ed, as he sprang up and ran to
the edge of the rimrock to wave a good-bye to Luigi, who was
disappearing round a curve of the trail.

"The lad is happy as a king here on the range, Sandy," Mr. Clark
remarked.

"He takes to it as if he had been bred on the hills, sir."

"I wish he might like the work well enough to go into the business with
me some time."

"There is no telling. He is but young yet. When he is old as I, mayhap
he may choose to settle down and be a wool-grower."

"How old are you, Sandy?"

"I should be near thirty, sir, I'm thinking, though I haven't always had
a birthday cake out here on the hills," was the whimsical reply.

"Thirty! A rare age for such a level head as yours!"

"I dinna ken about the head, Mr. Clark. My father used to say it was the
heart that counted most. Now what say you to a basin of hot lentil
soup?" inquired the Scotchman, changing the subject. "You and Donald
must be hungry."

"I believe we are. Let us go down to the tent. I see Donald there
already, building the fire."

After having eaten a hearty meal they left the flock which was resting
or grazing near by in charge of the dogs, and Mr. Clark, Donald, and the
men turned in to snatch a few hours' sleep in anticipation of the long
watch before them.

It was deep twilight when they awoke.

Sandy shook Donald by the shoulder.

"We must be up and away, laddie," he said, as the boy turned drowsily.
"It's a man's work--real work you're doing here; you are no playing
sheep-raiser. Rouse your father, snatch a bit of bread, and come and
help me set the watch-fires. See, the Mexicans are already ahead of us."

With quick step he was off.

"Dinna forget your rifle," he called as he went.

Donald was on his feet.

"Father," he shouted, "Sandy says we must be starting out."

Mr. Clark sat up.

"I promised to obey Sandy, sure enough," he yawned, "and I like him all
the better for routing me out, sleepy though I am. I will be with you in
a moment. Where is Sandy?"

"Setting watch-fires along the outer edge of the pasture. He says to
bring your rifle."

A little later and they had overtaken the Scotchman, who was striding
along through the darkness, swinging his lantern.

"It is here I'll station you, Mr. Clark," said Sandy simply. "Patrol
this border as far as the bonfire; then turn backward and go until you
meet Bernardo. Donald will pace between the next two fires, and the
Mexicans and myself will complete the ci