hat had happened to Douglas after he
left Idaho. When he first reached the East it was indeed a rude
awakening from his dreams of city life; living was expensive, and work
hard to find. Chance had borne him to the Monitor Mills where, because
of his knowledge of wool, he had succeeded in getting a job at sorting
fleeces. He had worked hard and patiently, and Mr. Bailey, who was quick
to appreciate faithfulness, had promoted him until he had won the
position of head bookkeeper. These years of vigorous work had, however,
left their mark on one unaccustomed to long hours and little fresh air.
In his heart the boy sighed for the hills--he wanted to be back again in
the Western country which he so foolishly had insisted upon leaving. He
became tired and thin, and the men for whom he worked were unselfish
enough to see that unless he got back to the open ranges and to the
sunlight he would soon be too ill to go.

And now the chance had come--it was almost unbelievable!

"I cannot realize that I am really to join Sandy," exclaimed the
Scotchman over and over. "It is almost too much good luck. As a lad I
was so eager to get away from the range that I would never have dreamed
the time could come when I would be pining to return there. I have had
my taste of the East! I would have gone back long ago had they not been
so good to me here."

"But why didn't you write to Sandy, Douglas?" inquired Donald.

"Well, you see, although my father let me leave Crescent Ranch it
disappointed him not a little to have me do so. Sandy thought, since my
father felt that way, that I ought not to go, and we had words about it.
I was very angry with Sandy at the time, but I see now that he was
right. I wish I had stayed with my father. Then when I began to be
homesick here and it all turned out just as Sandy had said I was ashamed
to write. Even now I am almost afraid Sandy will not want to see me."

"Indeed he will!" cried Donald. "Why, often he talked about you when we
were on the range together, and wished he might see you. My father has
wired him already and he can hardly wait to get you back to Idaho."

"If only my father were there!" said Douglas sadly. "I shall never
forgive myself that I came East and left him. I wish I had the chance to
live over again and I would do differently."

"If we did not learn wisdom by what we do there would be no use in
living, Douglas," Mr. Clark put in kindly. "At least you are going West
to Sandy--going