ask him to-night or to-morrow. Thornton will be
back to-morrow. Then we'll be getting ready the wagons and our own kit."

"What wagons?"

"Did you no see the canvas-topped wagons in the barn? Verra like gipsy
wagons they are. We call them prairie schooners because they are the
sort of wagon the first settlers crossed the country in. Ships of the
Desert they were indeed! In the West we use them even now. When we go to
the range three of these wagons go along part way and carry the food,
establishing what we call central camps. From these camps provisions are
brought to us."

"Don't you come down for your food!" exclaimed Donald, aghast.

"Nay, nay! Never a bit! When we are off, we're off! We never turn back
until fall. Our food is sent to us on the range three times a week. A
camp-tender comes on horseback bringing supplies on a packhorse or on a
little Mexican burro. If we are not too far up in the hills this tender
fetches the food all the way; if we are, he leaves it in some spot
agreed upon and we go down and get it, leaving the flocks in care of the
dogs. The schooners stay near enough to the home ranch so they can go
back and forth now and then and get restocked. We ourselves take a few
pots and pans to the range--just enough so we can cook our meals. It is
like camping out anywhere else."

"I love camping!" cut in Donald.

"Then you'll like the range for certain."

"I know I shall. I hope I can go. What a lot I am learning, Sandy!
Pretty soon I shall know more about sheep-raising than father does!"

"Dinna fret yourself about your father," was Sandy's dry retort. "He
needs no pity. He can take care of himself."

Tom Thornton, however, did not seem to agree with Sandy's estimate of
his employer. The moment he was back from Glen City he sought out Mr.
Clark who, with Donald, was sitting before the fire in the barren
living-room.

"The clip is off for the East at last, Mr. Clark," he said. "It is
likely you will be following it soon yourself now that you have cast
your eye over the ranch and found it running all right. Have you come to
any decision as to who you'll appoint as manager?"

Thornton glanced keenly at the ranch owner as he put his question.

"I do not think I shall appoint any manager at present, Thornton,"
replied Mr. Clark slowly. "I am in no haste to return East. Donald and I
are enjoying our holiday here tremendously and for a while, at least, I
think I shall stay and manage Crescent Ran