find it
no' sic' a fearful thing. But it is you and the children that worries me
now, Angus."

"Never mind us, father," the boy said. "I can look after Jean and
Turkey."

The stricken giant smiled at him with a quiet pride of which the
recollection years after warmed the boy's heart.

"I had hoped for twenty years of life yet, by which time you would have
been settled, with children of your own. Eh, well, the young birds must
fledge and fly alone, and your wings are well sprouted, Angus-lad. You
have in you the makings of a man, though yet headstrong and dour by
nature. And now listen, son, for my time is short: I look to you to
take the place I can no longer fill. You are the Mackay, the head of the
family. Remember that, and cease before your time to be a boy."

"I will, father," the boy promised.

"There is little or no money, worse luck," the man went on. "All I have
had I have put into land and timber, and the fire burnt the timber: But
in time the land will make you rich, though not yet awhile, maybe. But
till it does, the ranch will give you a living. Sell nothing now--not an
acre. Promise me, boy!"

"I promise, father," the boy replied.

"A promise to a dying father is an oath," the man went on. "But no
Mackay of our Mackays ever broke his word passed for good or ill.
Remember that, too. I have made a will, and all I have is left to you as
the eldest son. That has ever been our custom. When the time comes, and
they are older, deal generously with your sister and brother. That is
our custom, too. Of this will, the man Braden is named as executor. I
had intended--but it is too late now. He is a man of business and has
the name of an upright man. But if you need advice, son, go to Judge
Riley, drunkard and all as he is. But for that he should have been in
Braden's place. That is all, I think. I feel more content now." And he
closed his eyes with a sigh.

"I will remember, father," the boy said. "But who did this? Who shot
you?"

The eyes opened and searched his deeply for many seconds.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I ought to know," the boy replied.

"You want to know," his father said, "so that if the law should fail,
you would take the old law of the old days into your young hands. Is
that it, my son?"

"Yes," the boy admitted, "that is it. And why for no, father?"

For a moment the graying face of the dying man lighted with a swift
gleam of pride and satisfaction. Then he lifted his great han