natural. I had peculiar ideas myself."

"Yes," suggested Norman, "he makes a great deal out of things that are
old stories to us. If we didn't live here and know the West as well as we
do, I suppose we would have the same romantic ideas."

Mr. Zept was just making his departure, but at this he paused.

"What do you mean?" he asked suddenly and with some concern in his voice.

"Oh, you know he's determined to see the real wilderness," laughed Roy.
"He wants to get a taste of the life the story books describe. I told him
it might not be such an appetizing meal but I imagine he's set on it."

"So I believe," answered Mr. Zept, "although it isn't what I had planned
for him.

"By the way," he added quickly, "you young men know how little there is
in indulging this longing for wilderness adventure. I hope if you have a
chance you won't fail to impress upon Paul the facts as we know them. I
want him to live at home now, with his mother and me. I'm afraid he's
been too long away from us."

That evening the two young men could not resist the temptation to visit
the downtown district where the hotels were crowded with visitors and the
city was resplendent with unusual activity. Norman left Roy with some
friends at the King George Hotel and went home at an early hour. When Roy
called at Norman's house the next morning, on his way to the Stampede
Grounds, he spoke of some new information he had picked up the night
before.

"I found out last night," he began at once, "that everything isn't as
sunshiny in the Zept home as it might be. Our new friend, the Count, I
was told by some friends, got a pretty early start in the fast life of
Paris. Mr. Zept wants Paul to stay at home a while, as I get it, to make
some changes in him if he can."

"What do you mean?" asked Norman. "But I can guess it--it's in his face.
And it isn't cigarettes either."

"Right," answered Roy. "We call it booze out here, but in the young man's
circle in Paris I reckon it wouldn't be worse than wine. Anyway, they
say, young as he is, that's one of his pleasures. He doesn't look to me
as if drinking had ever bothered him much but, from what I hear, he's
come to the point where his father thinks he's got to stop it if it's
ever going to be stopped. He's only been in town a few days and they say
he rides like a States' Indian. But this hasn't taken all his time. He's
already in with the fast set here and you know, in a pinch there's people
in Calgary who