time to think about it--years, perhaps.
You are only fourteen. There will be many an idea popping in and out of
your head between now and the time you are twenty. Just stow the thought
away; take it out sometimes, turn it over, and put it back again."

"I will, father."

"And now, just for a moment, let us suppose you really are twenty and
are helping me with the ranch. The first thing we should be doing now
would be trying to make up our minds about this new manager."

"Yes, I suppose we should."

"What should you say about that?"

"I wouldn't appoint Thornton, father!"

His father smiled at the instant decision.

"You must not be so positive in condemning Thornton, Don. We must be
careful that we are right before we turn him down. To have the care of
Crescent Ranch is a responsible position. We want a faithful
man--somebody we can trust when we are in the East; somebody who will
run the ranch exactly as if we were here."

"Thornton wouldn't!"

"That is what I am trying to find out," Mr. Clark said.

"Have you anybody in mind, father--anybody beside Thornton?"

Mr. Clark fingered his watch-chain.

"I am watching my men, Don. It is the little things a man does rather
than the big things that tell others what he is. Remember that. Watch
the little things."

"I didn't know you were watching anybody at all," avowed Donald. "You
did not seem to be doing much but wander round and have a good time."

"I am glad of that," answered his father.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER V

THORNTON HAS A REPRIMAND

Donald had now been long enough at the ranch so that he had discovered a
number of ways in which he could be of use. Most of his efforts, to be
sure, were confined to aiding Sandy; but as Sandy had almost more work
than he could do he greatly appreciated the boy's help. Donald carried
meal to the feeding-troughs, fed the dogs, ran errands, and carried
messages from one pasture to another. He was not a little proud when one
day Sandy bestowed on him the title of first assistant. To think of
being the assistant of Sandy McCulloch! Donald's heart bounded! Of
course he got tired. The days were long and the work was real. It was,
however, good wholesome work in the open air--work that made his muscles
ache at first and then grow steadily stronger.

One evening after he had put in an unusually active day and was sitting
in the lamplight with his father Sandy came to the door of the room and
asked:

"Might I