ry case. Without knowing it, he allowed himself
to work his ranch much as if he was still working his mine. The
old-time spirit of '49, hap-hazard, unscientific, persisted in his mind.
Everything was a gamble--who took the greatest chances was most apt to
be the greatest winner. The idea of manuring Los Muertos, of husbanding
his great resources, he would have scouted as niggardly, Hebraic,
ungenerous.

Magnus climbed into the buggy, helping himself with Harran's
outstretched hand which he still held. The two were immensely fond
of each other, proud of each other. They were constantly together and
Magnus kept no secrets from his favourite son.

"Well, boy."

"Well, Governor."

"I am very pleased you came yourself, Harran. I feared that you might be
too busy and send Phelps. It was thoughtful."

Harran was about to reply, but at that moment Magnus caught sight of the
three flat cars loaded with bright-painted farming machines which still
remained on the siding above the station. He laid his hands on the reins
and Harran checked the team.

"Harran," observed Magnus, fixing the machinery with a judicial frown,
"Harran, those look singularly like our ploughs. Drive over, boy."

The train had by this time gone on its way and Harran brought the team
up to the siding.

"Ah, I was right," said the Governor. "'Magnus Derrick, Los Muertos,
Bonneville, from Ditson & Co., Rochester.' These are ours, boy."

Harran breathed a sigh of relief.

"At last," he answered, "and just in time, too. We'll have rain before
the week is out. I think, now that I am here, I will telephone Phelps to
send the wagon right down for these. I started blue-stoning to-day."

Magnus nodded a grave approval.

"That was shrewd, boy. As to the rain, I think you are well informed; we
will have an early season. The ploughs have arrived at a happy moment."

"It means money to us, Governor," remarked Harran.

But as he turned the horses to allow his father to get into the buggy
again, the two were surprised to hear a thick, throaty voice wishing
them good-morning, and turning about were aware of S. Behrman, who had
come up while they were examining the ploughs. Harran's eyes flashed
on the instant and through his nostrils he drew a sharp, quick breath,
while a certain rigour of carriage stiffened the set of Magnus Derrick's
shoulders and back. Magnus had not yet got into the buggy, but stood
with the team between him and S. Behrman, eyeing him c