when Ford broke it by demanding suddenly:

"What did you say your name was?"

"Bob Nichols."

"Where do you come from?"

"New York."

This answer caused the ranchman to sit up straight and again scrutinize
the boy's features, as he asked:

"Got any folks?"

"No, sir."

"Live alone in New York?"

"No, sir. With my guardian."

"What made you come out here?"

"I wanted to be a cowboy and make my fortune."

"Cow punching ain't a paved highway to riches."

"But you are rich, aren't you?"

At this leading question, the grizzled man of the plains scowled, a
suspicion of Bob's purpose in seeking a job with him flashing into his
mind as he replied:

"Mebbe I am and mebbe I ain't. What made you think I was?"

"Mr. Higgins and the other men said you were."

"Huh! them fellows had better mind their own business," grunted the
ranchman; but the ingenuous reply and the open honesty of the boy's face
banished his suspicions, and he continued his questioning.

The length to which the catechising extended amazed Bob, in view of what
he had been told and had read in regard to not asking questions, and he
made his replies as brief as possible, taking good care to give only the
most general information about himself.

Perceiving this, Ford finally asked:

"How much wages do you want?"

"I'll leave that to you, Mr. Ford. As I don't know anything about
ranching, I don't expect much and I'm willing to trust you to do what is
right."

This confidence in his squareness appealed more to the ranchman than
anything else Bob could have said or done.

Leading the life of a recluse as he did and assuming a manner of
forbidding austerity when forced to meet his fellows, the man had been
endowed by them with a reputation for close--if not sharp--dealing, and
this trust in him evinced by the boy moved him deeply, and with a voice
in which there was a half sob, he returned:

"You won't lose by leaving the matter of wages to me, boy. Don't you
worry about that, no matter what Ned Higgins or his cronies tell you."

"I shall not discuss my affairs with outsiders," replied Bob with
seriousness that brought a smile to the plainsman's face.

"Good! Now, let's get down to business. Can you ride?"

"No. But I can learn."

"You'll have to. A man on a ranch who can't ride is about as useless as
a rifle without cartridges. Let's see, you'll need a safe pony to learn
on. I guess I'll let you try old Sox. He never was mean and he