nd glanced up.
Eleanor MacDonald was looking straight into his eyes. And the sheep
rancher's choppy voice was saying to the Missionary, "Some men go up in
the mountains to fish for trout; but others stay right down in the
Valley and grow rich catching suckers."

"We can't cross that gully," shouted the boy. "We, can't cross it
nohow! We got to cross the ranch trail to go up to them Rim Rocks."

"Why, all right, Fordie," the Senator rose, kicking the folds from the
knees of his trousers, "if you boss the job, Fordie, I'll let you cross
the ranch! You'll take a few of the herders up with you? And you'll
not let the sheep spread over the fields? Better do it towards evening
when it's cool for the climb! All right, we'll call that a bargain!
Fordie's on the job to pass the sheep up the trail; and just to show
you I'm fair, here is Miss Eleanor for my witness, you can drive the
whole bunch over my ranch! Good night, all! Everybody coming now?
Come on! We'll lead the way, Miss Eleanor. It's getting dark. I'll
pad the fall if anybody behind trips. Good night, Wayland; think that
offer of mine over? Not coming, Brydges? All right, give Wayland a
piece of your mind, as a newspaper man, about this business! Night!
Good night, Calamity!"

CHAPTER IV

STACKING THE CARDS

Bat straddled the slab and lighted his pipe.

"Old man been giving you some good advice?"

"I don't know whether you'd call it good or not. Let's heap the logs
on, Brydges, and make the shadows dance."

Brydges did some hard thinking and let the Ranger do the heaping.

"Sort of razzle-dazzler, MacDonald's daughter; she's a winner; but you
can't get at her! Sort of feel when she's talking to you as if her
other self was 'way down East. Wonder what the old curmudgeon brought
her back here for? If she'd let down her high airs a peg, she'd have
every fellow in the Valley on a string. She could have Moyese's scalp
now if she wanted it--all that's left of it?"

"You can bunk inside! I'll take the hammock." Wayland emerged from
the cabin trailing a gray blanket and a lynx skin robe. Bat continued
to emit smoke in puffs and curls and wreaths at the top of the trees.

"How many acres do you patrol, Dickie?"

"About a hundred-thousand."

"Is that all? How many horses does the Govment allow?"

"None! Buy our own!"

"Great Guns! And you're loyal to that kind of Service? It's bally
loyal I'd be! Why, Moyese allows me the use