove, and scowled at the place where it fell. "Well, ain't that
reason enough?" he demanded harshly, after a minute.

Mason had been studying that flush. He nodded assent to some question he
had put to himself, and crowded tobacco into his pipe. "No reason at
all, one way or the other. I need a foreman--one I can depend on. I've
got to make a trip out to the Coast, this fall, and I've got to leave
somebody here I can trust."

Ford shot him a quick, questioning glance, and bit his lip. "That," he
said more calmly, "is just what I'm driving at. You can't trust me. You
can't depend on me, Ches."

"Oh, yes I can," Mason contradicted blandly. "It's just because I can
that I want you."

"You can't. You know damn' well you can't! Why, you--don't you know I've
got the name of being a drunkard, and a--a bad actor all around? I'm not
like I was eight years ago, remember. I've traveled a hard old trail
since we bucked the snow together, Ches--and it's been mostly down
grade. I was all right for awhile, and then I got ten thousand dollars,
and it seemed a lot of money. I bought a fellow out--he had a ranch and
a few head of horses--so he could take his wife back East to her mother.
She was sick. I didn't want the darned ranch. And so help me, Ches,
that's the only thing I've done in the last four years that I hadn't
ought to be ashamed of. The rest of the money I just simply blew.
I--well, you see me; you didn't want to take me up to the house to meet
your wife, and I don't blame you. You'd be a chump if you did. And this
is nothing out of the ordinary. I've got my face bunged up half the
time