ye. Ye can sleep on the decision, for I've no wish
that ye should choose hastily and be sorry after."

Buddy--grown to Bud--lifted a booted foot and laid it across his other
knee and with his forefinger absently whirled the long-pointed rower on
his spur. The hardness at his lips somehow spread to his eyes, that were
bent on the whirring rower. It was the look that had come into the face
of the baby down on the Staked Plains when Ezra called and called after
he had been answered twice; the look that had held firm the lips of the
boy who had lain very flat on his stomach in the roof of the dugout and
had watched the Utes burning the cabin.

"There's no need to sleep on it," he said after a minute. "You've raised
me, and spent some money on me--but I've saved you a man's wages ever
since I was ten. If you think I've evened things up, all right. If you
don't, make out your bill and I'll pay it when I can. There's no reason
why you should give me anything I haven't earned, just because you're my
father. You earned all you've got, and I guess I can do the same. As you
say, I'm a man. I'll go at the future man fashion. And," he added with a
slight flare of the nostrils, "I'll start in the morning."

"And is it to make tunes for other folks to play?" Bob Birnie asked after
a silence, covertly eyeing him.

"No, sir. There's more money in cattle. I'll make my stake in the
cow-country, same as you've done." He looked up and grinned a little.
"To the devil with your money and your she-stock! I'll get out all
right--but I'll make my own way."

"You're a stubborn fool, Robert. The Scotch now and then shows itself
like that in a man. I got my start from my father and I'm not ashamed of
it. A thousand pounds--and I brought it to America and to Texas, and got
cattle."

Bud laughed and got up, hiding how the talk had struck deep into the
soul of him. "Then I'll go you one better, dad. I'll get my own start."

"You'll be back home in six months, lad, saying you've changed your
mind," Bob Birnie predicted sharply, stung by the tone of young Bud.
"That," he added grimly, "or for a full belly and a clean bed to crawl
into."

Bud stood licking the cigarette he had rolled to hide an unaccountable
trembling of his fingers. "When I come back I'll be in a position to buy
you out! I'll borrow Skate and Maverick, if you don't mind, till I get
located somewhere." He paused while he lighted the cigarette. "It's the
custom," He reminded his