initial commit of ebook 24858HEADmain

253 files changed, 14676 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/24858-8.txt b/24858-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42e6e76
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4820 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Story of Wool
+
+Author: Sara Ware Bassett
+
+Illustrator: Elizabeth Otis
+
+Release Date: March 17, 2008 [EBook #24858]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "HAVE OUR SHEEP ALWAYS BEEN DIPPED?"]
+
+The Story of Wool
+
+BY
+
+SARA WARE BASSETT
+
+Author of "The Story of Lumber" and
+"The Story of Leather"
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY
+ELIZABETH OTIS
+
+THE PENN PUBLISHING
+COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
+
+
+COPYRIGHT
+1913 BY
+THE PENN
+PUBLISHING
+COMPANY
+
+
+                      _To
+                    MY FATHER_
+
+
+    _It gives me pleasure to acknowledge the
+    courtesy and coöperation of the United
+    States Department of Agriculture._
+
+                                    _S. W. B._
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+       I. A Mysterious Telegram                               9
+
+      II. Who Sandy Was                                      27
+
+     III. The Dipping                                        36
+
+      IV. Sandy Gives Donald a Lesson                        56
+
+       V. Thornton Has a Reprimand                           70
+
+      VI. Donald's First Adventure On the Range              82
+
+     VII. A Narrow Escape                                   103
+
+    VIII. Donald Has a Surprise                             122
+
+      IX. A Second Adventure                                136
+
+       X. A Prediction That Came True                       152
+
+      XI. The Shearing                                      165
+
+     XII. Home to the East                                  183
+
+    XIII. Donald Decides                                    204
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF WOOL
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A MYSTERIOUS TELEGRAM
+
+
+Donald Clark glanced up from his Latin grammar and watched his father as
+he tore open the envelope of a telegram and ran his eye over its
+contents. Evidently the message was puzzling. Again Mr. Clark read it.
+Donald wondered what it could be. All the afternoon the yellow envelope
+had been on the table, and more than once his mind had wandered from the
+lessons he was preparing to speculate on the possible tidings wrapped
+up in that sealed packet. Not that a telegram was an unheard-of event in
+the family. No, his father received many; most of them, however, went to
+the Boston office, and the boy could not imagine what this one was doing
+at their Cambridge home.
+
+The moment his father entered the house Donald handed him the envelope
+and Mr. Clark quickly stripped it open; yet even though it now lay
+spread out before him the mystery it contained appeared to be unsolved.
+It was seldom that Donald asked questions, nevertheless he found himself
+wondering and wondering what it was that had brought that odd little
+wrinkle into his father's forehead. Donald understood that wrinkle; he
+had seen it many times and knew it never came unless some question arose
+to which it was difficult to frame an answer. As his father and he had
+lived alone together ever since he could remember they had grown to know
+each other very well, and had become the best of friends. It therefore
+followed that when one worried, both worried.
+
+As the boy looked on, his father glanced up suddenly and caught sight
+of the anxiety mirrored in his face. The man smiled kindly.
+
+"I can find no answer to this riddle, Don," he said. "Listen! Perhaps
+you can help me. A few days ago I received word from Crescent Ranch that
+Johnson, our manager, had been thrown from his horse while out on the
+range and so badly hurt that he will never again be able to continue his
+work with us. They have taken him to the hospital at Glen City. The
+letter came from Tom Thornton, the head herder at the ranch. Thornton
+assured me that everything was going well, and that there was not the
+slightest need for me to come to Idaho."
+
+Donald listened.
+
+"Well, to-day I received this telegram. It is neither from Johnson nor
+Thornton. It reads:
+
+"'You would do well to visit Crescent Ranch,' and it is signed--'Sandy
+McCulloch.'"
+
+"Who is Sandy McCulloch?" asked Donald.
+
+"That's the puzzle! I do not know. I never heard of any such person in
+my life--not that I remember. Evidently, though, he knows enough about
+me to know that I own that sheep ranch, and to think that I ought to go
+out there and see it. I do not understand it at all. What do you make of
+it, son?"
+
+Donald thought carefully.
+
+"Do you suppose anything is wrong on the ranch?"
+
+"No, indeed! Thornton wrote particularly that everything was all right.
+He was Johnson's assistant, and he ought to know. Besides, he has been
+with us a long time, and is thoroughly familiar with every part of the
+work."
+
+"Maybe it's a joke," ventured Donald.
+
+"It would be a stupid sort of joke to get me from Boston to Idaho on a
+wild-goose chase. No, there is no joke about this," went on Mr. Clark,
+rising and pacing the floor. "Sandy McCulloch is real, and he has some
+real reason for wanting me to go to Crescent Ranch. I think I shall take
+his advice and go."
+
+Donald was astounded. His father never left home.
+
+"And the office?"
+
+"Uncle Harold will have to do double duty while I am gone."
+
+"And--and--I?" inquired the boy hesitatingly.
+
+Idaho seemed very far away--quite at the other end of the world.
+
+"You? Oh, you'll have to go along too! I shall need you."
+
+Donald drew a long breath.
+
+"Let me see," continued his father, "this is the end of March, isn't it?
+Your spring term is about over. I happen to know you are well up in your
+work, for I met Mr. Hurlbert, the high school principal, only yesterday.
+I am sure that if you fall behind by going on this trip you will study
+all the harder to make up the work when you get back, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir!" was the emphatic promise.
+
+"You see I've no idea how long I shall be detained out West, therefore I
+have no mind to leave you here. You might be ill. Besides, I should miss
+you, Don."
+
+"I'd much rather go with you, father."
+
+A quick light of pleasure flashed in the father's eyes.
+
+"Then that's settled," he exclaimed decisively. "Now I'll tell you what I
+mean to do. I am not going to wire Crescent Ranch that we are coming.
+Instead we will drop down and surprise them. It won't take long to see
+how things are running, and even if it proves that everything is all
+right I shall not begrudge the trip, for I have felt for some time that
+I ought to go. Clark & Sons have owned that ranch for thirty years, and
+yet I have never been near it. It certainly is time I went."
+
+"How did it happen you never did go, father?"
+
+"Well, during your grandfather's life an old Scotchman managed the ranch
+and attended to shipping the wool. As we had nothing to do but to sell
+it, we did not bother much about the place, for we had perfect
+confidence in Old Angus, the manager. After your grandfather died, Uncle
+Harold and I had all we could do to attend to the business here. It grew
+so rapidly that it was about as much as two young fellows like ourselves
+could handle. We always meant to go out--one of us--but we never did.
+Then our faithful Scotchman died. We felt lost, I can tell you! He had
+had all the management of Crescent for twenty years and was one of the
+finest men in the world. He might have lived until now, perhaps, had he
+not been caught on the range in a blizzard while struggling to get a
+flock of sheep out of the storm and thereby lost his life."
+
+Mr. Clark paused a moment.
+
+"After him came Johnson. He has done his work well, so far as we know;
+but now he is out of the running too and we shall have to get some one
+else."
+
+"Whom are you going to get?"
+
+"I haven't the most remote idea. You see, Don, I know next to nothing
+about managing a ranch. I stay here in Boston and simply sell wool. This
+end of the business I know thoroughly, but the other end is Greek to
+me."
+
+Donald laughed. He was just beginning Greek.
+
+"I am glad you don't know about a ranch, father," he exclaimed.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Oh, because you seem to know almost everything else, and it is fun to
+find something you don't know."
+
+There was admiration in the boy's words.
+
+His father shook his head and there was a shadow of sadness in his smile
+as he replied:
+
+"I know very little, Donald boy. The older I grow the less I know, too.
+You will feel that way when you are my age. Now here is a chance for us
+to learn something together. Let's go to Idaho and find out all we can
+about sheep-raising."
+
+Within the next few days the plans for the journey were completed.
+
+As one article after another was purchased and packed the trip unfolded
+into a most alluring pilgrimage. They must take their riding togs, for
+Uncle Harold reminded them that they would probably be in the saddle
+much of the time; their camping kit must go also; above all they must
+carry good revolvers and rifles. Donald's heart beat high. He and his
+father had always ridden a great deal together; it was their favorite
+sport. Now they were to have whole days of it. And added to this
+pleasure was the crowning glory of both a rifle and a revolver!
+
+All this fairy-land of the future had come about through Sandy
+McCulloch!
+
+Who was this wonderful Sandy? And why had he telegraphed?
+
+Sandy McCulloch! The very name breathed a charm. Donald repeated it to
+himself constantly. He dreamed dreams and wove adventures about this
+mysterious Scotchman. He knew he should like Sandy. Who could help it?
+His name was enough.
+
+In the meantime the days of preparation flew by. Donald's spring
+examinations were passed with honors--a fact which his father declared
+proved that he had taken his work in earnest and that he deserved an
+outing. Mr. Clark laughingly ventured the hope that he should be able to
+leave his business affairs in equally good condition.
+
+"You have set quite a pace for me, Don! I am not sure whether I can take
+honors at the office or not. I have done the best I could, however, to
+put things into Uncle Harold's hands so to cause him as little trouble
+as possible."
+
+Donald tried not to become impatient while these arrangements were being
+made.
+
+At last dawned that clear April morning when the East was left behind
+and the journey to the West--that unknown land--was begun. Donald had
+never been West. The vastness of the country, the newness of the scenery
+surprised and delighted him. Geography had never seemed so real before.
+No longer were the various states pink, green, or purple splotches on
+the map; they were real living places with people, sunshine, and fresh
+air.
+
+"I had no idea America was so big!" he gasped to his father.
+
+"It's the finest country in the world, Don! Be proud and thankful that
+you are an American. No other land does so much for her people. Be
+humble, too. Never let a chance go by to do your part in helping the
+country that does so much for you."
+
+They were standing in the glassed-in rear of the train, and as Mr.
+Clark spoke he pointed to vast tracts of forest land that sped past
+them.
+
+"I am afraid I can't do anything for a great country like this, father,"
+said Donald, a little quiver in his voice.
+
+"There is one thing we can all do--that is be good citizens. Every law
+we have was made for the good of our people. In so far as you keep these
+laws you will be aiding in building up a more perfect America. Bear your
+share in that work--do not be a hindrance, Don."
+
+"I'll try, father," was the boy's grave reply.
+
+To help in the progress of such a land as this! More than once Donald
+thought of his father's words as the train threaded its way along the
+banks of mighty rivers, rolled through great woodlands, or skirted
+cities which throbbed with the life of mighty industries.
+
+And all this vast-reaching land was his country--his!
+
+On every hand there were wonders!
+
+As the express thundered along he poured out question after question.
+
+Why did people go way to Idaho to raise sheep? Why didn't his father
+raise his sheep in the East? Certainly there was room enough, plenty of
+room, that was much nearer than Idaho. How did sheep get into the
+mountains of Idaho anyway?
+
+Mr. Clark ducked his head under the torrent of queries.
+
+"You will drown me with questions!" he exclaimed laughing. "Well, I
+shall do my best to answer you. New Mexico was the first sheep center in
+our country. Herds were originally brought from Spain, and these flocks
+worked their way up from Mexico through New Mexico and California; here
+the hills supplied the coolness necessary to animals with such thick
+coats, and furnished them at the same time with plentiful grass for
+food. During the day the herds grazed, and at night they were driven
+into corrals of cedar built by the shepherds. These sheep were mostly
+Merinos, a variety raised in Spain. Afterward, in 1853, a man named
+William W. Hollister brought three hundred ewes across our continent to
+the West. Think what a journey it must have been!"
+
+"Wasn't the railroad built?"
+
+"No. Neither were there any bridges. There were rivers to swim and
+mountains to climb; furthermore there was many a search for water-holes,
+because Mr. Hollister was not well enough acquainted with the country to
+know where to find water for himself and the herd."
+
+"I should not think a sheep would have lived through such a journey!"
+cried Donald.
+
+"Many of them did, however," answered his father, "and that is how our
+western sheep-raising industry began. Now it is one of the great
+occupations of our land, and soon you and I are to know more about it."
+
+"And about Sandy McCulloch, too, I hope," put in the boy.
+
+"I hope so; only remember--not a word of that telegram to any one at the
+ranch. We shall get into Glen City this noon if our train is on time and
+we must trust to luck in getting to Crescent Ranch. It is fifteen miles
+from the station, up in the foot-hills of the Rockies."
+
+"The--the--you don't mean the Rocky Mountains!" gasped Donald, his eyes
+very wide open.
+
+"Certainly. Have you forgotten your geography?"
+
+"Of course I know that a spur of the Rocky Mountains does run diagonally
+across Idaho; but somehow I never thought of really being in the Rocky
+Mountains!"
+
+Mr. Clark enjoyed the outburst.
+
+"To be where there are bears and bob-cats and----"
+
+"Maybe, after all, you would rather have stayed at home and finished out
+your school year."
+
+"I rather guess not!" was the lad's emphatic reply.
+
+So impatient was he to see the marvels of this magic land that the last
+few hours of the journey seemed unending.
+
+But they did end.
+
+Toward noon the heavy train pulled into Glen City and they bundled out
+on to the platform. They were the only passengers, but there was a
+great deal of freight--boxes, barrels, and cases of provisions. As they
+stood hesitating as to what they had better do a tall, bony young fellow
+approached the station agent and called with a decided suggestion of the
+Highlander in his accent:
+
+"I dinna see those kegs of lime for Crescent Ranch, Mitchell."
+
+"They're here. You will find them at the end of the platform. Come, and
+I'll help you pile them on your wagon."
+
+Mr. Clark turned to the Scotchman.
+
+"Are you going to Crescent Ranch?"
+
+"Aye, I be, sir."
+
+"Can you take my son and me along?"
+
+The Scotchman studied him carefully.
+
+"Have you business at the ranch?" he asked, looking keenly into the eyes
+of the speaker.
+
+Mr. Clark met his gaze good-naturedly.
+
+"We might possibly have," he answered. "At any rate we want to go up
+there. My name is Clark and I come from Boston."
+
+"Clark, did you say, sir?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The stolid stare of the Scotchman did not waver.
+
+"Mayhap you're the owner, sir."
+
+"Yes, I am."
+
+A gleam of something very like satisfaction passed over the tanned
+features of the young man. Then his face settled back into its wonted
+calmness.
+
+"It's welcome you are, sir," he said heartily. "I dinna think there'll
+be trouble about taking you and your son to Crescent."
+
+He wheeled and led the way to a wagon, where he piled up some sacks of
+grain for his guests to sit upon. Then he lifted in their luggage and
+the freight for which he had come, and gathered the lines over the backs
+of his horses.
+
+As the wagon toiled up the long, low hills Mr. Clark began asking
+questions about the ranch--he asked many questions concerning the
+country and the flocks. To all of these he received terse answers.
+
+Presently the Scotchman turned.
+
+"It's little you be knowin' of sheepin', sir."
+
+The remark was made with so much simplicity that it could not have been
+mistaken for rudeness.
+
+"Very little."
+
+"Keep it to yourself, man," was the laconic advice the Highlander tossed
+over his shoulder as he transferred his attention to his horses.
+
+Mr. Clark bit his lip to hide a smile.
+
+"What is your name, my lad?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Sandy McCulloch, sir," was the quiet answer.
+
+Donald waited, listening eagerly to every turn of the conversation that
+followed, but to his astonishment neither his father nor Sandy McCulloch
+spoke one word regarding the mysterious telegram.
+
+It was nightfall when the wagon that had brought them turned into a
+muddy drive and stopped before a bare looking house situated in a
+meadow, and surrounded by a number of vast barns and sheep-pens. Out of
+this house came a broad-shouldered, bronzed man who stood on the steps,
+waiting their approach. He wore trousers of sheepskin, a soiled flannel
+shirt, and round his neck--knotted in the back--was a red handkerchief.
+Donald noticed that into his belt of Mexican leather was tucked a
+revolver. He stared at the strangers inquiringly.
+
+Mr. Clark jumped out as soon as the wagon stopped, and extended his
+hand.
+
+"I do not know your name," he said pleasantly, "but mine is Clark. My
+son Donald and I have come from Boston to see the ranch."
+
+The man sprang forward.
+
+"I'm Tom Thornton, sir. What a pleasure to have a visit from you! Such
+an unexpected visit, too."
+
+He slapped Mr. Clark heartily on the shoulder and took Donald's hand in
+a tight grip.
+
+But though he talked loudly, and laughed a great deal while carrying in
+their luggage, for some reason Donald felt certain that really Tom
+Thornton was not glad to see them at all.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+WHO SANDY WAS
+
+
+The next morning both Donald and his father were astir early.
+
+There was nothing to keep them within the great chilly house, and
+everything to lure them into the sunshine. The sky was without a cloud,
+and into its blueness stretched distant ranges of hazy mountains at
+whose feet nestled lower hills covered with faint green. Near at hand
+patches of meadow were toned to grayish white by grazing bands of sheep.
+On the still air came the flat, metallic note of herd-bells, and the
+bleating of numberless unseen flocks within the pens and barns.
+
+What a novel scene it was!
+
+The newcomers found their way to a sheltered corner where they could
+look out before them into the vastness.
+
+It was all so strange, so interesting!
+
+Somewhere in the ravine below they could catch the rushing music of a
+stream which wove itself in and out a maze of rolling hills and was lost
+at last in the shadows of the green valleys.
+
+As they stood silent and drank in the beauty about them, an angry voice
+broke the stillness.
+
+It came from the interior of the barn near which they were standing.
+
+"I tell you what, Tom Thornton, I'm with Sandy McCulloch. The sheep
+always were washed after shearing in Old Angus's day, and in Johnson's
+as well. That is how Crescent Ranch came to have the good name it now
+holds. There were no scabby sheep here to infect the rest of the herd."
+
+"What's that to you, Jack Owen? You are here to mind the boss, ain't
+you? What's the use of our working like beavers for ten days to dip the
+flock if we don't have to? Dipping is a dirty, tiresome job. You are not
+in for making work for yourself, are you?"
+
+"The flocks will be ruined!"
+
+"What do you care--they are not your sheep."
+
+"Well, I have been on this ranch a long time, Thornton, and I can't help
+caring what becomes of 'em. I take the same pride in the place Sandy
+does. We have won a reputation here for doing things the way they ought
+to be done--for minding the laws--for having clean, healthy stock. Sandy
+says he shall dip his herd, anyway."
+
+"Bother Sandy! He's talked to you men until he's got you all upset. You
+would have been with me if he had kept his mouth shut. But no matter
+what he says I am running this ranch at present. I mean to run it in the
+future, too. If you're wise you will do as I tell you."
+
+"Mr. Clark may have something to say about the dipping."
+
+"Don't you fret," sneered Thornton. "I sounded him last night. He's a
+tenderfoot. I don't believe he knows a thing about sheeping."
+
+Mr. Clark drew Donald into the sun-flooded field before he spoke.
+
+Then, after a thoughtful silence he turned:
+
+"Well, Don?"
+
+"I wouldn't have that Thornton here another day, father!" broke out the
+boy hotly.
+
+"Slowly, son, slowly! We must be sure about Thornton before we condemn
+him. He has been ten years on the ranch; more than that, we are without
+a manager, and we have none in view. Remember 'he stumbles who runs
+fast.' Take time, Don, take time."
+
+Donald flushed.
+
+"I know it is the best way, but I was so angry to hear him talking that
+way about you."
+
+"Loyalty is a fine trait, Don." Mr. Clark laid his hand affectionately
+on his son's shoulder. "I like to see you loyal. But in this matter we
+must move slowly."
+
+"What about this dipping, father? What is it?"
+
+"Something about washing the sheep. I do not clearly understand it
+myself."
+
+"Shall you have it done?"
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"Of course I do not know anything about it," Donald replied modestly,
+"but somehow I feel as if Sandy and the men are right."
+
+"I think so too."
+
+"Couldn't I ask Sandy what it is, father?"
+
+"I am thinking of asking him myself, Don, if I get a good chance."
+
+The chance came unexpectedly, for at that very moment Sandy McCulloch
+came out of one of the sheep-pens and crossed the walk to the central
+barn.
+
+"What are you up to to-day, Sandy?" called Mr. Clark.
+
+"I am going to dip my flock, sir, down in the south meadow."
+
+"I am glad of that, for it will give us a chance to see it done,"
+observed Mr. Clark. Then lowering his voice he asked: "Why do you dip
+the sheep, Sandy?"
+
+"Are you asking because you want to know?" inquired Sandy with the
+directness which characterized everything he said.
+
+"Yes, Both Donald and I wish to learn."
+
+"Well, sir, it is this way. After the shearing is over and the fleece
+removed, the coat of the sheep is light and therefore easily dried. We
+then take the flocks and run them through a bath of lime and sulphur.
+Some shepherds prefer a coal-tar dip. Whatever the dip is made of, the
+purpose is the same. It is to kill the parasites on the sheep and cure
+any diseases of the eyes. If sheep are not dipped they get the 'scab.'
+Some bit of a creature gets under their skin and burrows until it makes
+the sheep sick. Often, too, the wool will peel off in great patches. One
+sheep will take it from another, until by and by the whole herd is
+infected."
+
+Mr. Clark nodded.
+
+"I never mean to let a sickly sheep go on the range," continued Sandy.
+"I try to flax round and find out what is the matter with him so I can
+cure him. We don't want our herd spoiling the feeding grounds and the
+water-holes and giving their diseases to all the flocks that graze after
+them. If we are let graze on the range the least we can do is to be
+decent about it--that's the way I look at it."
+
+"Have our sheep always been dipped?"
+
+"Aye, sir, that they have--dipped every spring after shearing; then we
+clipped their feet before they started for the range. Sheep, you know,
+walk on two toes, and if their feet are not trimmed they get sore from
+traveling so much. I suppose nature intended sheep to climb over the
+rocks and wear their hoofs down that way. They have a queer foot. Did
+you know that there is a little oily gland between the toes to make the
+hoof moist, and keep it from cracking?"
+
+"No, I guess neither Donald nor I knew that, did we, Donald? Now about
+this dipping--do you thoroughly understand how it is done, Sandy?"
+
+"I do that, sir."
+
+Donald wondered why his father was so thoughtful.
+
+"How long have you been at Crescent Ranch, Sandy?" asked Mr. Clark at
+last.
+
+"Ever since I was a lad of fifteen, sir."
+
+"That must be about ten years!"
+
+"Fourteen."
+
+A new thought came to Mr. Clark.
+
+"Why, then you must have known Old Angus," he exclaimed.
+
+"I did, sir."
+
+"He was a fine old man, they tell me."
+
+"He was."
+
+"I never saw him--I wish I had. It was a great loss to the ranch and to
+all of us when he went."
+
+"It was indeed."
+
+"You must remember him well, Sandy."
+
+Throwing back his head with a gesture of pride, Sandy confronted Mr.
+Clark.
+
+"I do, sir," he replied simply. "He was my father."
+
+Mr. Clark and Donald stared.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?" cried Donald's father,
+stepping forward eagerly and seizing the hand of the young ranchman.
+
+"I thought mayhap you knew it. If not--why prate about it? It's on my
+own feet I must stand and not on my father's. If I am of any use you
+will find it out fast enough, father or no father; if I'm not 'twere
+best you found that out as well."
+
+"Independent as your forebears, Sandy!" laughed Mr. Clark.
+
+"I be a McCulloch, sir!" was all Sandy said.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DIPPING
+
+
+It was a great surprise to Tom Thornton when Mr. Clark informed him that
+he wanted the men to start in dipping the sheep as soon as they could
+get ready.
+
+"I suppose, Thornton, you have everything in readiness for the work,"
+continued the owner casually.
+
+Thornton did not hesitate.
+
+"Yes, indeed, sir. We can start right in to-day if you wish. It is for
+you to say. But really, Mr. Clark, the flock hardly needs it. Our sheep
+are in prime condition."
+
+"That's all the more reason for keeping them so, Thornton," was the
+smiling reply.
+
+"Of course that is true, sir. Very well. We will go ahead. I think I
+shall have time to give the orders, although I have got to be in Glen
+City about ten days shipping the clip."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Shipping the wool, sir."
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"I can start the work before I go."
+
+"I don't think you need bother, Thornton," remarked Mr. Clark slowly.
+"You go on down to Glen City and finish up your business there."
+
+"But somebody must see to the dipping if you really want it done."
+
+"I'll attend to it."
+
+"You!"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Why--why--nothing, sir. I beg your pardon. Only I thought you might be
+too tired after your trip."
+
+"Oh, no. I am not tired at all."
+
+Thornton eyed him.
+
+Even Donald was astonished.
+
+Mr. Clark did not seem to be at all disturbed by the embarrassing
+stillness, but went on shaving down a stick he was whittling.
+
+"I do not mean to manage the dipping myself," he explained at last. "I
+shall let Sandy McCulloch take charge of it."
+
+"Sandy McCulloch! Why, sir, that boy could never do it in the world! He
+is a good lad--well enough in his way--but not very smart. Not at all
+like his father."
+
+"Well, if he has no ability I shall soon find it out. I mean to try him,
+anyway."
+
+"Oh, you can try him if you like, but I know the fellow better than you
+do. You are foolish to turn any big work over to him. He can't handle
+it."
+
+"I intend to give him the chance."
+
+Thornton's annoyance began to get beyond his control.
+
+"Very well. It is not my business," he snapped as he left the room.
+
+The instant he was gone Donald, who could not keep silent another
+moment, cried:
+
+"Oh, father! I am so glad you are going to let Sandy manage the
+dipping!"
+
+"It is an experiment, Don. Sandy is young and he may make a mess of
+things--not because he does not mean well, but because he lacks
+experience. He has been here a long time, to be sure, but he never has
+taken any care beyond watching his own flocks."
+
+"I do not think he will fail. The men will all help him. They like him."
+
+"I can see that."
+
+"And I like him too, father."
+
+"So do I, son. I am trusting him with this work not only because I like
+him but because I feel sure that the son of such a father cannot go far
+astray. It was a great surprise to me when I found Sandy was the son of
+Old Angus. You see we all thought so much of the old Scotchman that he
+was Old Angus to everybody. I had almost forgotten he had another name.
+I don't think I ever heard any one call him Angus McCulloch in my life.
+And yet I remember the name now, for I can recall seeing it written out
+on checks and letters."
+
+"It is a fine name," Donald declared.
+
+"Sandy comes of good stock. I want to help him all I can. If he has the
+right stuff in him perhaps we can give him a lift. I wish we might, for
+I feel we owe his father more than we ever can repay."
+
+It was great news to Sandy when he learned that not only was he to dip
+his own flock, but that into his hands was to be put the dipping of the
+entire herd.
+
+"I'm no so sure I can manage it, Mr. Clark," he said modestly, lapsing,
+as he often did, into his broad Scotch. "I'll do the best I can though,
+sir."
+
+"I am sure you will."
+
+And Sandy did do his best!
+
+The hot dip, with the proper proportions of lime and sulphur, was
+prepared, and Sandy tested its temperature by seeing if he could bear
+his hand in it. Then the long cement troughs were filled. These troughs
+were just wide enough so the sheep were not able to turn. Groups of
+sheep that had been driven from the larger enclosures to the small pens
+near the dipping troughs were then hurried, one by one, to the men
+standing at the head of the troughs; it was the duty of these men to
+push each sheep in turn down the smooth metal incline into the dip. The
+sheep slipped in easily. As they swam along through the steaming bath
+other men were posted midway and when a sheep passed they thrust the
+head twice under water with their crooks so that the eyes and heads--as
+well as the bodies--might be cleansed. At the far end of the troughs
+still other herders helped the bedraggled creatures out onto a draining
+platform where they dripped for a time and were afterward driven back
+into their pens.
+
+"I shouldn't think the sheep would ever dry!" Donald remarked to Sandy
+as they watched the process.
+
+"Oh, they do; only it takes a couple of days--and sometimes more before
+their wool is thoroughly dry," answered the Scotchman.
+
+Donald looked on, fascinated.
+
+The work proceeded without a hitch.
+
+The sheep were fed into the troughs, hurried on and away, only to give
+place to others. Whenever the dip cooled a fresh, hot supply was added.
+Within an hour Donald counted a hundred sheep swim their way through the
+one trough near which he chanced to be standing.
+
+Sandy McCulloch was everywhere at once--now here, now there, giving
+orders. Gladly the herders obeyed him. They all liked Sandy, not only
+for his own sake but for the sake of Old Angus, his father, under whom
+most of them had worked in years past.
+
+"Sandy's a fine lad!" Donald heard one of the herders say.
+
+"There's not a better on Crescent Ranch!" was the prompt reply from a
+grizzled old Mexican who was ducking the heads of the herd that sped
+past him.
+
+"He wouldn't make a bad boss of the ranch," murmured another in an
+undertone.
+
+[Illustration: "HE WOULDN'T MAKE A BAD BOSS"]
+
+Sandy did not hear them. He was too intent on his work. He went about it
+simply, yet with his whole soul. Day after day his cheery voice could
+be heard:
+
+"Your dip is cooling, Bernardo! Warm it up a bit. Dinna you know you'll
+have your labor for your pains unless the stuff is hot as the sheep can
+bear it? Hurry your flock ahead there, José. Think you we want to be
+dipping sheep the rest of the season? If those ewes have drained off
+enough let the dogs drive them back to the pens. They'll rub their sides
+up against the boards and cleanse the pen as well as themselves. Now
+bring out the new herd that came last week from Kansas City. You'll find
+them in pens seventeen and eighteen. We kept them by themselves so they
+would scatter no disease through the flock. After they are dipped they
+can be put with the others."
+
+The men took all he said good-naturedly. Sandy used no unnecessary
+words, but what he did say was crisp and to the point, and the herders
+liked it. They liked, too, to watch his face when his lips parted and
+his glistening white teeth gleamed between them. Sandy had a very
+contagious smile. He worked tirelessly, and ever as he moved about among
+the sheep two great Scotch collies tagged at his heels. Busy as he was
+he often bent down to pat one of the shaggy heads, and was rewarded by
+having the beautiful dogs thrust their long noses into his hand or rub
+up against his knees. It was amusing to Donald to watch these dogs dash
+after the sheep and drive them into the pens. Sometimes they leaped on
+the backs of the herd and ran the entire length of the line until they
+reached the ones at the front. They then proceeded to bite the necks of
+these leaders until they turned them in the desired direction. This
+done, the collies would run back and by nipping the heels of the sheep
+at the rear they would compel them to follow where they wished to have
+them go.
+
+Donald had never seen anything like it.
+
+During the time that the dipping process continued he did not lack for
+entertainment, you may be sure.
+
+"You'll soon have nothing more to do, Sandy," the boy said one night
+when he and the Scotchman were sitting in the twilight on the steps of
+the big barn.
+
+"How's that, laddie?"
+
+"Why, the dipping will be over to-morrow, won't it?"
+
+"Yes; but that is only the beginning of trouble. We shall then put the
+herd out in the wet grass a while and soften their hoofs so they can be
+trimmed before the flocks start for the range. Then the bells must be
+put on, and the bands of sheep made up for the herders."
+
+"What do you mean by making up the herd?"
+
+"I'll try to tell you. Sheep, you must know, are the queerest creatures
+under the blue of heaven. It ain't in the power of man to understand
+them. Some minutes they are doing as you'd likely think they would; the
+next thing you know they are all stampeding off by themselves, and try
+as you will you cannot stop 'em. They dinna seem sometimes to have a bit
+of brains."
+
+Donald laughed.
+
+"Aye! You may well laugh, sitting here, but it's no so funny when they
+go chasing after the leaders and jumping over the face of some cliff.
+Think of seeing a hundred of 'em piled up dead at your feet!"
+
+"Did such a thing as that really ever happen, Sandy?" questioned Donald
+incredulously.
+
+"It did so. Didn't bears get after a flock on one of the ranges and
+didn't the whole lot of scared creatures start running? If they had but
+waited either the dogs or the herders might have driven off the bears.
+But no! Nothing would do but they must run--and run they did. One after
+another they leaped over the edge of the rimrock until most of the flock
+was destroyed. Folks named the place 'Pile-Up Chasm.' It was a sorry
+loss to the owner."
+
+"But I don't see why----"
+
+"No, nor anybody else," interrupted Sandy. "That's the sort of thing
+they do. When they are frightened they never make a sound--they just
+run. If nobody heads them off they are like to run to their death; and
+when anybody does head them off it must be done carefully or the front
+ones will wheel about and pile up on all those coming toward them. Lots
+of sheep are killed in this way. They trample each other to death. Why,
+once a man down in Glen City was driving a big flock along when around a
+turn in the road came a motor-truck. The sheep got scared and the front
+ones whisked straight about. That started others. Soon there was a grand
+mix-up--sheep all panic-stricken and tramping over each other. The owner
+lost half his herd. Now you see why we have to have leaders."
+
+"Leaders?"
+
+"Yes. That is one part of making up the herds. We must put some sheep
+that are wiser than the rest in every flock that they may lead the
+stupid ones. I dinna ken where they'd be if we didn't. We take as
+leaders sheep that are 'flock-wise'--by that I mean old ewes or wethers
+that have long been in the herds and know the ways. Sometimes, also, we
+put in a goat or two, for a goat has the wit to find water and food for
+himself. Not so the sheep! Never a bit! You have to lead sheep clean up
+to grass and to water as well. They can never find anything for
+themselves."
+
+"Do they know anything at all, Sandy?" queried Donald, laughing.
+
+"They do so. In some ways they are canny enough. They will scent a
+storm, and when one is coming never a peg will they stir to graze. They
+give a queer cry, too, when they find water--a cry to tell the others in
+the flock; and if the water is brackish or tainted they make a different
+sound as if to warn the herd. Sheep are very fussy about what they
+drink. It's a strange lot they are, sure enough!"
+
+"I shouldn't think they would know enough to follow their leaders even
+if they had any," remarked Donald.
+
+"Well, you see there is a sort of instinct born in 'em to tag after each
+other. Besides, they learn to follow by playing games. Yes, indeed,"
+protested Sandy, as Donald seemed to doubt his words, "sheep are very
+fond of games. There are a number of different ones that they play. The
+one they seem to like best is 'Follow the Leader.' I don't know as you
+ever played it, but when I was a lad I did."
+
+"Of course I have played it. We used to do it at recess."
+
+"Well, the sheep like it as well as you, and it is a lucky thing, for it
+teaches them one of the very things we want them to learn. They will
+often start out, one old sheep at the head, and all the others will fall
+into line and do just what that sheep at the front does. So they learn
+the trick of keeping their eyes on a few that are wiser than they, and
+doing what the knowing ones do. They seem to have no minds of their
+own--they just trail after their leaders. If we can get leaders that are
+able to see what we want done it is a great help."
+
+"I should think so!"
+
+"When we have selected our leaders we then scatter markers through each
+band of sheep."
+
+"And what are markers, Sandy?"
+
+"For a marker you must take a black-faced sheep--or, mayhap, one with a
+crumpled horn; he must have something queer about him so you will know
+him right off when he is mixed in with the flock. We put these markers
+at the beginning of every hundred sheep. It makes it easier to keep
+track of the herd."
+
+"I'm sorry to be so stupid, Sandy," Donald said, "but I don't think I
+just understand about the markers."
+
+"We have two thousand sheep in a band," explained the herder kindly.
+"Now if one of our markers is missing we reckon that a hundred sheep are
+gone. No one sheep ever strays off by himself, you may be sure of that.
+When sheep stray they stray in bunches. If a marker wanders off you can
+safely figure that a lot of those around him have gone too. Roughly
+speaking we call it a hundred."
+
+"But when you have such big bands of sheep and they are moving about I
+should not think the markers would be in the same place twice,"
+persisted Donald, determined to fathom this puzzling problem.
+
+"You dinna ken sheep, laddie! They are as jealous to keep their rightful
+place in the flock as school children are to get the first place in the
+line. They will fight and fight if another takes the position that
+belongs to them. It is a silly idea, but an aid to the herders."
+
+"And so the leaders and these markers really help the shepherds to
+manage the flock?"
+
+"Aye. But you're leaving out the shepherd's best helper."
+
+Sandy's face suddenly softened into tenderness.
+
+"His best helper?" repeated Donald.
+
+"Aye, laddie! His dogs!"
+
+Bending down the Scotchman thrust his hand into the ruff of shaggy hair
+about the neck of one of the collies beside him. There was a low growl
+from the other dog, who rose and rested his pointed nose on Sandy's
+knee.
+
+The man laughed.
+
+"Robin," he said, addressing the collie before him, "must you always
+take it amiss if I have a word for Prince Charlie? You're no gentleman!
+Down, both of you!"
+
+The collies crouched at his feet.
+
+"I never can speak to one without speaking to the other," he went on.
+"They are jealous as magpies."
+
+"They are the finest dogs I ever saw, Sandy."
+
+"I pride myself there are not many like them," agreed the herder. "I
+raised them from puppies and trained them myself. Now Colin, who also
+goes with me when I go to the hills, is a good dog, but he is not my
+own. He belongs to the ranch. So do Victor and Hector. You never feel
+the same toward them as you do with those you have brought up yourself.
+Robin and Prince Charlie are not to be matched in the county. But to see
+them at their best you must see 'em on the range."
+
+"I wish I could!"
+
+"So it's to the range you'd be going, is it? Well, well--belike when the
+herds are made up and we set out your father will let you go up into the
+hills a piece with me."
+
+"Oh, Sandy," cried the boy, "would you take me? Do you suppose father
+would let me go?"
+
+"'Twill do no harm to ask him. I must wait, though, until I see the
+other herders off, and until Thornton is back from Glen City. The
+flocks must have a few days' rest after the dipping. Poor things! It is
+a sorry time they have being dipped in that hot bath just after they
+have lost their thick, warm coats; it makes them more chilly than ever.
+Then, too, they sometimes get small cuts while they are being sheared
+and the lime and sulphur makes the bruises smart. I am always sorry for
+the beasties. Yet after all I comfort myself with thinking that it is
+better they should be wretched for a little while than to be sick for a
+long while. It is like sitting in a dark room when you have the
+measles--you do not like it but you know you will be worse off if you
+don't do it."
+
+Sandy laughed and so did Donald.
+
+"Then it will be several days before you start for the range, Sandy."
+
+"Yes. I must wait for Thornton. I can't leave your father here alone. He
+might want me."
+
+"You have been a great help to my father, Sandy."
+
+"It's little enough I've done. I would do a good sight more if the need
+came. A McCulloch would do anything in his power for Crescent Ranch or
+its owners."
+
+"I believe you, Sandy."
+
+"You do well to believe me, lad, for I speak the living truth!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SANDY GIVES DONALD A LESSON
+
+
+During the next few days preparations for the range went steadily
+forward.
+
+Most of the herders had been so long at Crescent Ranch that they knew
+exactly what to do. It was an ancient story to men who had worked under
+Old Angus and Johnson.
+
+To Donald, however, everything was new. From morning to night he trotted
+after Sandy until one day the young Scotchman remarked with a
+mischievous smile:
+
+"You put me verra much in mind of one of my collies--I declare if you
+don't!"
+
+The boy chuckled.
+
+"It is all so different from anything I ever saw before, Sandy. I am
+finding out so many things! Why, until yesterday I thought sheep were
+just sheep--all of them the same kind. Father mentioned Merinos, and I
+supposed they were all Merinos."
+
+"Well! Well! And so you have found out that they are not all the same
+kind? How many kinds have you learned about, pray?"
+
+Donald took Sandy's banter in good part.
+
+"You needn't laugh, Sandy," he said. "Lots and lots of our sheep are
+Merinos, aren't they?"
+
+"Aye, laddie. Merinos are a good sheep for wool-growing. They are no so
+bonny--having a wrinkled skin and wool on their faces; they are small,
+too. But their coat is fine and long, and they are kindly. The American
+Merinos are the best range sheep we have, because they are so hardy and
+stay together so well. Some sheep scatter. It seems to be in their blood
+to wander about. Of course you can't take sheep like that on the range.
+They would be all over the state."
+
+"I should think it would be a great bother to cut the wool from a Merino
+when he is so wrinkly," suggested Donald thoughtfully.
+
+"You show your wit--it is a bother. It takes much longer to clip them
+than it does a smooth-skinned sheep. Besides, their fleece is heavy, for
+it contains a great deal of oil--or as we call it, yolk. But have done
+with Merinos. What others did you learn about?"
+
+"One of the herders told me about the Delaine Merinos and showed me the
+long parallel fibers in their wool; he also pointed out a French Merino,
+or--or--a----"
+
+"Rambouillet!" laughed Sandy. "I was waiting to hear you twist your
+tongue around that word. It took me full a week to learn to say it, and
+even now I never say it in a hurry. We have many a French Merino here;
+they belong, though, to quite a different family from the other Merinos.
+You will find them a much larger sheep, and their wool coarse fibered.
+They are great eaters, these French Merinos."
+
+"Like me!" cried Donald.
+
+"Verra like you!" agreed Sandy. "But it is no so easy filling them up.
+Why, they will eat a whole hillside in no time. They can beat you, too,
+on staying out in all sorts of weather. Here in Idaho we generally have
+fairly mild winters, so our sheep can be out all the year round. We have
+a few shacks down in the valley where we can shelter them if we have
+cold rains during the season. They feed down there along the river,
+eating sage-brush and dried hay from fall until spring. It is often
+scant picking, but if it is too scant we give them grain, alfalfa hay,
+or sometimes pumpkins."
+
+"Why, I never dreamed they stayed out all winter!" ejaculated Donald,
+opening his eyes.
+
+"In a state where it is as mild as this one they can. Then in the spring
+when the shearing, dipping, and all is done, we start for the range. We
+never go, though, until the sun has baked the grass a while, for if the
+herd crops too early the sheep pull at the new shoots that are just
+taking hold in the soil and up they come--roots and all. Then in future
+you will have no grass--just bare ground. Very early grass is bad for
+sheep, too."
+
+"What do people do where there are no ranges, Sandy?"
+
+"Their sheep are kept in great fenced-in pastures and fed from troughs
+or feeding racks. They have alfalfa hay, turnips, rape, kale, corn,
+pumpkins and grain. The range sheep are the hardiest, though. Sheep were
+made to climb and scramble over rocky places, and they are stronger and
+healthier for doing it."
+
+"I'd rather be a range sheep!" declared Donald.
+
+"And I!" agreed Sandy promptly. "But you're no through telling me about
+the sorts of sheep you learned about. Didn't anybody tell you about the
+Cotswolds?"
+
+Donald shook his head.
+
+"Oh, that's a sad pity. They are such big, grand fellows with their
+white faces and white legs. And dinna forget the Lincolns. You will have
+no trouble in knowing a Lincoln. They are the heaviest sheep we have,
+and their wool is long. A Lincoln is handsome as a painting; in fact I'd
+far rather have one than some of the paintings I've seen. You want to
+get sight of one when its fleece is full! We have a scattering, too, of
+Leicesters and Dorset Horns, but the Dorsets are such fighters that I
+dinna care much for them. They will even attack the dogs."
+
+"I never heard of sheep doing that!"
+
+"Now and again they will, but not often."
+
+Sandy paused and began to whistle softly to himself.
+
+"Are--are those all the kinds of sheep, Sandy?" ventured Donald at last,
+after he had waited for some time and there seemed to be no prospect of
+Sandy coming to the end of his tune.
+
+"All! Hear the lad! All! Indeed and that's not all! There are Cheviots
+from the English and Scotch hill country. You've had a cheviot suit,
+mayhap. Yes? Well, that's where you got it. Then there is the Tunis and
+the Persian. California, Nevada, and Texas raise Persians. They are a
+fat-tailed sheep. We never went in for them here. In England you will
+find a host of other sorts of sheep that are raised on the English
+Downs; most of them are short-haired and are raised not so much for
+their wool as for their mutton. There are Southdowns, Hampshire Downs,
+Sussex, Oxfords, Shropshire Downs, and the Dorset Horns. We always like
+some Shropshires in our herd."
+
+"Oh, Sandy," groaned Donald with a wry smile, "I never, never can
+remember all these kinds."
+
+"Dinna shed tears about it, laddie. The wool will keep growing on their
+backs just the same. But it's likely that you'll never again be thinking
+that a sheep is just a sheep!"
+
+"Indeed I shan't!"
+
+"As for myself," went on Sandy, "I like all kinds; I like the smell of
+them, and being with them on the range. You'll like the range, too, if
+your father lets you go. You'll like the big sky, the crisp air, and the
+peace of it."
+
+"I hope he will let me go."
+
+"Dinna fear! We will 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 Ranch myself."
+
+Thornton drew a quick breath.
+
+It was evident that he was amazed and none too well pleased.
+
+"It is hard work, sir--especially when you are not used to it."
+
+"I am accustomed to hard work."
+
+"The men will take advantage of you, sir--if I may be so bold as to say
+so. They know you were not brought up to sheeping. They will impose on
+you and shirk their duties."
+
+"I am not afraid, Thornton," was the calm reply. "I have had a chance to
+test what they would do when they were dipping the sheep. It was as
+thorough a piece of work as one would wish to see done, and went
+smoothly as a sled in iced ruts. I never saw better team-work. Sandy
+directed things most ably."
+
+"Sandy does well enough at times," was Thornton's grudging answer, "but
+you are depending on him too much. You may regret it later."
+
+"I doubt it."
+
+Thornton turned.
+
+"Wait and see," was his curt reply.
+
+After he had gone out Donald rose and came to his father's side.
+
+"Thornton doesn't like Sandy, father."
+
+"I am afraid he doesn't, Don."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Think of a reason."
+
+"Because Sandy is the son of Old Angus--is it that?"
+
+"Possibly," responded Mr. Clark, "and yet I think it is not wholly
+that."
+
+"Because Sandy is so good?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"Because we both like Sandy so much?" persisted the boy.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"Well, I don't see how any one could help liking Sandy! He is the best
+man on the place. He knows so much, and is so full of fun, father! And
+he is so kind to his dogs and to the sheep! Why, I believe he loves
+every sheep on Crescent Ranch."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"Father," burst out Donald when he could bear the silence no longer, "I
+believe Thornton wants you to appoint him manager of our ranch."
+
+Mr. Clark's face lighted with pleasure.
+
+"I am glad to hear you call it our ranch, Don," he said. "I want you to
+grow up and go to college and afterward I wish you to choose some useful
+work in the world. Whatever honorable thing you elect to do I shall
+gladly help you to carry out. But if it happened--not that I should ever
+urge it--but if it happened that by and by you wanted to take part of
+the care of this ranch on your shoulders it would make me very glad."
+
+"I am sure I should like to," cried Donald impulsively.
+
+"No, no," his father responded, shaking his head. "Do not give your
+word so thoughtlessly. It is a serious matter to choose what you will do
+in life. You must take a long 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 come in and speak to you and Donald, Mr. Clark?"
+
+Mr. Clark laid down his book. He always enjoyed a talk with Sandy.
+
+"Certainly," he answered. "Come up by the fire, Sandy. The chilly
+evenings still hang on, don't they?"
+
+"They do so. I'm thinking, Mr. Clark, that now Thornton is back again it
+is time I started for the range. Some of the herders have gone already,
+as you know; the rest will be off to-morrow. I ought to be getting under
+way soon if I want to land my flock in high, cool pasturage before the
+heat comes."
+
+"Very true, Sandy. I have kept you behind because your aid in starting
+off the wagons and the other herders was invaluable. But, as you say,
+there is no need to detain you longer. How soon could you get away?"
+
+"I could start to-morrow if I had my permit."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"As you remember, sir, we must have permits to graze on the range. You
+have paid enough money to the government to realize that."
+
+"Yes, indeed. And I never grudge the money, either."
+
+"What are permits, Sandy?" put in Donald eagerly.
+
+"Well, laddie, long ago people who raised horses and sheep wandered over
+all the mountainsides with their herds, and fed them wherever grass was
+plenty. It was free land. Anybody could graze there. It was a fine thing
+for a man with thousands of sheep not to have to pay a cent for their
+food, wasn't it?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"You would have thought there would have been enough for everybody to
+feed their stock peaceably, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Yes, indeed!"
+
+"Well now, it didn't work out so at all. The sheepmen and the cattlemen
+came to actual war. The cattlemen declared that their herds would not
+graze where the sheep had been because of some queer odor the sheep left
+behind them; they argued, moreover, that sheep gnawed the grass off so
+close to the roots that they destroyed the crop and left barren land.
+The sheepmen, on the other hand, complained because the cattle--loving
+to stand in the water--waded into the water-holes and spoiled them. Each
+faction tried to crowd the other off the range. Dreadful things
+happened. Vaqueros, or cowboys, would dash on horseback right into the
+midst of a flock and scatter the sheep in every direction. Often many of
+the sheep fled into the hills and their owners never could find them
+again. Or sometimes the cowboys would drive the sheep ahead of them over
+high precipices. Cattlemen, being on horseback, had a great scorn for
+sheep-herders, who were obliged to trail their flocks on foot. The feud
+between the two varieties of stock-raisers became worse and worse."
+
+Donald listened breathlessly.
+
+"More men took up stock-raising as time went on, and in consequence more
+herds were turned onto the range. Soon the results began to show. The
+young trees of the forest lands were trampled down, or nibbled and
+destroyed; water-holes, which the settlers had used as their water
+supply, began to be polluted; homesteaders, who had built houses and
+settled in the sheep-raising districts, were driven off the range and
+had no place where they could be sure of feeding their flocks. The worst
+evil, though, was that one band of sheep after another would feed in the
+same spot. The first flock would nip off the top of the grass; the next
+flock had to eat it closer in order to get food enough; and when the
+last flocks came they burrowed into the earth with their sharp noses and
+dug the grass up by the roots. Whole stretches of land that had once
+been green and beautiful were left bare so that nothing would grow on
+them for years and years. Cattle do not eat the turf so close as that,
+and I do not wonder that the vaqueros complained, do you?"
+
+"I should think they would have!" agreed Donald heartily.
+
+"Then, too, the sheep have small, sharp hoofs, you know; these hoofs cut
+through the soil so that if many sheep travel over a place they grind
+the earth to powder. Well, that is just what happened. The sheep left
+the hillsides nothing but patches of brown dust. Things went on from bad
+to worse until our government stepped in."
+
+Donald kept his eyes intently on Sandy's face.
+
+"What could our government do?" he asked earnestly.
+
+"Well, it could do a good many things, and it did. First, it took about
+160,000,000 acres of land as National Forests. It was no longer free
+pasture. It belonged to the United States."
+
+"I should think the herders would have been pretty cross about that!"
+
+"They were. You can see just how they felt. They made their living by
+raising stock, and to be deprived of pasturage angered them. At first
+the government intended to stop all herds from feeding in these National
+Reserves. They thought it was time to protect the forests that we might
+not have floods, landslides, and forest fires. They called it conserving
+the forests. Afterward, though, they considered that the western people
+made their living by raising cattle and sheep, and they worked out a
+plan whereby every owner who wanted to graze on the range should pay a
+certain sum to the United States Government for a permit, and should be
+allotted a particular pasture for his herd. The only restriction was
+that if an owner was granted a permit he must promise to obey the rules
+of the range. It was a wise and just arrangement. Only a certain number
+of sheep are now allowed to graze on a given area; there is therefore
+plenty of grass and no need for the flocks to eat the herbage down close
+and destroy it. The money for the permits, in the meantime, goes to the
+government, and enriches the United States treasury. Much of this money
+is spent in paying men to work on the range and better the conditions
+there, so really it comes back to the people who pay it."
+
+"I understand," Donald replied quickly, when Sandy paused for breath.
+"It is very interesting isn't it, father? But I do not see how they can
+prevent herders who have no permits from grazing on the range."
+
+"They ought not to have to prevent them!" answered Sandy, hotly. "The
+herders ought to be decent enough to obey the law. If you are granted a
+favor you ought to be a gentleman in accepting it. Now I'm born of
+generations of shepherds--poor country folk they were, too; but my
+people ever had a sense of honor--they were gentlemen."
+
+Sandy drew himself up and threw back his head as he spoke the words.
+
+"I cannot imagine a McCulloch being anything but a gentleman, Sandy,"
+said Mr. Clark, who had been listening carefully to Sandy's story of the
+range.
+
+Sandy was pleased.
+
+"It's many would not think so, Mr. Clark," he replied, as he stretched
+out his rough, brown hands.
+
+"One can tell nothing from hands," laughed Mr. Clark. "The heart is the
+thing that tells the tale. A clean, honest heart makes a gentleman, and
+no one is a gentleman without it."
+
+"But you are not telling me how they kept the herders without permits
+off the range," put in Donald mischievously.
+
+"I almost forgot. The question always ruffles me. You did a bad thing to
+stir me up about it. I'll tell you. The United States had to put
+soldiers on the range--think of it--soldiers to protect the government
+from its own people! And when the government was working to help those
+very people, too. They called these soldiers rangers. It was their duty
+to patrol the dividing line of the National Reserves. Every herder who
+passed in must show his permit and let the ranger see that he had with
+him no more sheep than he ought to have. That was fair, wasn't it?"
+
+"Perfectly!" nodded Donald.
+
+"Alack! It is a sad thing that there are people in the world who do not
+love their country well enough to obey her laws. If they are too stupid
+to see the laws are for their good why can't they trust the government?
+Here the government was going to give the herders better pastures and
+keep their flocks from being molested in them. Wouldn't you think a man
+with a grain of sense would see the wisdom of the plan!" Sandy's temper
+began to rise once more. "But no! The herders just felt the rangers who
+had been stationed to carry out the laws were enemies who had taken away
+their freedom. So when the rangers did not see them they tried every way
+to steal into the reserves without permits. Two men would start with
+their flocks; one would take the attention of the ranger by showing his
+permit and while the ranger was busy with him the other man would slide
+into the reserve far down the line where he was not noticed."
+
+"What a mean trick!" cried Donald. "And what if the ranger happened to
+see him?"
+
+"Oh, he would gallop after him and ride into his flock, scattering it
+every which way as he tried to drive the sheep out of the reserve. Often
+the herder would lose hundreds of them."
+
+"Served him right!"
+
+"That's what I think, too," grinned Sandy. "The like are not all dead
+yet either--worse luck! And this brings me back to the matter of my
+permit, Mr. Clark. We are two permits short, sir. The new herds that
+came from Kansas City are not counted into our old rating. Did you think
+of that? Having more sheep this year we must pay in more money. You
+didn't happen to remember, did you, to get permits for those extra
+flocks?"
+
+"No, Sandy, I didn't; but of course Thornton has attended to it. See,
+here he comes. We will ask him. Thornton," he called, as the big fellow
+passed the door, "what are we going to do about permits for the new
+herds? They are not included in the tax we now pay."
+
+"Don't you worry about more permits, Mr. Clark. I can save you a penny
+on that," declared Thornton with a knowing wink. "You pay the government
+enough as it is. Leave it to me, sir. I'll see that the herds get into
+the range all right, and that it costs you no more. When Sandy goes in
+he can talk with the ranger. All the rangers know him and they never
+will suspect him. In the meantime Owen can take the Kansas City herd and
+slip in further down the line. There is no danger of our being caught.
+Many a herder has done it and had no trouble."
+
+"There will be no sliding sheep into the reserves without permits while
+I own Crescent Ranch, Thornton," said Mr. Clark sternly. "We will pay
+what we owe the government or we will keep fewer sheep."
+
+"I was only trying to save you money, sir," Thornton hastened to
+explain.
+
+"You took a very poor method to do it," was Mr. Clark's cold reply. "The
+money part of wool-growing is not your care. You are here to raise sheep
+in conformity to the laws of your country."
+
+"A mighty poor set of laws they are," grumbled Thornton sullenly.
+
+"You may not like them, but they are for your good nevertheless, and
+since you are an American it is up to you to obey them. I keep no man in
+my employ who is not--before everything else--a good citizen."
+
+Thornton flushed, but made no reply.
+
+Then darting an angry glance at Sandy from beneath his shaggy brows, he
+left the room.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+DONALD'S FIRST ADVENTURE ON THE RANGE
+
+
+After Donald went to bed that night Mr. Clark and Sandy had a long talk
+and the next morning when Donald came to breakfast the first question
+his father asked was:
+
+"How would you like to start for the range with Sandy, son, when the
+permits come?"
+
+"Oh, father! Will you really let me? I have wanted so much to go! I am a
+good walker, you know, and I am used to camping. Besides, I should like
+to be with Sandy," he added shyly.
+
+"I am convinced that you could be with no better young fellow in the
+world, Don, than to be with Sandy McCulloch," replied Mr. Clark warmly.
+"Yes, I am going to let you go. I want you to help Sandy, however, all
+that you can. You must not be an idler and make extra trouble. You must
+take hold and do part of the work if you go. Do not think," he added
+kindly, "that I consider you a lazy lad, for you are far from it. You
+have been a great help on the ranch since you came. I have not been
+ignorant of many thoughtful things that you have been doing to help. I
+simply wish to remind you that on the range Sandy will have all he can
+do. In the midst of your pleasure do not forget your obligation to be
+useful. If you keep your eyes open you will see things that you can do,
+just as you have seen them here. You will have a thoroughly good time on
+the range, and I am glad to have you go. A little later I may want you
+to come back to the ranch to help me. You will be willing to do that,
+won't you?"
+
+"Of course, father, I'll come whenever you send for me!" was the instant
+response. "But what are you going to do while I am gone? Can't you come
+too?"
+
+"I'm afraid not. I do not see how I can leave things here just now.
+Provisions must be portioned out and sent to the central camps. Then
+there are many repairs to be made and I must attend to those. I wish,
+also, to look over the books while I am here. You see I have plenty to
+do. When I get my work done I may ride up into the hills and join you
+and Sandy."
+
+"I wish you would," answered Donald. Then he added thoughtfully:
+"Father, if I stayed and helped you, could you get away any sooner?"
+
+The older man smiled at the boy.
+
+"That is generous of you, Donald boy. I appreciate it. No, I do not see
+how you could help me by remaining. You go with Sandy and when I need
+you I will send for you. In the meantime Thornton and I will get on very
+well here."
+
+"Thornton! Isn't he going to the range with one of the new herds?"
+
+"Not at present. There is a great deal of work to be done here. I prefer
+to keep him to help me."
+
+"I wish you would have somebody else to help you and let Thornton take
+the herd, father."
+
+"I think he is better here."
+
+"Very well. You know best," declared Donald. "Shall you really feel all
+right if I go with Sandy?"
+
+"Yes, indeed. I want you to learn every phase of ranch life that you
+can. Then if anything ever decided you to take up wool-growing as a
+business you would come to it with a knowledge I never had. It would be
+far more interesting on that account. If, on the other hand, you decided
+on some other work in life you at least would have learned something of
+one of the great industries of our country and would be a broader-minded
+citizen in consequence."
+
+"I am sure I should, father. Why, ever since I have seen how big America
+is I am lots prouder that I am an American."
+
+His father smiled at his enthusiasm, then added gently:
+
+"Yes, but size is not everything. It is what a country is doing, or
+trying to do, to better the conditions of her people that makes her
+truly great. You know some of the things that are done to make life
+happy, healthful, and comfortable for those who live in our cities. Now
+go out on the range. Look about you. See all that thoughtful, far-seeing
+men are doing to protect our forests, hillsides, streams; see how our
+government is entering into the life of those who live not in cities but
+on farms and ranches. You will find our country is doing much on the
+range beside merely issuing permits for us to graze there."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Sandy knows; he'll show you. In spite of the fact that he was born a
+Scotchman he is as good an American as I know. He appreciates the
+benefits of this wonderful land enough to desire to be a helpful,
+law-abiding citizen. He does not accept all the advantages America
+offers without giving something in return, you see."
+
+"Sandy is too proud to take everything for nothing, father."
+
+"He is also too honest, son. Now go and get your camping traps together.
+I expect by afternoon to have a telegram that will answer in place of
+permits until they can be mailed to us. As soon as they come you and
+Sandy can start off; and in case they do not come to-day I can send them
+after you by a mounted messenger. So I think you'd better set out
+anyway. Wear your tramping shoes and carry your sleeping-bag. You better
+ask Sandy if there is anything else he wants you to take."
+
+Donald needed no second bidding.
+
+He was in the highest of spirits.
+
+An hour later and he had said good-bye to his father and Thornton, and
+was on his way to the range with Sandy McCulloch. At their backs a band
+of about two thousand sheep ambled along, the four dogs, Robin, Prince
+Charlie, Colin, and Hector, dashing in and out among them to keep the
+stragglers well in the path.
+
+The trail Sandy was following led across the open fields and ascending
+gradually, made for the chain of low hills faintly outlined in the
+far-away blue haze. Beyond these hills loomed more distant mountains,
+their tops capped with snow. These mountains, Sandy told Donald, were
+the foot-hills of the Rockies.
+
+It was quite evident that Sandy was now in his element. He swung along
+with slow but steady gait, carrying his pack easily and swinging his
+staff. His eye was alert for every movement of the flock. Now he would
+turn and draw some straying creature into place by putting his crook
+around one of its back legs. Sometimes he would motion the dogs to drive
+the herd along faster.
+
+To an eastern-bred lad who had lived all his life in a city the scene
+was wonderfully novel. The great blue stretch of sky seemed endless. How
+still the country was! Had it not been for the muffled tramp of hoofs,
+the low bleating of the herd, the flat-toned note of the sheep-bells,
+there would not have been a sound. The quiet of the day cast its spell
+everywhere. Sandy, who was usually chary enough of his words, preserved
+even a stricter silence. Although his lips were parted with a contented
+smile, only once did he venture to break the quiet and that was when he
+softly hummed a bar or two of "There Were Hundred Pipers"--a favorite
+song of his.
+
+At last Donald, who was bubbling over with questions, could bear it no
+longer.
+
+"Are you always so quiet, Sandy, when you go to the range?" he asked.
+
+The Scotchman roused himself.
+
+"Why, laddie, I was almost forgetting you were here! Aye, being with a
+flock is a quiet life. You have nobody to talk to on the range--nobody
+except the dogs; so you fall into the way of thinking a heap and saying
+but little. I like it. Some herders, though, find it a hard sort of
+existence. Many a man has sat alone day after day on the range, watching
+the sheep work their way in and out of the flock until in his sleep he
+could picture that sea of gray and white moving, moving, moving! It was
+always before him, sleeping or waking. It is a bad thing for a shepherd
+to get into that state of mind. We call it getting locoed."
+
+"What does that mean?"
+
+"You must know that on the hills grows a weed called loco-weed.
+Sometimes the sheep find and eat it, and it makes them dull and
+stupid--you know how you feel when you take gas to have your teeth
+pulled. Yes? Well, it's like that. We never let the herd get it if we
+can help it, and if they do we drive them away from it. They will go
+right back again, too, and eat more if you do not watch them. That's
+what loco-weed is."
+
+"And the shepherds?"
+
+"When a man gets dull and stupid by being alone so much, and sees sheep
+all the time--even when his eyes are shut--the best thing he can do is
+to leave the range. Some folks can stand being alone, others can't. Why,
+I have known of herders being alone until they actually wouldn't
+talk--they couldn't. They didn't want to speak or be spoken to and were
+ready to shoot any one who came upon them on the range and disturbed
+them. Once I knew of a herder leaving a ranch because the boss said
+good-morning to him. He complained that things were getting too
+sociable."
+
+"I should think the herders would like to see people when they are alone
+so much."
+
+"Aye. Wouldn't you! But no. In Wyoming there is a law that no herder
+shall be sent out alone to tend flocks; men must go in pairs. More than
+that they must have little traveling libraries of a few books. The
+reason for that is to prevent them from sitting with their eyes fixed
+vacantly on the moving sheep all the time. It is a good law. Some time,
+likely, they will have it in all the states."
+
+"I mean to tell father about it. We could do that at our ranch easily,"
+said Donald. "Do you get lonely on the range, Sandy?"
+
+"Nay, nay, laddie. It is many a year that I have been alone on the
+hills. I love it. There is always plenty to do. Sometimes I play tunes
+on my harmonica. Again I'll spend weeks carving flowers and figures on a
+staff. Then I have my dogs, and they are rare company. I sleep a good
+part of the day, you know, and watch the flock at night."
+
+"But I should think you would sleep at night."
+
+"I couldn't do that."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because there is more danger to the sheep at night. It is then that the
+wild creatures steal down and attack the herds."
+
+"Wild creatures?"
+
+"Bears, bob-cats, cougars, and coyotes."
+
+"On the range!" cried Donald.
+
+"Where else?"
+
+"But I never thought of such animals being on the range!" murmured the
+boy.
+
+Sandy flashed him a smile.
+
+"You're no in a city park here, laddie," he observed emphatically.
+"There are all sorts of prowling creatures abroad at night. They are not
+after us--never fear. It is the poor, helpless sheep they are after."
+
+"Do you suppose, Sandy, that I shall see a bear?" asked Donald, his eyes
+sparkling.
+
+"Verra likely. For your sake I hope you may; for the sake of the herd I
+hope not. I have seen many on the range and have shot not a few. Down at
+the ranch I have a long chain made of bears' claws."
+
+Donald's eyes opened wider and wider.
+
+"I'd like to see a bear," cried he. "Just see him, you know--not have
+him hurt the sheep."
+
+"Mayhap you'll get your wish."
+
+Thus--now talking, now lapsing into big, silent pauses, Donald and Sandy
+jogged on. At sundown they stopped for the night near a water-hole and
+here the flock was refreshed by a draught from a clear mountain stream.
+Then Sandy unpacked his saucepans, built a fire, and fried bacon which
+he laid--smoking hot--between two slices of bread. Was ever a meal so
+delicious, Donald wondered! Supper finished, the little portable tent
+was set up, more wood heaped on the fire, and the camp pitched for the
+night. Donald was tired out. After the sheep were bedded down around
+them, he crept only too gladly into his sleeping-bag and was soon
+oblivious of the range, the herd, and even Sandy himself.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he awoke it was with a sense of being cramped within a small space.
+He opened his eyes. It took him a few moments to collect his wits and
+remember where he was. Ah, yes! Here was the little low tent over his
+head, and just outside blinked the embers of the fire where he and Sandy
+had cooked their supper.
+
+[Illustration: THEY STOPPED FOR THE NIGHT]
+
+He sat up softly and peered out into the night.
+
+The country was flooded with moonlight in the brilliancy of which the
+ridges of the far-off hills stood out clearly; even the pool in the
+midst of the pasture caught the radiance and gleamed like a mirror. But
+amid all the beauty a subtle feeling of solitude oppressed him. It
+seemed as if he was the only being in the whole world.
+
+Further out he leaned.
+
+Then he started suddenly.
+
+All that great sea of human creatures that had surrounded him when he
+went to sleep had vanished!
+
+Not a sheep was to be seen.
+
+Thoroughly alarmed, he turned.
+
+"Sandy!" he called. "Sandy!"
+
+There was no reply.
+
+With growing apprehension he thrust out his hand in the direction where
+the herder had been lying.
+
+The chill of the cold earth met his touch.
+
+Terrified he sprang to his feet and bent down in the darkness.
+
+There was no one with him in the tent! Sandy and the herd were gone!
+
+For a while Donald stood very still. He was really alone, then--alone,
+miles from the home ranch, and not knowing the way back again! This was
+his first thought. The next was of Sandy.
+
+All that Thornton had hinted flashed into his mind. Sandy was not to be
+trusted, Thornton had told his father. If they placed any dependence on
+the young Scotchman they would some time regret it.
+
+Had Sandy deceived him?
+
+What possible object could he have, Donald asked himself, in so quietly
+departing with the sheep and leaving him behind?
+
+At least he had left the tent.
+
+Had he taken the food and rifles with him?
+
+With beating heart Donald scrambled for his match-box and made a light.
+
+No, there was the knapsack of provisions, the saucepan, the coffee-pot!
+In the corner, too, stood his own rifle. But Sandy's rifle was missing.
+
+Donald reflected a moment.
+
+Sandy must be coming back. Ah, that was it! But where had he gone? Why
+should he rise up in the middle of the night, take the flock and dogs,
+and steal off in this noiseless fashion? The boy could not solve the
+enigma.
+
+For the present, at least, there was nothing to be done. He glanced at
+his watch. It was three o'clock. He turned into his sleeping-bag again,
+having first taken the precaution to put his rifle within easy reach.
+Yet try as he would he could not sleep. His eyes stared, broad awake, at
+the shadowy dome of the tent. He wished it was day.
+
+As he lay there straining his ears for the cadence of approaching
+herd-bells he was conscious of a muffled sound--a dull, soft footfall,
+as if some one was loitering stealthily about the tent. He heard it
+again. Then he could distinctly hear a sniffing at the corner of the
+tent near which the provisions lay.
+
+Donald's heart leaped to his throat.
+
+He could feel the blood pounding under his ears.
+
+Who was coming so near with that velvety tread?
+
+Noiselessly he wriggled out of his sleeping-bag and stood behind the
+flap of the tent, rifle in hand. Then he heard the unmistakable panting
+of some heavy creature--some creature so close to him that he could
+detect the rhythm of every breath it drew. Shaking in every limb he
+stole a look outside. Just beside the opening of his shelter he could
+see, clearly defined in the moonlight, a thick, dark shadow outlined on
+the grass. It was cast by some beast that was halting near the doorway.
+
+In another second it would be upon him.
+
+The boy caught his breath.
+
+There was no time to think.
+
+Raising his rifle, he fired at the great dark mass. Again he fired!
+
+Had he struck the mark?
+
+Another instant would tell.
+
+The creature would either roll over wounded, or would spring upon him.
+
+He jammed back the trigger of his rifle. The tremor that had swept over
+him at first now left his hand. His arm was perfectly steady, his blood
+swinging in quick throbs through his body. He fired a third time.
+
+There was a heavy thud, the rolling of a black mass on the ground, a
+gasp, a growl! Then all was quiet.
+
+Still Donald dared not take any chances. He poured another round of shot
+into his victim. It did not move.
+
+Then cautiously he crept outside, his rifle tight in his grasp.
+
+There on the ground a shaggy object lay motionless.
+
+He went nearer.
+
+Then he gave a shout of astonishment.
+
+It was a bear!
+
+He had shot a bear--he, Donald Clark, alone and unaided, had really shot
+a bear! What a story to tell his father; and Sandy, too; and the fellows
+at home!
+
+Then, for the first time, he was conscious of a trembling in his arms.
+His knees felt strangely weak. Now that the excitement was over he
+realized that he wanted to sit down. His rifle slipped from his fingers
+and he dropped to the turf. There he rested in a dazed sort of way and
+reviewed the tragedy. Suppose he had not been awake? Suppose the bear
+had come into the tent while he lay there asleep and unarmed? In his
+heart he felt very grateful for his escape.
+
+Then there followed a disquieting thought--suppose there were other
+bears! He had often read of their coming in groups of fives and sixes.
+It was no time for him to sit limply on the ground. He caught up his
+rifle and recharged its empty chambers. Then before the tent door he sat
+until sunrise, anxiously scanning the dim pasture-land and the distant
+rocky fastnesses. It seemed as if the day would never come.
+
+Presently across the intervale he caught the faint tinkle of herd-bells.
+Over the brim of rolling green just ahead of him came the flock, Sandy
+leading them, and the collies nipping at their heels. The herder strode
+rapidly forward, waving his sombrero as he came. Donald ran to meet
+him.
+
+"Are you safe and sound, laddie?" called Sandy when he got within
+shouting distance. "I have had a thousand minds about you--whether I
+ought not to have waked you, tired as you were, and taken you with me;
+or whether it was better to let you sleep. You see when the full moon
+rose the sheep set out grazing. It's a trick they have. Many a time they
+have done it; when they once set out no power on earth will stop them.
+So the dogs and I had to go along too. I reckoned you would sleep until
+we got back. The herd went farther, though, than I thought they would. I
+had great trouble rounding them up."
+
+As he talked they neared the camp where Sandy's keen eye took in at a
+glance every detail of the scene before him. Then he looked sharply at
+Donald. Under the thick tan the boy could see him pale. His lips became
+livid.
+
+"Donald, lad, you are not hurt?" he cried, motioning to the bear that
+lay stretched on the grass.
+
+"No, Sandy, not a bit. Truly I'm not. See! Isn't he a big one?"
+
+"He is many a size too big for a boy like you to be fighting alone. I
+was a blind idiot to leave you behind me. Thank the good Lord you got
+off without a scratch. When I think of what might have come to you----!
+The next time I'll no go grazing without you, Don. But who would have
+thought of a bear venturing into these lowlands! He must have been very
+hungry."
+
+Later Donald had to relate every part of his adventure, and they skinned
+the black bear and spread his hide out in the sun.
+
+"His coat is thicker than that of most bears at this season of the year.
+It will make a bonny rug for your father's office, Don. When the
+camp-tender comes we will send it back by him to the home ranch.
+Thornton can get it cured for you at Glen City and it will be a sightly
+present for your father. You are a son worth having!"
+
+"I want to be, Sandy."
+
+"Dinna bother your head. I've seen full a dozen lads worse than you!"
+was the grim reply.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A NARROW ESCAPE
+
+
+It was not long before Donald felt almost as at home in the hill country
+as did Sandy himself. They pitched camp and stayed in one place until
+the grazing began to get scarce; then they "pulled up" and tramped on.
+Sandy knew the region well and was therefore seldom at a loss to find
+water-holes. During the night they watched the flock, and as soon as the
+herd had fed in the morning and was ready to come to rest they left the
+dogs on guard and slept. Donald usually slept soundly, for the fresh air
+and exercise kept him in perfect health. Sandy, on the other hand,
+slept with one eye open--or one ear open--the boy could never quite
+decide which it was. But the result was the same; by some mysterious
+means Sandy was always conscious of every move of his flock.
+
+Donald never tired of watching the young Scotchman. What a picture he
+was in his flannel blouse, open at the throat; his baggy trousers and
+sheepskin belt; his sombrero with its band of Mexican leather; and the
+field-glasses slung over his shoulder! From these glasses, his rifle,
+and his crook he was seldom parted. His great knuckles, broad from the
+grasp of his staff, were like iron; and his lithe, wiry body was never
+weary. And yet with all his strength Sandy was the gentlest of men with
+his sheep.
+
+To his dogs he was a god! Still, with all their devotion, the collies
+evidently understood that the sheep were their first care and they never
+deserted their watch to accompany Sandy when he went on a hunt for
+water-holes or more abundant feeding grounds. They were wonderfully
+intelligent animals--these collies. Donald constantly marveled at their
+cleverness. They were quick in singling out the slow or wayward sheep
+and would bite their heels to hurry them along. They also recognized the
+leaders and it was to them that they communicated the directions Sandy
+gave them. Yet Sandy seldom spoke to his dogs. A motion of his arm and
+they would spring forward and follow out his wish. Only when he
+commanded it did they bark. With their drooping, bushy tails and sharp
+noses they reminded Donald far more of wolves than dogs. Sandy was kind
+to all of them, but it was Robin and Prince Charlie of which he was most
+fond. They had been bred from dogs his father had brought from the Old
+Country, he explained to Donald. There were few persons in the world for
+whom he cared so much. Once when Robin had been lost on the range the
+herder had traveled the hills three whole days to find him.
+
+"What makes shepherd dogs so different from other dogs, Sandy?" asked
+Donald one day.
+
+"Some of it is in their blood. They seem to want to herd sheep--they
+can't help it. Then some of the credit of a fine sheep dog is due to
+his training. Why, I was months working over Robin and the Prince. I had
+them with goats and sheep from the time they were born. As soon as they
+were big enough I began teaching them to come when I called 'em. A good
+dog has got to learn to come to you when you speak. If he has done wrong
+he has got to come and be punished. Some dogs will run away when they
+see that you have caught them doing the wrong thing. You cannot let a
+sheep dog do that."
+
+"But how do you train them so they won't?"
+
+"I will tell you. It seems a heartless sort of way, but I had to do it.
+I tied them with a long piece of rope; then I called them. As soon as
+they came I spanked them good and hard, and afterward I'd pat them and
+give them a scrap of meat. They understood in time. They would come
+anyway--sure thing. If I whacked 'em it was all the same to them. By and
+by when they got so they would mind, I didn't have to whack 'em, and now
+it is seldom I lay hand to 'em. It was no pleasure to me, I can tell
+you, and I quit it just as soon as I felt sure they would walk up like
+gentlemen whenever I spoke, no matter if they knew beforehand that they
+were to be whipped. You can see why this had to be, Don. Of course you
+know such dogs have the nature of wolves. In fact the better the
+shepherd dog, the more like a wolf he is. Now a wolf is a born enemy of
+sheep. Sometimes the wolf in a shepherd dog will get the better of him
+and he will turn about and kill the lambs instead of guarding them. If a
+sheep-dog is once a killer he has to die. You can never be sure of him
+again. So you cannot turn a dog loose on the range unless he will come
+to you when you speak."
+
+"I suppose he might start killing sheep and you would not be able to get
+control of him," ventured Donald, much interested.
+
+"That is just it! He must come even if he knows he is to be shot the
+next minute. There is no safety for the sheep unless it is so. My dogs
+would come to me willy-nilly."
+
+"Isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"Yes, unless you have been months and months, as I was, getting them to
+do it; and even then it is rather wonderful. But a thing quite as
+wonderful as that is that they know every sheep in the flock. Let a ewe
+from another fold come in and they will scent her quick as lightning.
+And there is something else they will do: they understand well as
+ourselves that sheep will walk right over ledges and into pits, one
+after another; so the collies will stand guard at the edges of such
+places and warn 'em off. What is that but human, I ask you?"
+
+Donald nodded.
+
+"The men down at Crescent say," went on Sandy smiling broadly, "that I
+am daffy about dogs--my own dogs most of all. Well, haven't I cause?
+There is not a shepherd in this part of the country but would swap his
+collies for mine; or they'd buy them. I've been offered many a dollar
+for the two. But I'm no swapping my dogs, nor selling them, either!
+Sometimes, you know, we fat up sheep for the market and sell them as
+muttons. We then have to get the sheep into cars to send them off and it
+is no so easy if they haven't the mind to go. Well, you should see
+Robin and the Prince at the job. They will run right along the backs of
+the herd, biting the necks of the leaders until they get them aimed
+where they want 'em to go; then they'll nip the heels of the others till
+they march up the planks into the cars neat as a line of soldiers. Or
+they will drive a flock onto a boat the same way. It is a great thing to
+get dogs that can do that. It takes more wit than a man has. Once a
+sheep-raiser from California saw Robin down at Glen City getting a lot
+of sheep off to Chicago on the train and he was hot for having him. He
+offered me into the hundreds if I would let him take the collie back
+with him."
+
+"And you wouldn't sell?"
+
+"The money ain't coined would tempt me to part with either of my dogs!"
+Sandy replied, with a contented shake of his head.
+
+He did not speak again, but lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
+
+There were many of these long silences during those days on the hills
+and to his surprise Donald had come to enjoy them. At first he had
+looked forward eagerly to the coming of the camp-tender, who made his
+rounds three times a week. Not only did this Mexican bring fresh-baked
+bread, cold meat, and condensed milk to add to the campers' stock of
+salt pork, lentils, and coffee, but he brought messages from the outside
+world; gossip from the other herders; and now and then a letter from
+Donald's father. These visits were as exciting as to meet an ocean liner
+at sea. Gradually, however, Donald looked forward less and less to
+seeing the tiny Mexican burros with their loaded paniers wend their way
+up the hillsides. He grew into the shepherd life until like Sandy he
+found himself courting the sense of isolation and almost resenting the
+intrusion of the camp-tender.
+
+He could now understand why the herders who had lived on the range for
+years were such a silent lot of men. When his father and he had first
+arrived at Crescent Ranch the shepherds had had so little to say that
+Donald, who was a sensitive lad, had felt sure that the men did not like
+to have them come. Later, however, he had found the herders kindly
+despite their taciturn manner. It was not ill-will but habitual silence.
+
+"What a lot of things people say that they don't need to, Sandy," he
+observed to the Scotchman one day.
+
+Sandy chuckled outright.
+
+"So you have come to that way of thinking, have you? We'll make a
+shepherd of you yet! Well, well, it is true enough. Folks chatter and
+chatter and what does it amount to? Many's the time they wish afterward
+they had held their tongues. But it is all as we're made. Some drop into
+being contented on the range; others cannot bear the stillness. I was
+ever happy alone in the open; but my brother Douglas was uneasy as a
+colt."
+
+"I didn't know you had a brother, Sandy!" exclaimed Donald, in surprise.
+
+"Aye, a little lad, five years younger than myself."
+
+"What--what became of him, Sandy?"
+
+"What became of him--that's a question that I wish I could answer! He
+came to Crescent Ranch years ago with my father and me and was about
+the place for a long time. But he was all for the city. He hated the
+quiet of the hills. He wanted to be seeing people and to be around in
+the rush of things, and he begged my father to let him go to some big
+place and find a job. My father was ever a strict man and he would have
+none of the youngster's going off by himself. There came a day, though,
+when the lad was so sore and unhappy that my father bid him set off for
+the East. There was no other way to satisfy the boy. But it was a sad
+time for my father--and for me, too."
+
+"Where did he go?"
+
+"To some city on the coast, I dinna just know where. We were ever
+thinking he would come back some day--but he never did. It is years now
+since I have had tidings from him. But sometimes when I am here by
+myself I cannot but wonder where he is and what has become of him. He'd
+be a man near twenty-five now."
+
+"Does my father know this?"
+
+"Likely not."
+
+"May I tell him?"
+
+"Aye, to be sure. No boy should have secrets from his father."
+
+"I can't see why a boy should want to," declared Donald. "Why, my father
+and I are--well, we are the greatest friends in the world! I like to be
+with him better than any one else."
+
+"So I figure. He must be thinking now and again that he'd like a sight
+of you at Crescent instead of seeing Thornton every day."
+
+"What sort of a man is Thornton, Sandy?"
+
+"What sort of a man do you take him to be?"
+
+"I do not like him!" was the prompt reply.
+
+"And wherefore?"
+
+"Oh, I--don't--know."
+
+"A poor reason. Dinna say that about any man until you get a better
+one."
+
+Donald colored.
+
+Sandy had dropped many a curt word that had brought the boy up,
+standing. Whatever else the young herder was he was just. Not only did
+Donald's liking, but his respect for him, increase.
+
+Ah, what happy days they passed together! Donald became so attached to
+the various camps that he hated to leave them. Sometimes he and Sandy
+would stay in a spot a week, sometimes ten days; then onward and upward
+over the great plateaus of the mountains they made their way. These flat
+reaches of pasture-land were like huge steps. It was hard to realize
+that they were constantly climbing. Yet up, up, up they went! Each camp
+was several hundred feet higher than the last. As they went on the
+pasturage became richer, the air cooler. Clear streams from melting,
+snowy summits rushed along, leaving pathways of music behind them. With
+a hawk's keenness Sandy chose the most fertile stretches of grass for
+the flock.
+
+"The weight of the clip depends on good grazing," he explained to
+Donald.
+
+"The clip?"
+
+"Aye, the wool. Wool is sold by the pound, you must know. The better the
+feed, the thicker the wool. We must look out, though, for poisoned
+meadows. There do be many in this region."
+
+"Poisoned meadows!"
+
+"Fields where poison herbage grows. Hundreds of sheep lose their lives
+devouring poisonous weeds. Keep your eye out for signs, laddie."
+
+"Signs! Signs up here!"
+
+"Where else? That is one of the many things our United States government
+does for us. It posts notices of poisoned meadows to warn the grazers on
+the range."
+
+"That is a pretty nice thing to do!" Donald said.
+
+"Sure enough it is," agreed Sandy. "Some day the survey will have all
+the water-holes catalogued along with the poisoned herbage, and will
+then be able to direct herders to the best grazing grounds. That is what
+the government is busy trying to do now."
+
+"And yet sheep-owners kick at paying for permits," exclaimed Donald.
+"Why, lots of that permit money must come back in this way to the very
+men who pay it."
+
+"For certain! And mind what I'm telling you--you will see more things
+that the government is doing for the herders when you get higher up. You
+will see great pastures fenced in with coyote-proof wire--pastures to be
+used in lambing time so the young creatures will be safe from
+prairie-dogs."
+
+"Do you have coyotes on the range?"
+
+"Do we? Do we? Folks would know you for a tenderfoot right off if they
+heard you ask that question! The coyote, I'd have you know, is the pest
+of the sheepman. He's the meanest critter--but there, why be talking?
+You'll see for yourself soon enough. The government has spent thousands
+of dollars killing coyotes on these ranges."
+
+"To help the sheep-raisers?"
+
+"So."
+
+"Well, I don't wonder my father wanted Crescent Ranch to pay its full
+share for permits. Since we are getting all these advantages, we ought
+to bear our part of the expense, oughtn't we?" said Donald.
+
+"That's my feeling. We ought to be proud, too, we are bearing it. It's a
+grand country! I wasn't born here, like you, but I came here as a child,
+and the bones of my people are here. I mean to live in America and take
+what it offers, and wouldn't I be the churl not to give the little I
+can in return! I haven't money, but I can live up to the laws. Scotchman
+though I be 'twill no hinder me from making a good American of myself."
+
+"Bully for you, Sandy!" cried Donald. Then he added soberly: "I am going
+to be a better American when I get back home."
+
+"Dinna wait till then, laddie--be a better one now!"
+
+Sandy chanced to be deftly cutting the outline of a thistle on a spruce
+staff he was carving for the boy. Donald watched him in silence as he
+worked in the fading light. The sun had set behind the chain of near
+hills, and the plateau where they were camping was gray with shadows.
+Through the dusk they could see the flock lazily browsing among the
+junipers.
+
+Suddenly there was a cry from Sandy.
+
+He threw down the staff and sprang to his feet.
+
+"The herd!" he shouted. "They're off!"
+
+Sure enough! Without a cry the leaders had started for the rimrock, and
+in their wake--straight for the face of the precipice--was running the
+entire flock.
+
+"They're startled!" gasped Sandy. "We must head 'em off. Run for your
+life! We must get between the brainless creatures and the cliff before
+they go over."
+
+Donald ran. He had never run so before. His training as a track sprinter
+stood him in good stead now. But he had never been a long-distance
+runner. Two hundred yards was his limit. Moreover he was not in
+training. But he ran--ran as he did not know he could run. He gained on
+the sheep. Sandy, in the meantime, was waving his arms to the dogs who,
+understanding his slightest motion, now dashed ahead. The sheep,
+however, were far in advance by this time. On they sped in mad panic.
+Donald could run no more. He began to lag, his heart beating like a
+hammer. Even Sandy, who from the opposite direction was racing for the
+edge of the rock, slackened his pace.
+
+The race was a hopeless one.
+
+Then without warning, out of the trees at the left side of the field
+rode a horseman at full gallop. With flying hoofs he cut in ahead of
+the herd just as they neared the face of the rock.
+
+The leaders swerved, circled, and turned about. The gait of the
+stampeding flock lessened. The dogs skilfully steered the approaching
+sheep out to one side where Sandy scattered them that they might not
+collide with the ranks coming toward them. Gradually the fears of the
+flock became quieted. Falling into a walk they worked their way into
+their customary places and turned about, feeding as they went.
+
+Immediately when Sandy saw them safe he pressed forward to the side of
+the horseman where he beckoned Donald to join him.
+
+"I spied your plight from the ridge above, Sandy McCulloch," called the
+rider. "The rest of the Crescent herd has gone in to the Reserve and I
+have had my eye out for you for days. I thought it was about time that
+you were coming along."
+
+"It's a good turn you've done me this day, Sargeant," Donald heard Sandy
+say.
+
+"You have done many a favor for me."
+
+"Dinna be talking. It is little I ever did for you. An errand or two
+perhaps, or carrying a message--but what is that? Any man would be glad
+to do the same. To-night, though, you have saved my whole herd. We
+should not have had a sheep left. Here is Master Donald Clark, the son
+of our owner," went on Sandy, as Donald came nearer. "Let him thank you.
+Don, this soldier is one of the government rangers."
+
+Leaning from his saddle the horseman put out his hand.
+
+"I am proud," he said, "to meet one of the owners of Crescent Ranch. If
+you are learning about the range, Master Clark, you cannot be in better
+company than to be with Sandy McCulloch. There is little about sheeping
+that he doesn't know; nor is there a cleaner-handed herder to be found.
+We never need to see his permit or count his sheep. He is no
+lawbreaker!"
+
+"I hope none of our men are," replied Donald, shyly.
+
+"Crescent Ranch has always had the reputation of being run on the
+square. We have no complaint to make," was the ranger's answer.
+
+"We--my father means that it shall be," the boy asserted modestly.
+
+"I do not doubt he does. You will have trouble, though, I fear, in
+finding another manager who can match Old Angus--or even Johnson. They
+were rare men who were famed throughout the county for their honesty and
+common sense."
+
+"We shall try to find some other manager as good."
+
+"May you be so fortunate. Good luck to you!"
+
+With a wave of his hand the ranger cantered into the darkness and was
+soon lost from sight.
+
+"You see, don't you, Don, that the rangers are not our natural born
+enemies after all," said Sandy, with a good-humored smile that bared his
+glistening teeth.
+
+"I should say not!"
+
+"They are all like that if we but live up to our part of the bargain. I
+never yet met a ranger who was not friendly and kind. But you cannot
+have folks for your friends if you do not meet them half-way."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DONALD HAS A SURPRISE
+
+
+It was something of a disappointment when one morning a week or two
+later the camp-tender, who had scrambled up over the rimrock, informed
+Donald that he was to return to the central camp where his father would
+meet him, and take him back to Crescent.
+
+"The ponies are tethered just below, so you can ride down along with
+me," said the Mexican. "There is nothing the matter, only your father
+has more than he can do with but Thornton and Green to help him. He
+needs you for a while. He told me to tell you that in a few weeks you
+might come back."
+
+Donald looked regretfully at Sandy.
+
+"I'm sorry to go, Sandy. I promised, though, that I would return to
+Crescent whenever father wanted me; of course I am anxious to help him
+all I can. I cannot realize that it is June, and that I have been two
+months on the range. What a jolly time we have had! It seems a pity to
+go and leave you here by yourself."
+
+"It would not be the first time I have been alone in the hills," smiled
+Sandy.
+
+"He'll not be by himself either," put in Pete, the Mexican, "for Tobin
+came up over the trail with me and is to bear Sandy company."
+
+Donald's face brightened.
+
+"I know you'll not be lonely, Sandy," he said, "but suppose anything
+happened to you--what if you happened to be hurt as Johnson was?"
+
+"Aye, poor Johnson! What do they hear from him, Pete?"
+
+"Mr. Clark has been to Glen City a number of times to see him. He is
+getting on finely! The ribs are mending and the hip, too. His heart is
+the trouble now; he is breaking his heart for Crescent and the range.
+The doctor says that he will never be able to come back to the ranch.
+Mr. Clark is going to settle him and his wife on a farm of their own in
+California, where their son is."
+
+"Oh, I am very glad!" cried Donald. "Father said he should always look
+out for Johnson because he had been so faithful."
+
+"It is like your father to do it--and like your grandfather, too, Don.
+May you be as good a man! Now get your traps together and be off with
+Pete. It's many a time I'll be thinking of you after you are gone,
+laddie."
+
+"But you know I am coming back in a few weeks, Sandy."
+
+"There's long weeks and short weeks; it all depends on what you're
+doing," was Sandy's whimsical answer. "Now be off. Why, you'd think I
+was seeing you to India instead of just down to the lowlands!"
+
+As he dropped over the rimrock, Donald tried to laugh. It was not until
+he was mounted upon the little Mexican pony that he gained courage to
+look up. Outlined against the sky Sandy was standing on a point of rock,
+waving his sombrero. That was the last Donald saw of him.
+
+Chatting as they rode down the mountainside the boy and Pete pressed
+forward over the trail. At noon they dismounted and lunched on salt-pork
+and pilot bread. Then off they cantered again. The tiny ponies,
+sure-footed as mules, made their way over the steep inclines of the
+hilly country with astonishing daintiness, but although they maintained
+a fair and even speed it was sunset when the white top of the prairie
+schooner came into sight, drawn up beside a stream and sheltered by a
+group of great trees. Several Mexican ponies were pastured near it. The
+curtains at the end of the wagon were parted and fastened back and
+inside Donald could catch a glimpse of Manuel, the Mexican cook, busily
+preparing the food. A curl of faint smoke rose from the tin pipe which
+protruded through the canvas, arching the top of the wagon. Then as
+Donald looked, into the clearing came the erect figure of his father.
+
+[Illustration: THE PANTING PONY STOOD STILL]
+
+The boy gave a shrill whistle on his fingers and touched the spurs to
+his horse's flank.
+
+"Father!" he called.
+
+Another moment and the panting pony stood still near the wagon, his
+sides heaving.
+
+Donald dismounted and ran to meet his father.
+
+"Well, well!" was Mr. Clark's first exclamation. "How is this? I sent a
+pale-faced American boy to the range and I get an Indian in exchange!"
+
+"I suppose I am tanned," laughed Donald. "I know my hands are. As for my
+face--I have not seen it since I started. We don't have looking-glasses
+in the hills."
+
+"And you enjoyed your trip?"
+
+"I had the time of my life, father! It is simply bully up there. I wish
+you had been along."
+
+"I am planning to go back with you in two or three weeks. It seemed a
+pity to bring you down, but I did need you, Don. If it had only been
+that I missed you I should not have sent, no matter how much I wanted to
+see you."
+
+"I was glad to come, sir. How is everything at Crescent?"
+
+"Going well. We are getting in a big crop of alfalfa from the south
+meadow. That is why I wanted you. You will now have to turn farmer and
+pitch hay for a while."
+
+"All right!"
+
+And that was what Donald did. For the next few weeks he was busy helping
+his father harvest the first crop of alfalfa grass, drying it, and
+storing it away in the great sprawling barn of the home ranch for winter
+feed. Days of hard work were succeeded by nights of heavy slumber. Life
+was very real. The boy was doing something--something that
+told--something that was of use to other persons; he had a place to
+fill, duties for which he was responsible. Continually he found himself
+speaking of "our ranch" and suggesting to his father that "we" do such
+and such things.
+
+Mr. Clark rubbed his hands with satisfaction. Although he and Donald had
+always preserved a close comradeship no experience had ever drawn them
+so near together as had this common interest. It was happiness to each
+of them. From the time the boy tumbled out of bed in the early morning
+until he tumbled in again at dusk his whistle could be heard shrill
+above the click of mowing-machines, and the tramp of horses' hoofs.
+
+At last came the day when the last load of alfalfa was housed under
+cover; then Mr. Clark said to Thornton:
+
+"Well, Thornton, there seems to be nothing more for which we shall be
+needed at present. You can deal out the rations and send them to the
+three central camps without me; you can also order necessary supplies
+from Glen City. Some repairs remain for you to oversee, but I am sure
+you fully understand about them, and can manage them without my help.
+To-morrow, therefore, if the day is fine, Donald and I will set out for
+the range, I think."
+
+Donald threw his hat into the air.
+
+"To join Sandy, father?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"That is my plan."
+
+"Hurrah!"
+
+Mr. Clark looked amused at his enthusiasm.
+
+"One would think you a born shepherd, Don, instead of a boy who has only
+been out on the range with a herder."
+
+"Why do you call Sandy just a herder, father?" Donald asked, seeming to
+fear that the term was a slight to his friend the Scotchman.
+
+"Because he is a herder, son. A shepherd is a man who herds or tends his
+own sheep--sheep that belong to him; a herder, on the contrary, is a man
+hired to care for other people's sheep. There is a great difference, you
+see. Generally speaking, a shepherd will take more pains with a flock
+than a herder will on the principle that we are more interested in our
+own possessions than in those which are not our own."
+
+"No one could take better care of sheep, father, than Sandy does."
+
+"I feel sure of that," agreed his father, gravely. "In fact all our
+herders are honest men--I am convinced of it. After the next shearing I
+mean to give to each man a small band of sheep for his own. He may run
+them with the flocks, sell the wool, and keep the money as a nest-egg.
+The men deserve a share in the profits of Crescent Ranch and I should
+like them to have it in return for their splendid spirit of loyalty."
+
+"Even Thornton?"
+
+Mr. Clark hesitated.
+
+"I have been watching Thornton," he admitted slowly. "That is why I kept
+him with me, and why I stayed behind."
+
+"Why, I never thought of that being the reason!"
+
+"It was my chief reason."
+
+"But now you are going off and leaving Thornton alone," Donald said,
+somewhat puzzled.
+
+"Yes, and I am leaving him in a position of trust, too. The supplies and
+much of our business is in his hands. He knows it. If he proves himself
+worthy, I shall appoint him, when we leave here, as manager in Johnson's
+place; if he abuses the confidence I am placing in him he will force me
+to appoint some one else. I wish to be perfectly fair."
+
+"But I do not like Thornton," declared Donald.
+
+"We must never be guided by our prejudices, Don."
+
+"And anyway," went on the boy, "I don't see how you will know what he is
+doing. You will be miles away in the hills. He could do almost anything
+he chose. Have you left some one to watch him, father?"
+
+"No, indeed, son. That would be a mean method; don't you think so? To
+set a trap for a man, or to spy upon him would be contemptible!"
+
+Donald hung his head, ashamed of the suggestion.
+
+"No," continued Mr. Clark less severely, "I have left no one on guard
+over Thornton but himself. I am really trusting him."
+
+"You will never find out what he does, then."
+
+"Yes, I shall."
+
+"I don't see how."
+
+"Thornton himself shall tell me."
+
+Donald gasped.
+
+"He never will tell you, father!" announced the boy positively.
+
+"Wait and see. Now let us think no more of Thornton, for it is of Sandy
+that we are to talk. He has a great surprise for you."
+
+"A surprise for me!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Clark studied the lad's mystified expression with pleasure.
+
+"A surprise for me!" repeated Donald. "What can it be!"
+
+"You will see."
+
+"Aren't you going to tell me?"
+
+"No, not a word. It would spoil Sandy's fun."
+
+"A surprise!" reiterated Donald over and over.
+
+As they rode from the central camp up over the rough trail Don
+speculated constantly as to what could be in store for him. It seemed a
+long journey for he was impatient to solve the waiting enigma. What
+surprise could Sandy have concocted? At the border of the Reserve they
+met the ranger who chanced to be patrolling that portion of the
+government line. He remembered Donald very well and greeted him kindly;
+he also had a cordial word for Mr. Clark. Donald, however, begrudged
+even this brief delay and was glad when they plunged into the woods and
+were on their way through the National Forest.
+
+Pete, the Mexican camp-tender who had come with them as guide, knew the
+country as an American boy knows his A B C's. He hunted out sheltered
+nooks where they could camp at night, taking great care to build the
+fire on a rocky base that it might not set ablaze the brush and litter
+of pine-needles about them.
+
+"Many a careless shepherd sets a forest fire through being thoughtless,"
+he said. "Acres of timber will be burned off a hillside by one person
+who did not put out his fire, or scattered sparks in the dried
+underbrush. Old Angus trained us Crescent men always to build our fires
+on a flat rock if we could; then there is no danger of our doing damage
+in the reserve or elsewhere."
+
+"It is a wise plan," Mr. Clark said heartily. "I wish all herders were
+as careful."
+
+So they journeyed on--now in the sunlight of the plateaus, now in the
+shadows of the forest. Then one morning they suddenly emerged into an
+emerald meadow glowing with sunshine. There a beautiful sight met
+Donald's eye.
+
+Spread out like a fan the herd was grazing on the rich herbage of the
+mountain pasture, their backs to the brilliant light as was their wont.
+But of these details Donald was not conscious. What held him spellbound
+was the miracle that had happened in his absence. Now he knew the
+surprise that Sandy had for him! Beside every ewe in the flock stood a
+tiny white lamb!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A SECOND ADVENTURE
+
+
+Donald's delight at being back on the range was equaled only by Sandy's
+pleasure at having him there. The first thing, of course, was to display
+the lambs to the boy and Mr. Clark.
+
+With no little pride the Scotchman led the newcomers over the pasture,
+pointing out the finest blooded creatures in the flock.
+
+"One would think, Sandy, that you were a mother hen with a brood of
+chicks!" laughed Donald's father. "Well, you have a right to be pleased
+with your herd. You have a fine lot of lambs."
+
+"They are no so handsome just now, sir," Sandy chuckled. "But give them
+time! A few weeks more, and a winsome sight they'll be."
+
+"Are--are--lambs always so long-legged?" queried Donald timidly, anxious
+not to hurt Sandy's feelings. "These seem to have no bodies at all--just
+legs."
+
+"That is their nature, lad. They have only enough body to keep their
+legs alive. Young lambs are ever like that. Later they fill out. It is
+their strong legs that enable them to travel with the flock as soon as
+they are three or four weeks old. But I am proud of them--legs or no
+legs. Now that they are here, our next task is to bring them through
+alive. We have lost but a few thus far. Luckily we had several sets of
+twins, so we have been able to give a lamb to every mother sheep that
+lost her baby. We fasten the strange lamb inside the skin of the dead
+one, and the mother is as well pleased as if she had her own back
+again."
+
+"What a funny idea!" Donald said.
+
+"Yes, isn't it? You see sheep recognize their young merely by scent. The
+power of smell is remarkably keen in all sheep. They can tell their
+babies no other way. We do not want any of the ewes grieving because
+they have no lamb--they do grieve, poor things--so we have to fool them
+a little. It is a fair thing to do because the ewes with twins do not
+need two. They are just as happy with one," explained Sandy.
+
+"And now you will have a big, big flock to take care of, won't you,
+Sandy?"
+
+"Aye! There is much more to do now. I am glad you have come back, Don,
+for I can put you to work."
+
+"You must put me to work also, Sandy," Mr. Clark observed, smiling.
+
+Sandy shook his head.
+
+"Well, I reckon not. It would be a fine thing for me to be asking a
+gentleman like you to put your hand to anything, now wouldn't it!"
+
+Evidently the idea amused the herder.
+
+"Why not?" Mr. Clark asked seriously. "I am used to putting my hand to
+much hard work when I am at home. Everybody in this world works one way
+or another. Some of us work with our heads, some with our hands; but so
+long as it is all honest, helpful work and we do it the best we can, we
+are all on equal footing, Sandy. Now if you were in my office in Boston
+I might be teaching you kinds of work that would be new to you; here you
+can teach me. Try and forget everything, and just consider me a person
+who is interested in sheep and wants to learn about them. Let me join
+Donald in helping all I can."
+
+"I'll take you at your word then, sir, since you urge me. I'm no denying
+it will make matters simpler. There is enough to do--more than enough,
+and extra help will be welcome. Luigi will be going down with the
+ponies, I suppose, sir."
+
+"Yes, he is to take them back, and stay and aid Thornton at the ranch."
+
+"Then you will have a place to fill right away, Mr. Clark. Some of the
+men who have been helping have gone down already, but I have kept Tobin
+and a couple of the Mexicans. Still it is no so easy to protect so many
+lambs from the coyotes. Lambing time is their great feasting season. A
+coyote is a mean creature, sir. Yet despise 'em as you may you cannot
+help admiring their cunning. There is no smarter animal alive than a
+coyote!"
+
+"Tell us about them."
+
+Sandy dropped down on a rock beside Mr. Clark and Donald.
+
+"A coyote, as of course you know, is a wee bit wolf, about the size of a
+fox, and there is no feed he enjoys so well as a young lamb. Coyotes
+seem to know when the lambs come and they make ready to raid the flocks.
+You'd think folks would be bright enough to catch 'em, but there ain't
+wit enough in the world to get ahead of them. They're the cutest! The
+tricks a coyote will invent, sir, pass belief. In spite of the fact this
+pasture is fenced with coyote-proof wire the creatures manage to get
+in--goodness only knows how."
+
+"Have they bothered you much, Sandy?"
+
+"Have they! Haven't we built fires round the herd every night and
+patrolled the whole distance, back and forth, until light? Luigi,
+Bernardo, Carlos, and I have been on our feet from twilight until
+sunrise, tramping like sentinels; yet with all our care we have lost six
+lambs already. Six is not many when you consider the numbers some
+herders lose, still it is just six too many. So you see if Luigi goes
+down over the trail to-day with the ponies we can find work for you and
+Donald to-night."
+
+"Oh, I think it will be great fun to patrol!" cried Donald.
+
+"Think you so? Well, mayhap you will find it sport, since you haven't
+been doing it night after night for two weeks, lad."
+
+Donald regarded him good-naturedly.
+
+"There will be plenty of work waiting you by day, too," Sandy went on.
+"Just now we are busy inserting the flock mark in the ear of each
+lamb--a metal button with a crescent on it. The next ranch to ours is
+Anchor Ranch, and their herd is marked with an anchor, while down beyond
+lies Star Ranch. It behooves us to keep close track of our herds and
+mark them carefully. Then in addition to the marking we must dock the
+tails of the lambs lest they become foul; and we must record every lamb.
+We have a book where we enter the number of the mother and opposite it
+the number of her lamb. That is the way we keep track of the breeds."
+
+"Why, I had no idea you had so many things to do, Sandy," said Donald.
+"It is almost as bad as taking the census."
+
+"It is, and it all has to be done correctly, too. You can look up in the
+books the history of every sheep we have at Crescent Ranch. The pure
+breed lambs have to be registered with the Breed Secretary, you know."
+
+"Sheep-raising seems to lead from one thing into another," reflected
+Donald. "In the East none of us ever think of all that the wool goes
+through before it is made into clothes for us."
+
+"It is better than any story," was Sandy's reply. "Herders get tired of
+it sometimes, but I never do. Sheeping is in my blood, I reckon. What
+with herding and trailing the flock, what with bears, and bob-cats, and
+cougars, and coyotes--I dinna see how it would ever be dull."
+
+"That is because you love your work, Sandy," said Mr. Clark.
+
+"I do. Take me from the ranch, sir, and blindfold me even, and I verily
+believe I'd find my way back again. Now a bit more about the coyotes. If
+you are to be of help you must hear all I can tell you so that you will
+know the better how to fight 'em. Sometimes they'll yelp like a dog and
+trick you into thinking your own collies are in trouble; but do not
+trust them. 'Twill be no collies but themselves that are barking. Again
+they will cheat you into believing that they are far away, so gentle
+will be their cry; that is to throw you off the track. Or they will bark
+in two keys as if there were twice as many of them as there really are.
+They are the canny ones! Then when you pick up your gun and go where you
+think they are, they will no be there; 'twill be at a different spot
+they are at work."
+
+"Well, Don," said Mr. Clark, "I do not see but you and I have something
+ahead of us. I am afraid we shall be of very little help, Sandy. Why,
+one ought to be an expert to catch such a gamester as a coyote!"
+
+"Then you're no grudging us the loss of six lambs, Mr. Clark."
+
+"I do not see how you did so well--to lose only six in a great flock
+like this!"
+
+"But even so, sir, I was that wrathful when I found I had been outwitted
+I could have cried. You see six or seven coyotes put their heads
+together, as they have a way of doing, and cut a group of lambs off from
+the herd--got between them and the flock. It took the dogs to drive 'em
+away. Robin and the Prince are great fighters, and Colin is not far
+behind. Before we got rid of them, though, we had lost three lambs. The
+next time they tried a different trick: part of them barked and drew the
+dogs to a corner of the pasture, and then the rest came down on the
+unprotected end of the fold and carried away three more lambs."
+
+"Is there nothing that will stop them?" asked Donald.
+
+"We have tried many things. Some herders put strychnine in the carcasses
+of dead lambs and poison a few of the coyotes; most of them are too
+clever to be caught that way, though. The government has also killed
+many. Perhaps to-night, Don, you may have a share in the good work. But
+I warn you do not send a bullet through one of my dogs, thinking his
+barking is the yelp of one of these range thieves."
+
+"Indeed I'll be careful," Donald promised, as he sprang up and ran to
+the edge of the rimrock to wave a good-bye to Luigi, who was
+disappearing round a curve of the trail.
+
+"The lad is happy as a king here on the range, Sandy," Mr. Clark
+remarked.
+
+"He takes to it as if he had been bred on the hills, sir."
+
+"I wish he might like the work well enough to go into the business with
+me some time."
+
+"There is no telling. He is but young yet. When he is old as I, mayhap
+he may choose to settle down and be a wool-grower."
+
+"How old are you, Sandy?"
+
+"I should be near thirty, sir, I'm thinking, though I haven't always had
+a birthday cake out here on the hills," was the whimsical reply.
+
+"Thirty! A rare age for such a level head as yours!"
+
+"I dinna ken about the head, Mr. Clark. My father used to say it was the
+heart that counted most. Now what say you to a basin of hot lentil
+soup?" inquired the Scotchman, changing the subject. "You and Donald
+must be hungry."
+
+"I believe we are. Let us go down to the tent. I see Donald there
+already, building the fire."
+
+After having eaten a hearty meal they left the flock which was resting
+or grazing near by in charge of the dogs, and Mr. Clark, Donald, and the
+men turned in to snatch a few hours' sleep in anticipation of the long
+watch before them.
+
+It was deep twilight when they awoke.
+
+Sandy shook Donald by the shoulder.
+
+"We must be up and away, laddie," he said, as the boy turned drowsily.
+"It's a man's work--real work you're doing here; you are no playing
+sheep-raiser. Rouse your father, snatch a bit of bread, and come and
+help me set the watch-fires. See, the Mexicans are already ahead of us."
+
+With quick step he was off.
+
+"Dinna forget your rifle," he called as he went.
+
+Donald was on his feet.
+
+"Father," he shouted, "Sandy says we must be starting out."
+
+Mr. Clark sat up.
+
+"I promised to obey Sandy, sure enough," he yawned, "and I like him all
+the better for routing me out, sleepy though I am. I will be with you in
+a moment. Where is Sandy?"
+
+"Setting watch-fires along the outer edge of the pasture. He says to
+bring your rifle."
+
+A little later and they had overtaken the Scotchman, who was striding
+along through the darkness, swinging his lantern.
+
+"It is here I'll station you, Mr. Clark," said Sandy simply. "Patrol
+this border as far as the bonfire; then turn backward and go until you
+meet Bernardo. Donald will pace between the next two fires, and the
+Mexicans and myself will complete the circle round the flock. Be careful
+lest bob-cats steal down on you unawares; they come softly as mice, make
+no fuss, and kill so quickly that they seldom disturb the herd. It is
+likely we will no be troubled with them because of the fenced-in
+pasture. Now cougars will leap the fence without the dogs knowing them
+to be at hand, too, and will take their kill off over their shoulders
+and disappear. We have seen no cougars, though, this year, and here's
+hoping that we won't. While you are patrolling I'd advise you to fire
+now and again, even though no beasts are in sight; it scares them off.
+Now I've told you all I can. Good-night."
+
+Away into the falling darkness sped Sandy.
+
+Donald began his patrol. As he trudged back and forth on his beat he
+could catch an occasional glimpse of the Scotchman, who stopped to toss
+a few sticks on the fire or halted an instant to exchange a word with
+one of the Mexicans. The boy could also see his father's dim figure
+walking to and fro. It was dull work, this monotonous tramp. Donald
+looked up at the canopy of stars and thought he had never seen so many.
+He yawned, and yawned a second time. Still he kept up his even jog along
+the outskirts of the fold.
+
+Suddenly he was conscious of a low whine not far away. It was repeated.
+Then came a loud barking as if a pack of wolves were on the other side
+of the pasture. He heard Sandy's voice echoing on the clear air. Two
+shots followed. Perhaps the coyotes were over there; or could it be a
+cougar or a bear? How he longed to be in the midst of the sport! Why
+should he stay on this quiet, unmolested border of the pasture? Nothing
+was happening here! An impulse to join his father or Sandy swept over
+him; then a thought rose in his mind and held him back--if he left his
+patrol he would be a deserter, a deserter as blameworthy as any sentry
+who fled from his post. Straightening up proudly, the boy resumed his
+even pace.
+
+It was just as he turned that he caught sight of a crouching form
+slipping along the ground toward the edge of the flock. With a sharp
+flash Donald's rifle rang out. He shot into the air, not daring to aim
+toward the pasture lest unwittingly he injure some of the sheep in the
+darkness. His shot was answered by a yelp and a quick rush. Colin
+bounded to his side, sniffed, and darted into the herd.
+
+A commotion followed.
+
+There was a struggle, a low growl of rage.
+
+Then the collie trotted back to Donald's side dragging in his teeth a
+limp mass which he dropped at the lad's feet.
+
+The boy struck a match and turned the creature over with his foot.
+
+It was a coyote!
+
+Then how glad he was that he had not left his post!
+
+At dawn Sandy came to relieve him. The herder glanced first at the dead
+coyote, then at some faint tracks in the moist earth.
+
+"You have interrupted a midnight orgy, Don," he declared at last,
+rubbing his hands together as he always did when anything pleased him
+very much. "Here are the marks of at least four coyotes that were
+stealing down on the flock when you fired. You got this one, and
+evidently drove off the others. I wish we had had as good luck on our
+side of the fold. In spite of his watchfulness Bernardo lost two lambs.
+He is one of our best herders, too, and he is sore about it. You have
+done a good night's work, lad. I am proud of my pupil!"
+
+And as Donald heard Sandy's words his lips parted in a smile and he felt
+he would have patrolled a line twice as long to have earned the young
+Scotchman's praise.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A PREDICTION THAT CAME TRUE
+
+
+When the lambs were three weeks old Sandy decided to break camp, leave
+the fenced lambing-pasture, and push on to higher ground.
+
+"The sun is getting hot and we must have cooler quarters," he explained.
+"By nature sheep seek elevated ground, you know, and their health is
+better there. Now that their fleeces are getting so much thicker the
+poor beasts are too warm in the low places. What is more, they need the
+exercise of climbing. Grass, too, is becoming scant and we must not eat
+it down too close."
+
+Mr. Clark agreed.
+
+Therefore a clear July morning saw the vast herd winding its way up the
+steep incline of the mountainside. Sandy went on ahead, guiding the
+flock to the best pasturage and the freshest water-holes. The lambs
+trotted at their mother's sides or frisked after them with the
+playfulness of kittens. When a plentiful water supply and rich grass was
+found Sandy often delayed the upward march a week or more, that the
+flock might make the most of the lush herbage. When feed was meager
+there were days of scrambling up rocky stretches, and nights of
+patrolling the fold. Then more days of climbing would follow. Sometimes
+a scarcity of water forced them to press on against their will.
+
+They had now reached a high elevation, but the warmth of the July
+weather rendered the coolness welcome. The sheep gladly sought out the
+forest shade or, when they were above the timber-line, rested in the
+shadow of the high rocks. This rough land seemed to be the favorite
+place for their sports, and Donald and his father were never tired
+watching them.
+
+A single sheep would mount a boulder, from which vantage ground he would
+stand looking down at the herd. In a moment several of the flock would
+rush forward, butt him from the rock, and one of them would take his
+place, only to be driven down and succeeded by the next victor. The
+sheep often played this for a long time.
+
+"It is a good game, too," declared Sandy, "for to rush up the side of a
+high rock like that and not slip back makes them sure-footed."
+
+Another game the flock sometimes played was Follow the Leader, one old
+ewe marching ahead, followed by a line of sheep that went wherever she
+led them.
+
+"They play it almost as well as we did at school," said Donald, much
+amused.
+
+"That is a useful game too," went on Sandy. "By playing it the young
+lambs learn to follow the others, and do what they do. That is one way
+they get training to keep in the herd and obey the mind of the leader.
+It is really more of a lesson than a game. I suspect, though, they are
+like us--so long as they think it is a game they like to play it.
+Perhaps, now, if we were to hint to them it was a lesson they might
+never play it again."
+
+Donald chuckled.
+
+There were many times when it seemed to him that Sandy must be a boy of
+fourteen instead of a man of forty; yet the next moment the Scotchman
+would address him with the gravity of a grandfather, and immediately
+Donald felt very young indeed. A strange mixture of youth and wisdom was
+Sandy McCulloch!
+
+As the lambs were now old enough to travel with the flock there was no
+further need for the Mexicans to linger on the range, and they therefore
+went back over the trail to busy themselves at the home ranch until
+shearing time. The camp-tender, too, did not now take time to make the
+difficult journey up into the mountains, but left supplies at a given
+spot in the lower pastures, or met some of the party half-way and
+delivered over the provisions. If the rations were left it fell to the
+lot of one of the campers on the upper range to ride down on the pony
+and bring back "the grub," as Sandy called it. Once when Mr. Clark went
+down it was only to find that the supplies had been scented out by a
+bear and dragged away; in consequence the party on the mountain were
+forced to get on without bread or fresh provisions until the tender made
+his next round.
+
+At times it was Donald's turn to make this trip; on other days Sandy or
+Bernardo went. As there was always the chance of meeting a grizzly or a
+rattler the journey was not without its perils.
+
+Thus the summer passed.
+
+Then came the fall days, when threatened cold made it necessary to turn
+the heads of the herd toward the lower hills of the winter range.
+Downward they wended their way. Flurries of snow caught them unawares
+and at these blizzards Sandy's face always became grave, for it was in
+one of these sudden squalls that his father, Old Angus, had perished.
+Although the days were chilly and the nights still colder, Mr. Clark and
+Donald kept resolutely with the flock; but when they reached the
+lowlands and the Scotch herder directed his band of sheep toward the
+bronzed fields of sage-brush and dried hay lying along the river valley
+Donald and his father bade good-bye to Bernardo and Sandy and returned
+to the shelter of the home ranch.
+
+Thornton welcomed them.
+
+There was something new in his manner--a strange, unaccustomed dignity
+which lent to the man a charm he had never before possessed.
+
+"Thornton did not shuffle toward us and look down as he usually does,"
+observed Donald to his father when they were alone. "He is different,
+somehow. What is it?"
+
+"I am not sure, son, but I cannot help feeling that Thornton has come to
+his best self. The best is in all of us. It is not, however, always
+uppermost. Perhaps it is going to triumph in Thornton."
+
+There unquestionably was a change in the big rough man.
+
+That evening he got out the books and went over all the accounts with
+Mr. Clark, telling him just what supplies he had ordered; what they had
+cost; and how much he had paid out in wages. In dealing with financial
+matters Mr. Clark was on his native heath. He studied the columns of
+figures critically. The accounts were correct to a cent, and he could
+readily see that every reasonable economy had been practiced in the
+management of the ranch.
+
+"You have done well, Thornton," he said after he had finished looking
+over the bills and papers. "I am greatly obliged to you for your
+faithful work."
+
+Donald saw a flush of pleasure rise to the man's cheek.
+
+"My work has not always been faithful, Mr. Clark," Thornton declared
+with sudden determination. "I want to tell you, sir, that I was not
+setting out to be faithful to you at all. I wanted to get Johnson's
+place, and then I meant to run Crescent Ranch to please myself. I am
+going to confess the whole thing; I want to confess it because your
+confidence in me has made me ashamed of myself. You must have known
+somehow that I was not running things as they ought to be run, else you
+would never have come out here. Sandy knew it--so did all the old
+herders. Yet, save about the permits, you never have spoken a word of
+reproof, but have gone on trusting me. When you looked me so kindly in
+the eye and went away leaving me in care of the whole home ranch I
+somehow felt that you expected me to do the square thing."
+
+His voice faltered.
+
+Donald, who had been an uncomfortable listener, now rose and tried to
+steal out of the room unnoticed, but Thornton called him back.
+
+"Do not go, lad. You may be owning Crescent Ranch some day, and I want
+you to hear what I have to say. There is not much more to tell. After
+you and your father had gone to the range with Sandy I sat down and
+thought it all over. Here I was, alone! There was no getting away from
+myself. I reviewed all the plans I had made--how I was going to stock
+some of my friends at Glen City with provisions and charge it up to
+Clark & Sons; how I was going to pad the accounts and keep the money--I
+went over the whole thing, and I felt mean as a cur. It came to me that
+it was a pretty poor game. Then another plan came into my mind. You were
+giving me a chance to be decent--why didn't I take it? I did. I have
+been absolutely honest about running the ranch while you have been gone,
+Mr. Clark. I can look you and Donald in the eye just as Sandy, José,
+Bernardo, and the other men do who have been working for your interest
+all these years."
+
+Mr. Clark put out his hand.
+
+"I am glad you told me this, Thornton," he said quietly, "and I believe
+you. See, here is a sheet of paper; it is scrawled over with letters and
+figures of every sort. Turn it over."
+
+Wonderingly the man obeyed. Nothing was written on the other side. It
+was a blank page.
+
+"You see there is nothing on that side," went on Donald's father. "We
+can there write what we will. Turn your own page the same way. Let us
+forget the past. Now for the future! Will you take the position as
+manager of Crescent Ranch?"
+
+Thornton was aghast.
+
+"I, sir! I? After all that has happened?" he contrived to stammer.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I couldn't do it, Mr. Clark. Not one of the men would believe in me.
+No, I am going to leave this place after the shearing is over, and go
+somewhere where no one knows me; there I can make a fresh start. And
+anyway, even if all this had not happened, I am not the man to be
+manager here. I have neither the confidence of the herders, nor the
+necessary knowledge about the flocks. But there is a man on Crescent
+Ranch who knows everything there is to know about sheep-raising--a man
+honest as the day, and who loves the place as if it was his own--Sandy
+McCulloch, sir. He is the only man for the position--there never has
+been any one else. Put him in as manager and you will never regret it."
+
+Donald sprang up.
+
+"Oh, father, do put Sandy in," he cried. "I never thought of Sandy as
+manager--he seems so young!"
+
+"I have thought of him all along," Thornton continued. "That is why I
+was so ready with a word against him every chance I got. I have been
+afraid of him--afraid of his honesty and his goodness. It was not that
+he would tell tales about me; Sandy is too big-natured a man to do
+that. He would scorn to use a mean weapon. No, it was just because he
+was what he was that I feared him."
+
+Mr. Clark was silent.
+
+"You owe it to Old Angus, Sandy's father, to give the lad the place,
+sir," pleaded Thornton.
+
+"And if I did what is to become of you, Thornton?" asked the owner
+slowly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know. It does not matter. I will stay here until after the
+shearing, for it is a busy time and I might be of help. Then I can go
+and look up something else."
+
+Donald watched his father as he bent forward and stirred the fire. The
+well-known little wrinkle had come in his forehead and the boy knew that
+his mind was busy.
+
+"Thornton," said Mr. Clark at last, "have you relatives here in the
+West?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Are you alone in the world?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Would you like to go East with Donald and me when we return to Boston
+after the shearing?"
+
+Thornton regarded him blankly.
+
+"I need another man in my office," explained the wool-broker. "You have
+proved yourself a good accountant. Furthermore it would be greatly to
+our advantage to have a reliable helper who is familiar with ranch
+affairs and knows Sandy, the new manager. Then if I wanted some one, as
+I often have in the past, to make the trip out here and attend to
+business for me, you could do it."
+
+Thornton got up and walked to the window. They could not see his face.
+He stood with his back toward them, looking out into the darkness.
+
+Then suddenly he wheeled and came to Mr. Clark's side.
+
+"You took me by surprise, sir," he said unsteadily. "I cannot thank you.
+I know well it is another chance you are giving me. I will take it and
+go East, and there I will prove to you that in the future you can trust
+me."
+
+"You have proved that already, Thornton," replied Donald's father, as he
+smiled up into the face of the ranchman and gripped his coarse brown
+hand.
+
+After Thornton had left the room Donald and his father were silent.
+
+At last the boy said:
+
+"You were right about Thornton, father. He was honest with you, just as
+you predicted he would be."
+
+"I believe if you expect the best of a man you will usually get it,"
+replied Mr. Clark. "There is something big and honest in each of us
+which springs to meet the big and honest in somebody else. Appeal to
+that best side of people and it will respond. I have seldom known the
+rule to fail. Now just one thing more. Do not forget that this man has
+given us his confidence. It is a thing we must hold sacred. Never repeat
+what you have heard. And above all remember that Thornton deserves both
+admiration and respect, for it is only great natures that admit they
+have done wrong."
+
+Donald nodded.
+
+"I like Thornton better than I did before father," he said softly.
+
+"So do I, son!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SHEARING
+
+
+There was great rejoicing among the herders when, in the latter part of
+April, they drove their flocks to Glen City for the shearing, and heard
+that Sandy McCulloch had been made manager of Crescent Ranch.
+
+Mr. Clark and Donald gave out the facts with greatest care--how Thornton
+was to become Clark & Son's confidential man at the Boston office; and
+how Sandy was to take the vast sheep-raising portion of the business
+under his direction.
+
+"It is a proud day for you, Sandy!" cried José.
+
+"I'm no pretending I ain't pleased," replied Sandy, beaming on the
+Mexican, "but dinna think I'm proud. If I do my work well pride may
+come; still, it's no time for it now."
+
+"Of course you'll do it well--how could you help it! It is in your
+blood," José declared. "You have your father's own knack about the
+flocks. It is the real love for herding--a kind of part of you, it
+seems."
+
+"I get it from generations of shepherds who have tended the black-faced
+sheep among the broom and the heather on the hills of Scotland, I doubt
+not," answered Sandy.
+
+"Well, it stands you in good stead, however you come by it," José called
+over his shoulder as he moved off toward the pen where his sheep were.
+
+"I hope it may stand me in good stead in the future, Don," Sandy said
+gravely to the boy beside him.
+
+"I am sure it will. Isn't it splendid, Sandy, to see the herders all so
+pleased and ready to follow out your orders? I think nothing could have
+made me happier than to have you put in to manage the ranch."
+
+"I'm verra, verra glad myself, laddie. It is a thing I never dared hope
+for, and I would not have wanted to take the job from Thornton. But
+since he is going East and is to be well provided for it makes
+everything right."
+
+"And yet you telegraphed my father to come here, Sandy."
+
+It was the first time the telegram had ever been mentioned between them.
+
+Sandy hesitated.
+
+"I felt your father should come out here and cast his eye over the place
+and, loving the ranch so well, I took it on myself to send for him. But
+I told no tales. It was his task to find the flaws if there were any. I
+am no certain what he found and I dinna want to hear. I simply know the
+snarls have straightened themselves out, and that Crescent Ranch is now
+going on better than it has in years. The men have all been glad for a
+glimpse of your father. It is no so much fun working for somebody you
+have never seen. It has been a great thing to have him come. And as for
+the herds--was there ever a finer sight?"
+
+He swept his hand around dramatically.
+
+On every side, in numbered pens, sheep were waiting to be sheared.
+
+It was the first time Donald had seen the stock all together and it was
+indeed, as Sandy had declared, a fine sight.
+
+The herders were not a little proud of the thickness of the fleeces of
+their respective flocks and much good-natured banter passed between
+them.
+
+"Is it on corn-husks you have been feeding your ewes that they look so
+sickly?" called one Mexican to another.
+
+The swarthy herdsman grinned.
+
+"Mind your own band, Manuel Torquello! You haven't a fleece in your fold
+that will tip the scales at ten pounds."
+
+Both men laughed and passed on.
+
+"How much ought fleeces to weigh, Sandy?" asked Donald.
+
+"From six to ten pounds--as the clip runs. Some are heavier, some
+lighter. It depends on the quality of the wool, and the amount of oil in
+it."
+
+"I don't see why the shearing is not done at the ranch instead of
+driving all the sheep down here to Glen City," panted Donald as he tried
+to keep up with Sandy's strides.
+
+"Why, you see, lad, it is much more convenient to have the wool clipped
+near the railroad. In that way we do away with carting it. The fleeces
+can be sheared, packed, weighed, and put right on the cars. Beside that,
+we get the power to run our plant from Glen City. Our shearing is done
+by electricity and not by hand, you know."
+
+"It is mean of me to make you answer questions, Sandy, when you are in
+such a hurry," Donald ventured hesitatingly, "but I wish you had time to
+explain to me about the shearing."
+
+Sandy was in a hurry--there was no denying that!
+
+He and Donald had driven down from Crescent that morning, and were to
+meet Thornton and Mr. Clark as soon as possible at the shed where the
+shearing was to be done. Nevertheless, in spite of his haste, Sandy
+tried as he went along to answer Donald's question.
+
+"There was a time long ago when all shearing was done by hand. In the
+spring bands of traveling shearers came from ranch to ranch and sheared
+the flocks for so much a day. Sometimes these men were Mexicans,
+sometimes Indians. As they made a business of shearing and nothing else
+they became verra skilful with the shears and could turn off many
+fleeces a day. It is an art to shear a sheep. Many a try must you have
+before you can do it. The smaller ranches still shear by hand, for it
+does not pay to run a power plant unless you have large flocks."
+
+"I suppose a power plant does the work quicker," suggested Donald.
+
+"No, I think good shearers can clip the fleeces almost as fast. The
+chief advantage in machinery is that it takes the wool off closer, and
+you do not need such skilled men to do the work. You just have to
+remember not to shear flocks this way in summer, for the wool would be
+cut so close that your sheep would be wild with flies and sunburn before
+their coats grew long enough to protect them."
+
+They had now reached the plant, where they were to meet Donald's father
+and Thornton; they mounted the steps of the low building and went in.
+Immediately they were greeted by the whirr of wheels, the chatter of
+many herders, and the blatting of sheep.
+
+Mr. Clark came forward.
+
+"Well, Don," he said, "this is quite a sight, isn't it?"
+
+"I should say it was! I had no idea shearing was done this way. It is
+just the way they clip horses or cut my hair."
+
+His father smiled.
+
+"Yes, it is done on the same principle. Let us watch this man here. He
+is just starting. I thought he would tie the feet of the sheep first,
+but he does not seem to be doing it; instead he is turning it up on its
+rump, and holding it with his left arm so its hoofs cannot touch the
+floor. They say sheep never kick or struggle if their feet are raised
+from the ground. Now he is starting with the shears. See! He is opening
+the wool by a cut down the right shoulder. How neatly the fleece comes
+off--almost in one piece, as if it was a jacket!"
+
+"I guess that was a smooth-skinned sheep," laughed Donald, "or the
+shearer never could have done it so quickly."
+
+The man who was shearing overheard him.
+
+"It was a smooth-skinned one," he called. "Still, even the wrinkly
+Merinos loose their coats pretty fast. Watch and see. I have one right
+here."
+
+Donald watched.
+
+It was fascinating.
+
+"I'd like to try it," he said glancing up at his father.
+
+"I guess you'd have trouble!"
+
+"I wouldn't mind the trouble if I wasn't afraid of cutting the sheep,"
+replied the boy.
+
+"Suppose you leave it until you come West the next time," called Sandy,
+who chanced to be passing and heard his words. "You mustn't do
+everything this trip, or you'll have nothing to look forward to when you
+come again."
+
+"Perhaps it's as well for the sheep!" grunted the Mexican who was
+shearing.
+
+[Illustration: "I'D LIKE TO TRY IT"]
+
+"I shouldn't wonder!" answered Donald good-naturedly.
+
+But what a charm there was in that crisp snip of the shears!
+
+At last, however, Donald and his father moved on to where crews of men
+were busy at smooth board tables.
+
+"What are they doing here?" Donald asked.
+
+"They are tying fleeces," explained Mr. Clark.
+
+"But don't they wash that dirty wool before they tie it up?" questioned
+the boy, astounded.
+
+Sandy, who had joined them for the moment, laughed at Donald's disgust.
+
+"You'd have us washing and ironing it, perhaps," he chuckled. "No, no!
+We used to wash all fleeces before they were clipped, 'tis true. But
+your father says that now buyers care little for them washed. Folks will
+pay about as much for good wool unwashed as washed. It is a lucky thing
+for us, because it saves us much trouble; more than that, it is better
+for the sheep not to be put through the water. The thick fleece stays
+damp for many days, and unless the creature is range-bred and therefore
+used to all weather it suffers a shock, and is liable to be sick. You
+can't shear a flock until about two weeks after washing, for not only
+must the fleece dry, but new yolk must form in the wool. If the wool is
+too dry the shears will not slip through it."
+
+"But by the end of two weeks I should think the sheep would have his
+fleece all dirty again," objected Donald.
+
+"That is just the point--he does."
+
+"Why couldn't you wash the fleece after it is taken off?"
+
+"We could. It is done sometimes. Your father can tell you that he sends
+off wool and has it scoured before selling it if a buyer wishes it
+done."
+
+Mr. Clark nodded.
+
+"But here," continued Sandy, "we wash no fleeces. We do take care,
+though, not to tie very dirty pieces in with the fleece. My father
+always insisted on the tying being honest. Only wool went into the
+bundle. You and your father must watch and see how quickly they do the
+tying."
+
+As Sandy flitted away again Mr. Clark and Donald made their way to the
+long table where the boys who went about among the shearers and
+collected the fleeces were tossing them down.
+
+Each fleece was spread out on the table, the belly and loose ends folded
+deftly inside; then the whole was fastened into a square bundle.
+
+"It would seem as if any twine would do to tie a package like that,
+wouldn't it, Don?" said Mr. Clark.
+
+"Of course."
+
+"It is not so," went on his father. "There is nothing about which a
+wool-grower has to be more careful than about the twine with which he
+ties his fleeces. You must always avoid using a fiber twine--by that I
+mean hemp, or any variety having fibers which will break off in the
+wool. These fibers or particles get stuck in the fleeces, and later when
+the wool reaches the mill, the mill people do not like it. Either the
+bits of hemp have to be picked out--an endless job--or the wool is sent
+back. You can see that they could not dye wool with all these little
+particles in it. The hemp would take a different color from the rest of
+the wool, and would result in specked goods."
+
+"What kind of twine do we use, father?" asked Donald, much interested.
+
+"We use a paper twine. Other growers often tie their fleeces with glazed
+twine."
+
+"I never should have thought twine could make so much trouble," mused
+the lad.
+
+"You would think of it, though, if you had once been set to picking
+fiber out of wool as I was when I was a boy!" interrupted Sandy, as he
+darted past.
+
+Donald and his father followed at the heels of the young Scotchman as he
+went through into another shed where the wool was being packed. Here lay
+great piles of tied fleeces and heaps of loose wool. About the shed
+stood wooden frames from the center of which swung burlap sacks used for
+packing the clip.
+
+"Why do the men first stuff the two lower corners of the bags with wool
+and tie them?" the boy asked after he had looked on a few moments.
+
+"We call those corners ears," replied his father. "Sacks of wool are not
+only awkward to handle but very heavy, and it is a help to have the
+corners, firmly tied, to take hold of."
+
+Donald nodded. He was too busy looking about him to reply.
+
+The men packing the wool took one of the burlap bags, fitted its mouth
+over a wooden hoop just the right size, and fastened the bag inside the
+frame in such a way that it hung its full length and just cleared the
+floor.
+
+Then the packer began tossing wool into the sack.
+
+When it was about half-full he jumped into it and tramped the fleeces
+down solidly.
+
+Afterward he climbed out and another man wheeled a truck under the
+frame; then the packer freed the sack, and when it dropped it was
+promptly sewed up and wheeled to the scales, where it was weighed. Its
+weight was entered in a book by a man who kept the tally and the same
+figures were also roughly painted on the bag.
+
+"And there's the end of it!" exclaimed Sandy, who came up and stood
+beside Donald as Mr. Clark walked away. "Now you know the wool business,
+Don!"
+
+Donald shook his head.
+
+"It will take me longer than this to know the wool business," he
+answered. "I mean when we get home, though, to get father to tell me the
+rest of it--about the selling and manufacturing."
+
+"That part would be new to me too," said Sandy. "Here we have no
+selling; we do not even auction off our own wool, as you see, for our
+clip goes direct to our owners. But when a ranch sells its wool to other
+buyers the manager has lively days, I can tell you. Both Anchor and Star
+Ranch sell to brokers. They send out word that they have wool for sale
+and the Eastern buyers swarm here like flies. They bid on the wool--bid
+right against each other, even though sometimes they are the best of
+friends. The men get an idea of the price they want to pay by looking
+over the fleeces and seeing how they will grade up. Above everything
+else a wool buyer must have a trained eye, quick to detect the quality
+of the shipment offered for sale. That is what decides him on how high
+he will bid. After the buyers have got up to what they consider a
+reasonable price they stop bidding. The wool-grower must then accept the
+highest bid."
+
+"But he may not be satisfied with the price," put in Donald.
+
+"It makes no difference. They are supposed to make a fair bid on the
+clip."
+
+"What if he shouldn't take it?"
+
+"Why, then all the brokers who have bid on the wool leave town pledging
+each other not to bid on that particular shipment of wool for two
+weeks," replied Sandy.
+
+"Why?" inquired Donald, opening his eyes.
+
+"It is to protect the brokers. You can see the justice in it when you
+think a moment. These Easterners are busy men and they come a long way.
+They can't take a trip to some far-off ranch only to find the
+wool-grower has decided not to sell his fleeces; or that he will not
+sell them below a certain price. If a man really does not want to sell
+he must not get the buyers there; if he does he must be content with
+what they offer. Your father would have to buy his wool this way if he
+did not own Crescent Ranch; and even so he may send men to buy wool at
+outside ranches too, for all I know."
+
+"I am going to ask him," Donald said.
+
+"Do not ask him now. He might not want to talk his business over here.
+Wait until you get back East."
+
+"I hate to think of going back home, Sandy," the boy declared, regret in
+his tones.
+
+"All good things must come to an end, lad. You will go back, finish your
+schooling, go to college as your father wishes, and then, a gentleman
+grown, you will be choosing some work."
+
+Sandy studied Donald keenly.
+
+"Yes, I suppose that is just what I shall do. I am thinking some of
+studying law, Sandy."
+
+The Scotchman's face fell, but Donald did not notice it.
+
+"I've always thought I should like to stand up in court and make a great
+plea--a speech that would sweep people off their feet," went on Donald.
+"Or," he added reflectively, "I may be a judge."
+
+Sandy scratched his head.
+
+"There's a good bit step between studying law and being a judge," said
+he.
+
+"Perhaps after all I may decide not to be a judge," ruminated Donald. "I
+have always wanted to manage a baseball team and I may think I would
+rather do that."
+
+"Go on with you!" Sandy cried. "Next you'll be having yourself a
+lighthouse-keeper." Then he added wistfully: "But no matter what you
+are, laddie, dinna forget Crescent Ranch."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+HOME TO THE EAST
+
+
+Within two weeks Thornton, Mr. Clark, and Donald were back in
+Massachusetts, and the thread of Eastern life was once more taken up.
+
+Donald did not return to school, since it was now so near June that to
+enter the class seemed useless; instead it was decided that he should
+have a tutor through the summer to help him make up the work he had
+lost, and thereby enable him to go on with his class in the fall. This
+tutor, however, had to be found, and until he was the boy was free from
+duties of every sort. It gave him a strange sense of loneliness to be
+with nothing to do. All his friends were in school--there was no one to
+play with.
+
+"I think I'll go in to the office with you, father," he suggested one
+morning. "It is stupid staying round in Cambridge when all the fellows
+are slaving for their exams. I have been so busy while out on the ranch
+that now I do not know what to do with myself."
+
+Mr. Clark agreed to the proposal cordially.
+
+In consequence it came about that Donald joined Thornton at the large
+Boston warehouse. The store was not new to the boy, for he had often
+been there with his father; but to Thornton this part of the wool
+business was as novel as the first glimpses of ranching had been to
+Donald. The high building of yellow brick with floor after floor of
+hurrying men, the offices noisy with the hum of typewriters, the ring of
+telephones, the comings and goings of messenger-boys and
+mail-carriers--all this little universe of rush and confusion was an
+untried world to Thornton. Its strangeness dazed him.
+
+Mr. Clark promptly placed him in the accounting department, but to his
+surprise Thornton foundered there helplessly. It was one thing to keep
+books amid the quiet and leisure of Crescent Ranch, and quite another to
+struggle with columns of figures in the riot of modern business
+surroundings. At the end of three days the Westerner looked gray and
+tired, and had accomplished nothing.
+
+"I don't know what I am going to do with him, Don," announced Mr. Clark,
+much troubled. "I have brought him here from Idaho, and of course I am
+bound to look out for him; yet there does not seem to be an earthly
+thing he can do. My plan was to set him to keeping books in Cook's
+place, and send Cook out to Crescent Ranch to help Sandy. Sandy, you
+know, cannot handle accounts. Poor lad--he had little opportunity for
+schooling in his youth, and the financial side of his work is his one
+weak spot. He realizes this himself, and it was only on the condition
+that I send him an assistant that he would undertake the management of
+the ranch at all. I expected, as I say, that Cook would go; evidently,
+however, Thornton is not going to be able to fill his place. What shall
+I do with Thornton, Don? We must find a niche for him somehow."
+
+Donald reflected a moment.
+
+"Had you thought, father, of trying him up-stairs?" he asked.
+
+"No, I hadn't. We need a foreman up there, but I had not considered
+Thornton for the position. That is a happy inspiration, son. We will
+give him a try. He may make good yet."
+
+Accordingly Thornton was sent to the upper floors of the warehouse,
+where the wool was stored. Here were great piles of loose wool reaching
+from floor to ceiling. Some piles contained only the finest wool; other
+piles that which was next-best in quality; still other piles were made
+up of the coarser varieties. There were piles of scoured wool, piles of
+South American and Australian wool--wool, wool, wool everywhere!
+
+With keen interest Thornton looked about him. He wandered from one vast
+pyramid of fleeces to another, catching up handfuls of the different
+varieties and examining them. Then he walked to where the men were busy
+opening the first spring shipments of wool from Crescent Ranch. The
+wool was emptied from the sacks onto the floor in great heaps, and crews
+of men--skilled in judging the fiber--set to work to sort it, separating
+the different qualities into piles. Donald, who was looking on, saw a
+smile pass over Thornton's face--the first smile that had brightened it
+in days. Then, almost instinctively, the ranchman rolled up his sleeves
+and began to grade wool with the other men. He worked rapidly, for he
+was thoroughly familiar with what he was doing.
+
+The next day when Donald went up-stairs he found Thornton directing a
+lot of green hands who were packing the sorted, or graded wool, in bags.
+Later in the week it chanced that the man who weighed the wool fell ill
+and the Westerner took his place at the scales, seeing that the sacks of
+wool were correctly weighed and recorded, that they were sewed up
+strongly, and marked for shipping.
+
+Gradually the men, recognizing Thornton's ability, began to defer to his
+judgment. The month was not out before Clark & Sons began to wonder
+what they had done before Thornton came. So familiar did he make himself
+with the stock that even Mr. Clark sent for and consulted him about
+orders and shipments.
+
+"He is proving himself a thoroughly useful man, Don," declared Mr. Clark
+rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "His knowledge of the ranch and of
+the wool itself is invaluable. It is just a case of putting the peg into
+the proper hole. Thornton was like a fish out of water here in the
+office. Now he is in his element. I shall make him foreman of the
+shipping department--a position just suited to him, and which he will
+fill well."
+
+"I am so glad he has made good, father," said Donald. "Now, what are you
+going to do about an assistant for Sandy? That is the next question to
+settle, I suppose. Have you found any one?"
+
+"Not yet. I have had a great deal to do, Don. I shall, however, look up
+some one as soon as possible. In the meantime, before you start in with
+your tutor, and Thornton gets so rushed that he cannot be spared, I want
+to take you both to Mortonstown to visit the Monitor Mills. Thornton
+has never seen the manufacture of woolen goods and will be the more
+intelligent for doing so; as for you, I am anxious to have you complete
+the story of wool-growing which you began at Crescent Ranch. To stop
+short of visiting a mill now would be like reading the opening chapters
+of a book and never finishing the volume."
+
+"I do want to know the rest of the story very much, father," Donald
+replied. "I told Sandy when I was out West that I hoped you would some
+time take me to a mill. Since we got home, though, you have been so busy
+that I did not like to ask you."
+
+"That was thoughtful of you, son. Ordinarily I should have preferred to
+wait; it chances, however, that something has come up which obliges me
+to see the Monitor people right away. So I shall go out there to-morrow,
+taking Thornton with me, and if you like you may go also."
+
+"Of course I'd like!" exclaimed Donald eagerly.
+
+The next day proved to be so gloriously clear that instead of making
+the trip to Mortonstown by train Mr. Clark decided to run out in his
+touring-car. It was not a long ride--something over twenty-five
+miles--but to Thornton, unaccustomed to the luxury of a modern
+automobile, the journey was one of unalloyed delight.
+
+"It is like riding in a sitting-room on wheels, isn't it?" he murmured
+with a sigh of satisfaction.
+
+"Some day you will be having a car of your own, Thornton," Mr. Clark
+said, smiling.
+
+"And riding to Idaho in it," put in Donald.
+
+"Well, it is about the smoothest way I ever traveled!" declared the
+ranchman. "When we came East I thought that sleeping-car close to a
+moving palace; but this thing has the train beaten to a frazzle. You see
+I am used to jolting over rough roads in springless wagons, and it is
+something new to me to go along as if I was sliding down-hill on a
+velvet sofa-cushion."
+
+Donald and his father heartily enjoyed the big fellow's pleasure.
+
+As for Thornton, when the car came to a stop before the puffing
+Mortonstown mills it was with regret that he dragged himself from the
+seat. Still, he had the ride home in anticipation--that was a comforting
+thought.
+
+Once within the mills, however, even the memory of the homeward journey
+faded from his mind. The vast buildings throbbing with the beat of
+engines, the click and whirr of bobbins, and the clash of machinery,
+blotted out everything else.
+
+When they entered Mr. Munger, the manager, who was expecting them, came
+forward cordially.
+
+"We were glad to hear by telephone that you were coming out to-day, Mr.
+Clark," he said. "Mr. Bailey, the president, is waiting to see you in
+his private office."
+
+"Very well," answered Mr. Clark. "Now while I am talking with him I
+should greatly appreciate it if my son Donald, and my foreman, Mr.
+Thornton, might go over the works. They have never visited a woolen
+mill."
+
+"We shall be delighted to show them about," answered Mr. Munger. "I will
+send some one with them."
+
+Turning, the manager beckoned to a young man who was busy at a desk.
+
+"This gentleman," continued he, "has been with us many years and will be
+able to answer all your questions. Take these visitors through the
+factory, Mac, show them everything, and bring them back here. Now if you
+are ready, Mr. Clark, we will join Mr. Bailey."
+
+Donald and Thornton moved away, following their guide into a building
+just across the yard. Here wool was being sorted by staplers who were
+expert in judging its quality. They worked at frames covered with wire
+netting which allowed the dirt to sift through, and as they handled the
+material and tossed it into the proper piles they picked out straws,
+burrs, and other waste caught in it.
+
+"This sorting must be carefully done," explained the bookkeeper who was
+showing them about, "or the wool will not take the dye well. Much
+depends on having the fleeces clear of waste. We also are very
+particular about the sorting. The finest wool, as you know, comes from
+the sides of the sheep; that clipped from the head and legs is coarse
+and stiff. All this we separate before we send the fleeces on to be
+scoured. In this next room you will see how the material is washed."
+
+They passed on and next saw how steam was blown through the wool, not
+only removing the dirt but softening the fibers. The fleeces were also
+washed in many great bowls of soap and water.
+
+"Here again we must exercise great care that the water is clean and the
+soap pure, or the wool will not dye perfectly. We use a kind of potash
+soap which we are sure is of the best make. Another thing which renders
+the scouring of wool difficult is that we must not curl or snarl it
+while we are washing it."
+
+"I don't see how you can help it," Donald said.
+
+"We can if we take proper care," returned the bookkeeper.
+
+"And what is this other machine for?" inquired Thornton, pointing to one
+at the end of the room.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT IS THIS OTHER MACHINE?"]
+
+"That machine is picking the wool apart so that the air can get through
+it and help it to dry. After it is picked up light and fluffy we pass
+it through these heavy rollers, which are like wringers and which
+squeeze out the remaining moisture. Yet during all these processes we
+must always be careful not to snarl the wool. See, here is where it
+comes out white and clean, ready to go to the dyeing room."
+
+Donald regarded the snowy fleeces with wonder.
+
+"You would never dream it could be the same wool!" he said. "Isn't it
+beautiful? It is not much the way it looks when it leaves the ranch, is
+it, Thornton?"
+
+"I should say not," agreed the Westerner emphatically. "The sheep ought
+to see how handsome their coats are."
+
+"So they should!" answered the young bookkeeper. "You have been on a
+ranch then?"
+
+"We have just come from one," Donald answered.
+
+"Have you, indeed! It is a free life--not much like being shut up inside
+brick walls."
+
+"You have been West yourself, perhaps," ventured Thornton.
+
+"Yes, years ago--when I was a boy; but not recently."
+
+"Ah, you should see the sheep country now!" Thornton went on. "It is
+much improved, I reckon, since you were there."
+
+"I imagine so," the young guide answered with a wistful smile. "It is so
+long since I have had a breath of real air that I have almost forgotten
+how it would seem."
+
+"If you are wanting fresh air go out on the ranges and fill your lungs.
+You will find plenty there," declared the ranchman.
+
+"That is just what they are trying to make me do," the young man
+replied, "I have not been very well this year and Mr. Munger thinks the
+confinement in the mill is telling on me. He wants me to go West for a
+vacation."
+
+"And should you like to?" questioned Donald.
+
+The man did not answer; instead he said:
+
+"Suppose we go on. We must not waste too much time here. In this next
+room you will see how the dyeing is done. We use centrifugal machines,
+and beside those we have these others to keep the wool spread and
+turned. With all our care not to snarl or curl it, it will get matted
+and must therefore be picked apart again. So we pass it through these
+revolving drums which, you see, have sets of spikes on them; as the
+spikes on the different drums turn they catch in the wool and pick it
+all apart so it is again light and fluffy as it was before."
+
+"Doesn't so much washing and dyeing take out all the yolk, and make the
+wool very dry?" inquired Thornton.
+
+The young man conducting them seemed pleased at the question.
+
+"Yes, it does! That is just the trouble. Therefore we are forced to set
+about getting some oil back into it; otherwise it would be so harsh and
+stiff that we could do nothing with it. So we put the thin layers of
+wool into these machines and carry them along to a spraying apparatus
+which sprays them evenly with oil. We use olive oil, but some other
+manufacturers prefer lard oil or oleine."
+
+"How funny to have to put oil back into the wool after you have just
+washed it out!" Donald remarked.
+
+"It is funny, isn't it?" nodded the bookkeeper. "Now on this side of the
+room they are blending the fleeces. Sometimes we blend different
+qualities of wool to get a desired effect, or sometimes we blend the
+wool with cotton or a different fiber. We take a thin layer of wool,
+then put another layer of a different kind over it. We then pick it all
+up together until we get a uniform mixture."
+
+"It is a surprise to me that the wool has to go through so much red tape
+before it comes to spinning," Thornton said.
+
+"It is a long process," responded their guide. "I remember when I first
+saw it, it seemed endless. Now I think little of it."
+
+"We get used to everything in time, I suppose," Thornton answered; then
+he added whimsically: "Still, I don't think I should ever get used to
+riding in an automobile."
+
+A hearty laugh came from behind them, and turning they saw Mr. Clark and
+Mr. Munger, the manager.
+
+"I came to hunt you up," said Mr. Clark. "I have finished my interview
+with Mr. Bailey, and it seemed to me that by this time you must have
+finished spinning your next-winter's overcoat, Don."
+
+"But I haven't, father," retorted Donald, smiling into his father's
+face. "I have not even begun to make the cloth at all."
+
+"The yarn is not spun yet, sir," put in the young man who was with them.
+
+"You are a slow guide, Mac, I fear," Mr. Munger laughed, laying a kindly
+hand on his bookkeeper's shoulder. "That is the chief fault with you
+Scotchmen--you are too thorough. Now let us hurry along. These gentlemen
+must get back to Boston to-day, you know."
+
+Mr. Munger bustled ahead, conducting his visitors across a bridge and
+into the next mill.
+
+Here was the carding room. Layers of wool entered the carding engine and
+were combed by a multitude of wire teeth until all the fibers lay
+parallel; the thin film of wool then passed into a cone-like opening and
+came out later in a thick strand of untwisted fibers.
+
+"It is now ready to go to the drawing-frames," Mr. Munger explained.
+"You will notice how these drawing-frames pull the wool into shape for
+twisting and spinning, drawing it out to uniform size and finally
+winding it on bobbins. The machine is a complicated one to explain, but
+you can watch and see what it does."
+
+"How wonderful it is that machinery can do all this work," Mr. Clark
+observed thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes, it is," Mr. Munger agreed. "Years ago every part of the process
+was done by hand. Little by little, however, machines have been
+perfected until now we have contrivances that seem almost human. Shall
+we go now and see the yarn spun?"
+
+When they reached the spinning room with its clatter of shifting bobbins
+Mr. Munger turned to Donald.
+
+"I wonder if you know," he said, "that wool is worked into two different
+kinds of yarn--worsted yarn and woolen yarn. The fibers for worsted yarn
+are long and lie nearly parallel, and when woven result in a smooth
+surface. Broadcloth is made from worsted yarn. Woolen yarn, on the
+other hand, has its fibers lying in every direction and all these loose
+ends, when woven, give a rough surface. Of course after the cloth is
+milled it comes out smooth, but it is not as smooth and fine as a
+worsted cloth."
+
+"I think I understand," Donald said. "Are we to see the cloth woven
+next?"
+
+"Yes. You know we weave nothing but woolens; you must go to a worsted
+mill to see the other kinds of cloth made. The processes, though, are
+much alike."
+
+Mr. Munger then hurried the party to the weaving mills, where amid an
+uproar of thousands of moving wheels, bobbins, and shuttles the threads
+of yarn traveled back and forth, back and forth, and came out of the
+looms as cloth. The cloth was then steamed, pressed, and rolled or
+folded.
+
+"And now, young man," announced Mr. Munger to Donald jestingly, "you
+have seen the whole process, and there is no reason why your father
+should not give you some wool and let you make your own cloth for your
+next suit of clothes."
+
+Although Donald was very tired he tried to smile.
+
+"I think," he said, "that I would rather grow the wool on the ranch than
+make it into cloth here. It is far nicer out on the ranges."
+
+"That is what I am trying to tell my young assistant," agreed Mr.
+Munger. "He is getting fagged, aren't you, Mac? You see he was brought
+up in the open country, and much as we think of him, we feel that he
+should go back to the Western mountains."
+
+"Oh, I am all right, Mr. Munger," the bookkeeper hastened to say. "Just
+a bit tired, perhaps--that is all."
+
+"If you are tired you should try the ranges of Idaho," Mr. Clark said.
+"My boy, here, and myself have recently returned from a year in the
+sheep country and feel like new men, don't we, Don? Undoubtedly the life
+there may not be as gay as in the city; still--to quote my manager,
+Sandy McCulloch, 'with bears, bob-cats, and coyotes, I dinna see how it
+could ever be dull.'"
+
+So perfectly had Mr. Clark imitated Sandy's voice and accent that
+Thornton and Donald both laughed. Then they stopped suddenly.
+
+The young bookkeeper had turned very pale and was eying them with a
+startled face.
+
+"Sandy McCulloch!" he repeated. "Did you say Sandy McCulloch, sir?"
+
+"Yes, Sandy McCulloch," answered Mr. Clark. "Do you know him?"
+
+"He must be of your kin, Mac!" interrupted Mr. Munger. "This lad,
+strangely enough, is a McCulloch himself--Douglas McCulloch."
+
+"Then you must be--you are Sandy's brother!" cried Donald.
+
+The young man swayed a little and put out his hand to steady himself.
+
+It seemed to Donald as if he would never speak.
+
+When he did his voice was tremulous with emotion.
+
+"Yes," he replied almost in a whisper. "I am Sandy's brother. Tell me of
+Sandy and of my father."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+DONALD DECIDES
+
+
+It was a wonderful story, Donald thought.
+
+He was never tired of living over how, in visiting the Mortonstown
+mills, they had so unexpectedly found Douglas McCulloch; how, because of
+ill health, he was on the point of going West; and how, with Mr.
+Munger's permission, Mr. Clark had offered him the position as Sandy's
+assistant at Crescent Ranch. It was little short of a miracle that it
+had all come about!
+
+It was interesting, too, to hear what 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 to be a great help to him in his work."
+
+"I am so thankful that I can," replied the younger brother. "Think of
+going once more to Idaho and running that great ranch with him! It is
+more than I deserve."
+
+"Make the most of your good fortune, Douglas," Mr. Clark said, "and do
+not disappoint Sandy and me."
+
+"I will try, sir!" was the humble response.
+
+Douglas McCulloch was as good as his word.
+
+From the moment he and Sandy were united at Crescent Ranch he threw
+himself heart and soul into his new work. The charm of the hills stole
+over him with a fascination they had never held in those far-off days
+when he was a restless boy, eager for the excitement of city life.
+Douglas had had his fling, and he returned to the vast Western land
+older and wiser.
+
+Together he and Sandy set about improving the ranch. They subscribed to
+magazines on sheep-raising; they visited other ranches and kept abreast
+of the times; they installed newer and more hygienic methods of
+wool-growing. Never had Crescent Ranch been so perfectly run. With two
+intelligent and unwearying young men at its head it bid fair to outshine
+the fame it had possessed in Old Angus's day. Gradually men interested
+in sheeping came from far and near to visit it. Clark & Sons began to be
+very proud to be the owners of such a treasure.
+
+Thornton, in the meantime, had become Mr. Clark's right hand man at the
+Eastern office. From foreman he had worked up to being superintendent,
+and had then been promoted to traveling for the firm and selling wool.
+His devotion to Mr. Clark and everything that concerned him was
+unfailing.
+
+During these years Donald had completed his school work; had taken his
+four years at college; and loyal to his early ambition, had entered the
+Law School. If it was a disappointment to his father for him to choose
+the law instead of a business career Mr. Clark did not say so. He kept
+closely in touch with the boy's studies and was proud of the future
+before him.
+
+It was just as everything seemed to be moving so ideally that the first
+great calamity fell upon Clark & Sons. One morning a telegram came from
+Sandy saying that a big fire had swept the ranch, leveling to the ground
+house, barns, and sheep-pens. The blaze had come about through no one's
+carelessness. Lightning had struck the central barn, and before aid
+could be summoned the entire place had been destroyed.
+
+Fortunately no one had been injured. The herders, together with their
+flocks, were on the range; and the crops of alfalfa had not been cut and
+were therefore saved.
+
+"It might have been much worse, Don," said Mr. Clark in reviewing the
+situation. "We have lost no men, no sheep, no hay, no wool. Suppose the
+fire had come in shearing time and had destroyed all the fleeces; or
+suppose the blaze had come about through carelessness and Sandy and
+Douglas had had themselves to blame for it. As it is, it is nobody's
+fault--I am glad of that--and nothing has been lost but can be restored.
+The buildings are well covered by insurance and can be rebuilt during
+the summer. The chief trouble is that all this has happened at a time
+when I am very busy. I ought to go to Idaho, but I hardly see----"
+
+"Can't I go, father?" interrupted Donald quickly. "I don't see why I
+couldn't adjust the insurance and help about having new buildings put
+up. Sandy and Douglas have good judgment, and before I started you could
+tell me just what you want done. Besides," he added shyly, "I am now
+through my first year at the Law School and have some little knowledge
+of legal affairs--that is, I know more than I used to."
+
+Mr. Clark beamed.
+
+"You could go in my place perfectly well, Don, if you are willing to
+give up your summer vacation to it. It would certainly be a great help.
+But how about those house-parties you had planned for?"
+
+"I can decline those, father. I'd be glad to go!" was Donald's reply. "I
+always promised Sandy I would come West again some time, and I should
+really enjoy another glimpse of the hills."
+
+So it was arranged.
+
+Within two days Donald was speeding West, and almost before he realized
+it he was back at Crescent Ranch.
+
+Then came letters for Mr. Clark.
+
+The insurance was adjusted and with the aid of the McCullochs, Donald
+was drawing up plans for new barns--barns with cement floors, and far
+better ventilated and equipped than the old ones had been. Almost every
+day brought to the Eastern office pages and pages of sketches for
+sheep-folds and modern contrivances for lessening the labor of
+wool-growing. Every line of these letters bubbled with enthusiasm. There
+could be no possible question that Donald's heart was in every word he
+wrote.
+
+Summer passed and the time for the beginning of the college term drew
+near.
+
+Mr. Clark began to look for the boy's return.
+
+Still there was no Donald!
+
+Then came another letter:
+
+                 _Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho._
+
+    DEAR FATHER:
+
+    You have been so generous in letting me follow out my own wishes as
+    to my future, that I hardly know how to write you. I hope you will
+    not be disappointed when you hear what I am going to say. The fact
+    is, dad, after thinking the matter well over I have changed my mind
+    about studying law. I have become tremendously interested in
+    Crescent Ranch and in wool-growing, and I am wild to jump into the
+    work.
+
+    If I thought you approved I should like to stay out here and see the
+    buildings finished and then go to Kansas City with Sandy to select
+    more sheep. If, however, you wish me to continue my law course I am
+    perfectly willing to come East and take my degree.
+
+    Please wire.
+
+    Affectionately your son,
+                  DONALD CLARK.
+
+Donald's father read the letter twice. Then he called his stenographer.
+
+"Lawson," he said briskly, "I want to dictate a telegram and have you
+get it off right away. Here is the message:
+
+    "_Mr. Donald Clark,
+        Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho._
+
+    "Cut out the law. Take up sheeping. Three cheers for you!
+
+    "(Signed) WILLARD PAYSON CLARK.
+
+"Now repeat the message."
+
+The stenographer did so.
+
+Mr. Clark chuckled aloud.
+
+"That is O. K., Lawson. Send it along as soon as possible. Oh, and
+Lawson--here is a gold-piece which goes with that telegram. Keep it in
+memory of this day, for it is the happiest one of my life. Mr. Donald is
+coming into Clark & Sons!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24858-8.txt or 24858-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/5/24858/
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/24858-8.zip b/24858-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..55f98d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-8.zip
diff --git a/24858-h.zip b/24858-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..feca4c6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h.zip
diff --git a/24858-h/24858-h.htm b/24858-h/24858-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8577e24
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/24858-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,5020 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" lang="en" xml:lang="en" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Story Of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+
+    h1,h2 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+        }
+    h1,h2  {padding-top: 2em;}
+    h2  {line-height: 1.5em;
+         padding-bottom: 2em;}
+
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 10%;
+               margin-right: 15%;}
+
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+                /*visibility: hidden;*/
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 3%;
+                font-size: 10px;
+                font-weight: normal;
+                font-variant: normal;
+                font-style: normal;
+                letter-spacing: normal;
+                text-indent: 0em;
+                text-align: right;
+                } /* page numbers */
+
+    .titlepage   {text-align: center;
+                  line-height: 2em;
+                  margin-top: 3em;
+                 }
+
+    hr { margin-top: 2em;
+         margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+         width: 45%;}
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+    .i        {font-style: italic;}
+    .right    {text-align: right;}
+
+    .dedent   { margin-right: 6em;}
+    .dedent2  { margin-right: 3em;}
+    .indent   { margin-left: 3em;}
+
+    .caption  {font-weight: bold;
+               text-align: center;}
+
+    .pad      {padding-top: 2em;
+               padding-bottom: 2em;}
+
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto;
+                  text-align: center;}
+    .figchapter  {margin: auto;
+                  text-align: center;
+                  padding-top: 5em;}
+
+    .figleft     {float: left;
+                  clear: left;
+                  margin-left: 0;
+                  margin-bottom: 1em;
+                  margin-top: 0;
+                  margin-right: 1em;
+                  padding: 0;
+                  text-align: center;}
+
+
+
+    ul.toc            {list-style-type: upper-roman;}
+    ul.toc li         {font-variant: small-caps;}
+    .ralign           {position: absolute;
+                      right: 20%}
+    .divtoc           {margin-left: 10%}
+
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Story of Wool
+
+Author: Sara Ware Bassett
+
+Illustrator: Elizabeth Otis
+
+Release Date: March 17, 2008 [EBook #24858]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+    <img src="images/frontispiece.png" width="400" height="541"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">"HAVE OUR SHEEP ALWAYS BEEN DIPPED?"</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1>The Story of
+Wool</h1>
+
+<p class="titlepage">BY<br />
+SARA WARE BASSETT</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage">Author of "The Story of Lumber" and
+"The Story of Leather"</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage">ILLUSTRATED BY<br />
+ELIZABETH OTIS</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage">THE PENN PUBLISHING
+COMPANY PHILADELPHIA</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage">COPYRIGHT<br />
+1913 BY<br />
+THE PENN<br />
+PUBLISHING<br />
+COMPANY</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage i">To<br />
+MY FATHER</p>
+
+<div class="pad" style="margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 30%;">
+<p class="i">It gives me pleasure to acknowledge the courtesy and co&ouml;peration of the
+United States Department of Agriculture.</p>
+<p class="right i">S. W. B.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2>
+
+<div class="divtoc">
+<ul class="toc">
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_I">A Mysterious Telegram</a> <span class="ralign">9</span></li>
+<li><a href="#Chapter_II">Who Sandy Was</a> <span class="ralign">27</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Dipping</a> <span class="ralign">36</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Sandy Gives Donald a Lesson</a> <span class="ralign">56</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Thornton Has a Reprimand</a> <span class="ralign">70</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">Donald's First Adventure On the Range</a> <span class="ralign">82</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">A Narrow Escape</a> <span class="ralign">103</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Donald Has a Surprise</a> <span class="ralign">122</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">A Second Adventure</a> <span class="ralign">136</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_X">A Prediction That Came True</a> <span class="ralign">152</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">The Shearing</a> <span class="ralign">165</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">Home to the East</a> <span class="ralign">183</span></li>
+<li><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">Donald Decides</a> <span class="ralign">204</span></li>
+</ul>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"> [9]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>THE STORY OF WOOL</h1>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I<br />
+A MYSTERIOUS TELEGRAM</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/dsheep.png" width="150" height="173"
+     alt="" />
+Donald Clark glanced up from his Latin grammar and watched his father as
+he tore open the envelope of a telegram and ran his eye over its
+contents. Evidently the message was puzzling. Again Mr. Clark read it.
+Donald wondered what it could be. All the afternoon the yellow envelope
+had been on the table, and more than once his mind had wandered from the
+lessons he was preparing to speculate on the possible tidings wrapped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"> [10]</a></span>
+up in that sealed packet. Not that a telegram was an unheard-of event in
+the family. No, his father received many; most of them, however, went to
+the Boston office, and the boy could not imagine what this one was doing
+at their Cambridge home.</p>
+
+<p>The moment his father entered the house Donald handed him the envelope
+and Mr. Clark quickly stripped it open; yet even though it now lay
+spread out before him the mystery it contained appeared to be unsolved.
+It was seldom that Donald asked questions, nevertheless he found himself
+wondering and wondering what it was that had brought that odd little
+wrinkle into his father's forehead. Donald understood that wrinkle; he
+had seen it many times and knew it never came unless some question arose
+to which it was difficult to frame an answer. As his father and he had
+lived alone together ever since he could remember they had grown to know
+each other very well, and had become the best of friends. It therefore
+followed that when one worried, both worried.</p>
+
+<p>As the boy looked on, his father glanced up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"> [11]</a></span> suddenly and caught sight
+of the anxiety mirrored in his face. The man smiled kindly.</p>
+
+<p>"I can find no answer to this riddle, Don," he said. "Listen! Perhaps
+you can help me. A few days ago I received word from Crescent Ranch that
+Johnson, our manager, had been thrown from his horse while out on the
+range and so badly hurt that he will never again be able to continue his
+work with us. They have taken him to the hospital at Glen City. The
+letter came from Tom Thornton, the head herder at the ranch. Thornton
+assured me that everything was going well, and that there was not the
+slightest need for me to come to Idaho."</p>
+
+<p>Donald listened.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to-day I received this telegram. It is neither from Johnson nor
+Thornton. It reads:</p>
+
+<p>"'You would do well to visit Crescent Ranch,' and it is signed&mdash;'Sandy
+McCulloch.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Who is Sandy McCulloch?" asked Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the puzzle! I do not know. I never heard of any such person in
+my life&mdash;not that I remember. Evidently, though, he knows enough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"> [12]</a></span> about
+me to know that I own that sheep ranch, and to think that I ought to go
+out there and see it. I do not understand it at all. What do you make of
+it, son?"</p>
+
+<p>Donald thought carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you suppose anything is wrong on the ranch?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed! Thornton wrote particularly that everything was all right.
+He was Johnson's assistant, and he ought to know. Besides, he has been
+with us a long time, and is thoroughly familiar with every part of the
+work."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe it's a joke," ventured Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be a stupid sort of joke to get me from Boston to Idaho on a
+wild-goose chase. No, there is no joke about this," went on Mr. Clark,
+rising and pacing the floor. "Sandy McCulloch is real, and he has some
+real reason for wanting me to go to Crescent Ranch. I think I shall take
+his advice and go."</p>
+
+<p>Donald was astounded. His father never left home.</p>
+
+<p>"And the office?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"> [13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Uncle Harold will have to do double duty while I am gone."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and&mdash;I?" inquired the boy hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>Idaho seemed very far away&mdash;quite at the other end of the world.</p>
+
+<p>"You? Oh, you'll have to go along too! I shall need you."</p>
+
+<p>Donald drew a long breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see," continued his father, "this is the end of March, isn't it?
+Your spring term is about over. I happen to know you are well up in your
+work, for I met Mr. Hurlbert, the high school principal, only yesterday.
+I am sure that if you fall behind by going on this trip you will study
+all the harder to make up the work when you get back, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir!" was the emphatic promise.</p>
+
+<p>"You see I've no idea how long I shall be detained out West, therefore I
+have no mind to leave you here. You might be ill. Besides, I should miss
+you, Don."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd much rather go with you, father."</p>
+
+<p>A quick light of pleasure flashed in the father's eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"> [14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then that's settled," he exclaimed decisively. "Now I'll tell you what I
+mean to do. I am not going to wire Crescent Ranch that we are coming.
+Instead we will drop down and surprise them. It won't take long to see
+how things are running, and even if it proves that everything is all
+right I shall not begrudge the trip, for I have felt for some time that
+I ought to go. Clark &amp; Sons have owned that ranch for thirty years, and
+yet I have never been near it. It certainly is time I went."</p>
+
+<p>"How did it happen you never did go, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, during your grandfather's life an old Scotchman managed the ranch
+and attended to shipping the wool. As we had nothing to do but to sell
+it, we did not bother much about the place, for we had perfect
+confidence in Old Angus, the manager. After your grandfather died, Uncle
+Harold and I had all we could do to attend to the business here. It grew
+so rapidly that it was about as much as two young fellows like ourselves
+could handle. We always meant to go out&mdash;one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"> [15]</a></span> of us&mdash;but we never did.
+Then our faithful Scotchman died. We felt lost, I can tell you! He had
+had all the management of Crescent for twenty years and was one of the
+finest men in the world. He might have lived until now, perhaps, had he
+not been caught on the range in a blizzard while struggling to get a
+flock of sheep out of the storm and thereby lost his life."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark paused a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"After him came Johnson. He has done his work well, so far as we know;
+but now he is out of the running too and we shall have to get some one
+else."</p>
+
+<p>"Whom are you going to get?"</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't the most remote idea. You see, Don, I know next to nothing
+about managing a ranch. I stay here in Boston and simply sell wool. This
+end of the business I know thoroughly, but the other end is Greek to
+me."</p>
+
+<p>Donald laughed. He was just beginning Greek.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you don't know about a ranch, father," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"> [16]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, because you seem to know almost everything else, and it is fun to
+find something you don't know."</p>
+
+<p>There was admiration in the boy's words.</p>
+
+<p>His father shook his head and there was a shadow of sadness in his smile
+as he replied:</p>
+
+<p>"I know very little, Donald boy. The older I grow the less I know, too.
+You will feel that way when you are my age. Now here is a chance for us
+to learn something together. Let's go to Idaho and find out all we can
+about sheep-raising."</p>
+
+<p>Within the next few days the plans for the journey were completed.</p>
+
+<p>As one article after another was purchased and packed the trip unfolded
+into a most alluring pilgrimage. They must take their riding togs, for
+Uncle Harold reminded them that they would probably be in the saddle
+much of the time; their camping kit must go also; above all they must
+carry good revolvers and rifles. Donald's heart beat high. He and his
+father had always ridden a great deal together; it was their favorite
+sport.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"> [17]</a></span> Now they were to have whole days of it. And added to this
+pleasure was the crowning glory of both a rifle and a revolver!</p>
+
+<p>All this fairy-land of the future had come about through Sandy
+McCulloch!</p>
+
+<p>Who was this wonderful Sandy? And why had he telegraphed?</p>
+
+<p>Sandy McCulloch! The very name breathed a charm. Donald repeated it to
+himself constantly. He dreamed dreams and wove adventures about this
+mysterious Scotchman. He knew he should like Sandy. Who could help it?
+His name was enough.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime the days of preparation flew by. Donald's spring
+examinations were passed with honors&mdash;a fact which his father declared
+proved that he had taken his work in earnest and that he deserved an
+outing. Mr. Clark laughingly ventured the hope that he should be able to
+leave his business affairs in equally good condition.</p>
+
+<p>"You have set quite a pace for me, Don! I am not sure whether I can take
+honors at the office or not. I have done the best I could, however,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"> [18]</a></span> to
+put things into Uncle Harold's hands so to cause him as little trouble
+as possible."</p>
+
+<p>Donald tried not to become impatient while these arrangements were being
+made.</p>
+
+<p>At last dawned that clear April morning when the East was left behind
+and the journey to the West&mdash;that unknown land&mdash;was begun. Donald had
+never been West. The vastness of the country, the newness of the scenery
+surprised and delighted him. Geography had never seemed so real before.
+No longer were the various states pink, green, or purple splotches on
+the map; they were real living places with people, sunshine, and fresh
+air.</p>
+
+<p>"I had no idea America was so big!" he gasped to his father.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the finest country in the world, Don! Be proud and thankful that
+you are an American. No other land does so much for her people. Be
+humble, too. Never let a chance go by to do your part in helping the
+country that does so much for you."</p>
+
+<p>They were standing in the glassed-in rear of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"> [19]</a></span> train, and as Mr.
+Clark spoke he pointed to vast tracts of forest land that sped past
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid I can't do anything for a great country like this, father,"
+said Donald, a little quiver in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one thing we can all do&mdash;that is be good citizens. Every law
+we have was made for the good of our people. In so far as you keep these
+laws you will be aiding in building up a more perfect America. Bear your
+share in that work&mdash;do not be a hindrance, Don."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try, father," was the boy's grave reply.</p>
+
+<p>To help in the progress of such a land as this! More than once Donald
+thought of his father's words as the train threaded its way along the
+banks of mighty rivers, rolled through great woodlands, or skirted
+cities which throbbed with the life of mighty industries.</p>
+
+<p>And all this vast-reaching land was his country&mdash;his!</p>
+
+<p>On every hand there were wonders!</p>
+
+<p>As the express thundered along he poured out question after question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"> [20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Why did people go way to Idaho to raise sheep? Why didn't his father
+raise his sheep in the East? Certainly there was room enough, plenty of
+room, that was much nearer than Idaho. How did sheep get into the
+mountains of Idaho anyway?</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark ducked his head under the torrent of queries.</p>
+
+<p>"You will drown me with questions!" he exclaimed laughing. "Well, I
+shall do my best to answer you. New Mexico was the first sheep center in
+our country. Herds were originally brought from Spain, and these flocks
+worked their way up from Mexico through New Mexico and California; here
+the hills supplied the coolness necessary to animals with such thick
+coats, and furnished them at the same time with plentiful grass for
+food. During the day the herds grazed, and at night they were driven
+into corrals of cedar built by the shepherds. These sheep were mostly
+Merinos, a variety raised in Spain. Afterward, in 1853, a man named
+William W. Hollister brought three hundred ewes across our continent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"> [21]</a></span> to
+the West. Think what a journey it must have been!"</p>
+
+<p>"Wasn't the railroad built?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Neither were there any bridges. There were rivers to swim and
+mountains to climb; furthermore there was many a search for water-holes,
+because Mr. Hollister was not well enough acquainted with the country to
+know where to find water for himself and the herd."</p>
+
+<p>"I should not think a sheep would have lived through such a journey!"
+cried Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Many of them did, however," answered his father, "and that is how our
+western sheep-raising industry began. Now it is one of the great
+occupations of our land, and soon you and I are to know more about it."</p>
+
+<p>"And about Sandy McCulloch, too, I hope," put in the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so; only remember&mdash;not a word of that telegram to any one at the
+ranch. We shall get into Glen City this noon if our train is on time and
+we must trust to luck in getting to Crescent Ranch. It is fifteen miles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"> [22]</a></span>
+from the station, up in the foot-hills of the Rockies."</p>
+
+<p>"The&mdash;the&mdash;you don't mean the Rocky Mountains!" gasped Donald, his eyes
+very wide open.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. Have you forgotten your geography?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I know that a spur of the Rocky Mountains does run diagonally
+across Idaho; but somehow I never thought of really being in the Rocky
+Mountains!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark enjoyed the outburst.</p>
+
+<p>"To be where there are bears and bob-cats and&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe, after all, you would rather have stayed at home and finished out
+your school year."</p>
+
+<p>"I rather guess not!" was the lad's emphatic reply.</p>
+
+<p>So impatient was he to see the marvels of this magic land that the last
+few hours of the journey seemed unending.</p>
+
+<p>But they did end.</p>
+
+<p>Toward noon the heavy train pulled into Glen City and they bundled out
+on to the platform.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"> [23]</a></span> They were the only passengers, but there was a
+great deal of freight&mdash;boxes, barrels, and cases of provisions. As they
+stood hesitating as to what they had better do a tall, bony young fellow
+approached the station agent and called with a decided suggestion of the
+Highlander in his accent:</p>
+
+<p>"I dinna see those kegs of lime for Crescent Ranch, Mitchell."</p>
+
+<p>"They're here. You will find them at the end of the platform. Come, and
+I'll help you pile them on your wagon."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark turned to the Scotchman.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you going to Crescent Ranch?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, I be, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you take my son and me along?"</p>
+
+<p>The Scotchman studied him carefully.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you business at the ranch?" he asked, looking keenly into the eyes
+of the speaker.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark met his gaze good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>"We might possibly have," he answered. "At any rate we want to go up
+there. My name is Clark and I come from Boston."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"> [24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Clark, did you say, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>The stolid stare of the Scotchman did not waver.</p>
+
+<p>"Mayhap you're the owner, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am."</p>
+
+<p>A gleam of something very like satisfaction passed over the tanned
+features of the young man. Then his face settled back into its wonted
+calmness.</p>
+
+<p>"It's welcome you are, sir," he said heartily. "I dinna think there'll
+be trouble about taking you and your son to Crescent."</p>
+
+<p>He wheeled and led the way to a wagon, where he piled up some sacks of
+grain for his guests to sit upon. Then he lifted in their luggage and
+the freight for which he had come, and gathered the lines over the backs
+of his horses.</p>
+
+<p>As the wagon toiled up the long, low hills Mr. Clark began asking
+questions about the ranch&mdash;he asked many questions concerning the
+country and the flocks. To all of these he received terse answers.</p>
+
+<p>Presently the Scotchman turned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"> [25]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It's little you be knowin' of sheepin', sir."</p>
+
+<p>The remark was made with so much simplicity that it could not have been
+mistaken for rudeness.</p>
+
+<p>"Very little."</p>
+
+<p>"Keep it to yourself, man," was the laconic advice the Highlander tossed
+over his shoulder as he transferred his attention to his horses.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark bit his lip to hide a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"What is your name, my lad?" he asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy McCulloch, sir," was the quiet answer.</p>
+
+<p>Donald waited, listening eagerly to every turn of the conversation that
+followed, but to his astonishment neither his father nor Sandy McCulloch
+spoke one word regarding the mysterious telegram.</p>
+
+<p>It was nightfall when the wagon that had brought them turned into a
+muddy drive and stopped before a bare looking house situated in a
+meadow, and surrounded by a number of vast barns and sheep-pens. Out of
+this house came a broad-shouldered, bronzed man who stood on the steps,
+waiting their approach. He wore trousers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"> [26]</a></span> of sheepskin, a soiled flannel
+shirt, and round his neck&mdash;knotted in the back&mdash;was a red handkerchief.
+Donald noticed that into his belt of Mexican leather was tucked a
+revolver. He stared at the strangers inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark jumped out as soon as the wagon stopped, and extended his
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know your name," he said pleasantly, "but mine is Clark. My
+son Donald and I have come from Boston to see the ranch."</p>
+
+<p>The man sprang forward.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Tom Thornton, sir. What a pleasure to have a visit from you! Such
+an unexpected visit, too."</p>
+
+<p>He slapped Mr. Clark heartily on the shoulder and took Donald's hand in
+a tight grip.</p>
+
+<p>But though he talked loudly, and laughed a great deal while carrying in
+their luggage, for some reason Donald felt certain that really Tom
+Thornton was not glad to see them at all.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"> [27]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="Chapter_II" id="Chapter_II"></a>CHAPTER II<br />
+WHO SANDY WAS</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/tdog.png" width="150" height="167"
+     alt="" />
+The next morning both Donald and his father were astir early.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing to keep them within the great chilly house, and
+everything to lure them into the sunshine. The sky was without a cloud,
+and into its blueness stretched distant ranges of hazy mountains at
+whose feet nestled lower hills covered with faint green. Near at hand
+patches of meadow were toned to grayish white by grazing bands of sheep.
+On the still air came the flat, metallic note of herd-bells, and the
+bleating of numberless unseen flocks within the pens and barns.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"> [28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>What a novel scene it was!</p>
+
+<p>The newcomers found their way to a sheltered corner where they could
+look out before them into the vastness.</p>
+
+<p>It was all so strange, so interesting!</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere in the ravine below they could catch the rushing music of a
+stream which wove itself in and out a maze of rolling hills and was lost
+at last in the shadows of the green valleys.</p>
+
+<p>As they stood silent and drank in the beauty about them, an angry voice
+broke the stillness.</p>
+
+<p>It came from the interior of the barn near which they were standing.</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you what, Tom Thornton, I'm with Sandy McCulloch. The sheep
+always were washed after shearing in Old Angus's day, and in Johnson's
+as well. That is how Crescent Ranch came to have the good name it now
+holds. There were no scabby sheep here to infect the rest of the herd."</p>
+
+<p>"What's that to you, Jack Owen? You are here to mind the boss, ain't
+you? What's the use of our working like beavers for ten days to dip the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"> [29]</a></span>
+flock if we don't have to? Dipping is a dirty, tiresome job. You are not
+in for making work for yourself, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The flocks will be ruined!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you care&mdash;they are not your sheep."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I have been on this ranch a long time, Thornton, and I can't help
+caring what becomes of 'em. I take the same pride in the place Sandy
+does. We have won a reputation here for doing things the way they ought
+to be done&mdash;for minding the laws&mdash;for having clean, healthy stock. Sandy
+says he shall dip his herd, anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Bother Sandy! He's talked to you men until he's got you all upset. You
+would have been with me if he had kept his mouth shut. But no matter
+what he says I am running this ranch at present. I mean to run it in the
+future, too. If you're wise you will do as I tell you."</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Clark may have something to say about the dipping."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you fret," sneered Thornton. "I sounded him last night. He's a
+tenderfoot. I don't believe he knows a thing about sheeping."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"> [30]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark drew Donald into the sun-flooded field before he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>Then, after a thoughtful silence he turned:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Don?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't have that Thornton here another day, father!" broke out the
+boy hotly.</p>
+
+<p>"Slowly, son, slowly! We must be sure about Thornton before we condemn
+him. He has been ten years on the ranch; more than that, we are without
+a manager, and we have none in view. Remember 'he stumbles who runs
+fast.' Take time, Don, take time."</p>
+
+<p>Donald flushed.</p>
+
+<p>"I know it is the best way, but I was so angry to hear him talking that
+way about you."</p>
+
+<p>"Loyalty is a fine trait, Don." Mr. Clark laid his hand affectionately
+on his son's shoulder. "I like to see you loyal. But in this matter we
+must move slowly."</p>
+
+<p>"What about this dipping, father? What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Something about washing the sheep. I do not clearly understand it
+myself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"> [31]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Shall you have it done?"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I do not know anything about it," Donald replied modestly,
+"but somehow I feel as if Sandy and the men are right."</p>
+
+<p>"I think so too."</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't I ask Sandy what it is, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am thinking of asking him myself, Don, if I get a good chance."</p>
+
+<p>The chance came unexpectedly, for at that very moment Sandy McCulloch
+came out of one of the sheep-pens and crossed the walk to the central
+barn.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you up to to-day, Sandy?" called Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to dip my flock, sir, down in the south meadow."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad of that, for it will give us a chance to see it done,"
+observed Mr. Clark. Then lowering his voice he asked: "Why do you dip
+the sheep, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you asking because you want to know?" inquired Sandy with the
+directness which characterized everything he said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"> [32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Both Donald and I wish to learn."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, it is this way. After the shearing is over and the fleece
+removed, the coat of the sheep is light and therefore easily dried. We
+then take the flocks and run them through a bath of lime and sulphur.
+Some shepherds prefer a coal-tar dip. Whatever the dip is made of, the
+purpose is the same. It is to kill the parasites on the sheep and cure
+any diseases of the eyes. If sheep are not dipped they get the 'scab.'
+Some bit of a creature gets under their skin and burrows until it makes
+the sheep sick. Often, too, the wool will peel off in great patches. One
+sheep will take it from another, until by and by the whole herd is
+infected."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I never mean to let a sickly sheep go on the range," continued Sandy.
+"I try to flax round and find out what is the matter with him so I can
+cure him. We don't want our herd spoiling the feeding grounds and the
+water-holes and giving their diseases to all the flocks that graze after
+them. If we are let graze on the range the least we can do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"> [33]</a></span> is to be
+decent about it&mdash;that's the way I look at it."</p>
+
+<p>"Have our sheep always been dipped?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, sir, that they have&mdash;dipped every spring after shearing; then we
+clipped their feet before they started for the range. Sheep, you know,
+walk on two toes, and if their feet are not trimmed they get sore from
+traveling so much. I suppose nature intended sheep to climb over the
+rocks and wear their hoofs down that way. They have a queer foot. Did
+you know that there is a little oily gland between the toes to make the
+hoof moist, and keep it from cracking?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I guess neither Donald nor I knew that, did we, Donald? Now about
+this dipping&mdash;do you thoroughly understand how it is done, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do that, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Donald wondered why his father was so thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p>"How long have you been at Crescent Ranch, Sandy?" asked Mr. Clark at
+last.</p>
+
+<p>"Ever since I was a lad of fifteen, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"That must be about ten years!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"> [34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Fourteen."</p>
+
+<p>A new thought came to Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, then you must have known Old Angus," he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"I did, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"He was a fine old man, they tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"He was."</p>
+
+<p>"I never saw him&mdash;I wish I had. It was a great loss to the ranch and to
+all of us when he went."</p>
+
+<p>"It was indeed."</p>
+
+<p>"You must remember him well, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>Throwing back his head with a gesture of pride, Sandy confronted Mr.
+Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"I do, sir," he replied simply. "He was my father."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark and Donald stared.</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?" cried Donald's father,
+stepping forward eagerly and seizing the hand of the young ranchman.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought mayhap you knew it. If not&mdash;why prate about it? It's on my
+own feet I must stand and not on my father's. If I am of any use you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"> [35]</a></span>
+will find it out fast enough, father or no father; if I'm not 'twere
+best you found that out as well."</p>
+
+<p>"Independent as your forebears, Sandy!" laughed Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"I be a McCulloch, sir!" was all Sandy said.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"> [36]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III<br />
+
+THE DIPPING</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/ibear.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+It was a great surprise to Tom Thornton when Mr. Clark informed him that
+he wanted the men to start in dipping the sheep as soon as they could
+get ready.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose, Thornton, you have everything in readiness for the work,"
+continued the owner casually.</p>
+
+<p>Thornton did not hesitate.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed, sir. We can start right in to-day if you wish. It is for
+you to say. But really, Mr. Clark, the flock hardly needs it. Our sheep
+are in prime condition."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"> [37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's all the more reason for keeping them so, Thornton," was the
+smiling reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course that is true, sir. Very well. We will go ahead. I think I
+shall have time to give the orders, although I have got to be in Glen
+City about ten days shipping the clip."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shipping the wool, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes."</p>
+
+<p>"I can start the work before I go."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you need bother, Thornton," remarked Mr. Clark slowly.
+"You go on down to Glen City and finish up your business there."</p>
+
+<p>"But somebody must see to the dipping if you really want it done."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll attend to it."</p>
+
+<p>"You!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why&mdash;nothing, sir. I beg your pardon. Only I thought you might be
+too tired after your trip."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no. I am not tired at all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"> [38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thornton eyed him.</p>
+
+<p>Even Donald was astonished.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark did not seem to be at all disturbed by the embarrassing
+stillness, but went on shaving down a stick he was whittling.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not mean to manage the dipping myself," he explained at last. "I
+shall let Sandy McCulloch take charge of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy McCulloch! Why, sir, that boy could never do it in the world! He
+is a good lad&mdash;well enough in his way&mdash;but not very smart. Not at all
+like his father."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, if he has no ability I shall soon find it out. I mean to try him,
+anyway."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you can try him if you like, but I know the fellow better than you
+do. You are foolish to turn any big work over to him. He can't handle
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"I intend to give him the chance."</p>
+
+<p>Thornton's annoyance began to get beyond his control.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. It is not my business," he snapped as he left the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"> [39]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The instant he was gone Donald, who could not keep silent another
+moment, cried:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, father! I am so glad you are going to let Sandy manage the
+dipping!"</p>
+
+<p>"It is an experiment, Don. Sandy is young and he may make a mess of
+things&mdash;not because he does not mean well, but because he lacks
+experience. He has been here a long time, to be sure, but he never has
+taken any care beyond watching his own flocks."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think he will fail. The men will all help him. They like him."</p>
+
+<p>"I can see that."</p>
+
+<p>"And I like him too, father."</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, son. I am trusting him with this work not only because I like
+him but because I feel sure that the son of such a father cannot go far
+astray. It was a great surprise to me when I found Sandy was the son of
+Old Angus. You see we all thought so much of the old Scotchman that he
+was Old Angus to everybody. I had almost forgotten he had another name.
+I don't think I ever heard any one call him Angus McCulloch in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"> [40]</a></span> my life.
+And yet I remember the name now, for I can recall seeing it written out
+on checks and letters."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a fine name," Donald declared.</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy comes of good stock. I want to help him all I can. If he has the
+right stuff in him perhaps we can give him a lift. I wish we might, for
+I feel we owe his father more than we ever can repay."</p>
+
+<p>It was great news to Sandy when he learned that not only was he to dip
+his own flock, but that into his hands was to be put the dipping of the
+entire herd.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm no so sure I can manage it, Mr. Clark," he said modestly, lapsing,
+as he often did, into his broad Scotch. "I'll do the best I can though,
+sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure you will."</p>
+
+<p>And Sandy did do his best!</p>
+
+<p>The hot dip, with the proper proportions of lime and sulphur, was
+prepared, and Sandy tested its temperature by seeing if he could bear
+his hand in it. Then the long cement troughs were filled. These troughs
+were just wide enough so the sheep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"> [41]</a></span> were not able to turn. Groups of
+sheep that had been driven from the larger enclosures to the small pens
+near the dipping troughs were then hurried, one by one, to the men
+standing at the head of the troughs; it was the duty of these men to
+push each sheep in turn down the smooth metal incline into the dip. The
+sheep slipped in easily. As they swam along through the steaming bath
+other men were posted midway and when a sheep passed they thrust the
+head twice under water with their crooks so that the eyes and heads&mdash;as
+well as the bodies&mdash;might be cleansed. At the far end of the troughs
+still other herders helped the bedraggled creatures out onto a draining
+platform where they dripped for a time and were afterward driven back
+into their pens.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't think the sheep would ever dry!" Donald remarked to Sandy
+as they watched the process.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, they do; only it takes a couple of days&mdash;and sometimes more before
+their wool is thoroughly dry," answered the Scotchman.</p>
+
+<p>Donald looked on, fascinated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"> [42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The work proceeded without a hitch.</p>
+
+<p>The sheep were fed into the troughs, hurried on and away, only to give
+place to others. Whenever the dip cooled a fresh, hot supply was added.
+Within an hour Donald counted a hundred sheep swim their way through the
+one trough near which he chanced to be standing.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy McCulloch was everywhere at once&mdash;now here, now there, giving
+orders. Gladly the herders obeyed him. They all liked Sandy, not only
+for his own sake but for the sake of Old Angus, his father, under whom
+most of them had worked in years past.</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy's a fine lad!" Donald heard one of the herders say.</p>
+
+<p>"There's not a better on Crescent Ranch!" was the prompt reply from a
+grizzled old Mexican who was ducking the heads of the herd that sped
+past him.</p>
+
+<p>"He wouldn't make a bad boss of the ranch," murmured another in an
+undertone.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"> [43]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/i042.png" width="400" height="551"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">"HE WOULDN'T MAKE A BAD BOSS"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sandy did not hear them. He was too intent on his work. He went about it
+simply, yet with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"> [44]</a></span> his whole soul. Day after day his cheery voice could
+be heard:</p>
+
+<p>"Your dip is cooling, Bernardo! Warm it up a bit. Dinna you know you'll
+have your labor for your pains unless the stuff is hot as the sheep can
+bear it? Hurry your flock ahead there, Jos&eacute;. Think you we want to be
+dipping sheep the rest of the season? If those ewes have drained off
+enough let the dogs drive them back to the pens. They'll rub their sides
+up against the boards and cleanse the pen as well as themselves. Now
+bring out the new herd that came last week from Kansas City. You'll find
+them in pens seventeen and eighteen. We kept them by themselves so they
+would scatter no disease through the flock. After they are dipped they
+can be put with the others."</p>
+
+<p>The men took all he said good-naturedly. Sandy used no unnecessary
+words, but what he did say was crisp and to the point, and the herders
+liked it. They liked, too, to watch his face when his lips parted and
+his glistening white teeth gleamed between them. Sandy had a very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"> [45]</a></span>
+contagious smile. He worked tirelessly, and ever as he moved about among
+the sheep two great Scotch collies tagged at his heels. Busy as he was
+he often bent down to pat one of the shaggy heads, and was rewarded by
+having the beautiful dogs thrust their long noses into his hand or rub
+up against his knees. It was amusing to Donald to watch these dogs dash
+after the sheep and drive them into the pens. Sometimes they leaped on
+the backs of the herd and ran the entire length of the line until they
+reached the ones at the front. They then proceeded to bite the necks of
+these leaders until they turned them in the desired direction. This
+done, the collies would run back and by nipping the heels of the sheep
+at the rear they would compel them to follow where they wished to have
+them go.</p>
+
+<p>Donald had never seen anything like it.</p>
+
+<p>During the time that the dipping process continued he did not lack for
+entertainment, you may be sure.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll soon have nothing more to do, Sandy," the boy said one night
+when he and the Scotchman<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"> [46]</a></span> were sitting in the twilight on the steps of
+the big barn.</p>
+
+<p>"How's that, laddie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the dipping will be over to-morrow, won't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but that is only the beginning of trouble. We shall then put the
+herd out in the wet grass a while and soften their hoofs so they can be
+trimmed before the flocks start for the range. Then the bells must be
+put on, and the bands of sheep made up for the herders."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean by making up the herd?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try to tell you. Sheep, you must know, are the queerest creatures
+under the blue of heaven. It ain't in the power of man to understand
+them. Some minutes they are doing as you'd likely think they would; the
+next thing you know they are all stampeding off by themselves, and try
+as you will you cannot stop 'em. They dinna seem sometimes to have a bit
+of brains."</p>
+
+<p>Donald laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Aye! You may well laugh, sitting here, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"> [47]</a></span> it's no so funny when they
+go chasing after the leaders and jumping over the face of some cliff.
+Think of seeing a hundred of 'em piled up dead at your feet!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did such a thing as that really ever happen, Sandy?" questioned Donald
+incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"It did so. Didn't bears get after a flock on one of the ranges and
+didn't the whole lot of scared creatures start running? If they had but
+waited either the dogs or the herders might have driven off the bears.
+But no! Nothing would do but they must run&mdash;and run they did. One after
+another they leaped over the edge of the rimrock until most of the flock
+was destroyed. Folks named the place 'Pile-Up Chasm.' It was a sorry
+loss to the owner."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't see why&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, nor anybody else," interrupted Sandy. "That's the sort of thing
+they do. When they are frightened they never make a sound&mdash;they just
+run. If nobody heads them off they are like to run to their death; and
+when anybody does head them off it must be done carefully or the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"> [48]</a></span> front
+ones will wheel about and pile up on all those coming toward them. Lots
+of sheep are killed in this way. They trample each other to death. Why,
+once a man down in Glen City was driving a big flock along when around a
+turn in the road came a motor-truck. The sheep got scared and the front
+ones whisked straight about. That started others. Soon there was a grand
+mix-up&mdash;sheep all panic-stricken and tramping over each other. The owner
+lost half his herd. Now you see why we have to have leaders."</p>
+
+<p>"Leaders?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. That is one part of making up the herds. We must put some sheep
+that are wiser than the rest in every flock that they may lead the
+stupid ones. I dinna ken where they'd be if we didn't. We take as
+leaders sheep that are 'flock-wise'&mdash;by that I mean old ewes or wethers
+that have long been in the herds and know the ways. Sometimes, also, we
+put in a goat or two, for a goat has the wit to find water and food for
+himself. Not so the sheep! Never a bit! You have to lead sheep clean up
+to grass and to water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"> [49]</a></span> as well. They can never find anything for
+themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Do they know anything at all, Sandy?" queried Donald, laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"They do so. In some ways they are canny enough. They will scent a
+storm, and when one is coming never a peg will they stir to graze. They
+give a queer cry, too, when they find water&mdash;a cry to tell the others in
+the flock; and if the water is brackish or tainted they make a different
+sound as if to warn the herd. Sheep are very fussy about what they
+drink. It's a strange lot they are, sure enough!"</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't think they would know enough to follow their leaders even
+if they had any," remarked Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see there is a sort of instinct born in 'em to tag after each
+other. Besides, they learn to follow by playing games. Yes, indeed,"
+protested Sandy, as Donald seemed to doubt his words, "sheep are very
+fond of games. There are a number of different ones that they play. The
+one they seem to like best is 'Follow the Leader.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"> [50]</a></span> I don't know as you
+ever played it, but when I was a lad I did."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I have played it. We used to do it at recess."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the sheep like it as well as you, and it is a lucky thing, for it
+teaches them one of the very things we want them to learn. They will
+often start out, one old sheep at the head, and all the others will fall
+into line and do just what that sheep at the front does. So they learn
+the trick of keeping their eyes on a few that are wiser than they, and
+doing what the knowing ones do. They seem to have no minds of their
+own&mdash;they just trail after their leaders. If we can get leaders that are
+able to see what we want done it is a great help."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think so!"</p>
+
+<p>"When we have selected our leaders we then scatter markers through each
+band of sheep."</p>
+
+<p>"And what are markers, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"For a marker you must take a black-faced sheep&mdash;or, mayhap, one with a
+crumpled horn; he must have something queer about him so you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"> [51]</a></span> will know
+him right off when he is mixed in with the flock. We put these markers
+at the beginning of every hundred sheep. It makes it easier to keep
+track of the herd."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry to be so stupid, Sandy," Donald said, "but I don't think I
+just understand about the markers."</p>
+
+<p>"We have two thousand sheep in a band," explained the herder kindly.
+"Now if one of our markers is missing we reckon that a hundred sheep are
+gone. No one sheep ever strays off by himself, you may be sure of that.
+When sheep stray they stray in bunches. If a marker wanders off you can
+safely figure that a lot of those around him have gone too. Roughly
+speaking we call it a hundred."</p>
+
+<p>"But when you have such big bands of sheep and they are moving about I
+should not think the markers would be in the same place twice,"
+persisted Donald, determined to fathom this puzzling problem.</p>
+
+<p>"You dinna ken sheep, laddie! They are as jealous to keep their rightful
+place in the flock as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"> [52]</a></span> school children are to get the first place in the
+line. They will fight and fight if another takes the position that
+belongs to them. It is a silly idea, but an aid to the herders."</p>
+
+<p>"And so the leaders and these markers really help the shepherds to
+manage the flock?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye. But you're leaving out the shepherd's best helper."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy's face suddenly softened into tenderness.</p>
+
+<p>"His best helper?" repeated Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, laddie! His dogs!"</p>
+
+<p>Bending down the Scotchman thrust his hand into the ruff of shaggy hair
+about the neck of one of the collies beside him. There was a low growl
+from the other dog, who rose and rested his pointed nose on Sandy's
+knee.</p>
+
+<p>The man laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Robin," he said, addressing the collie before him, "must you always
+take it amiss if I have a word for Prince Charlie? You're no gentleman!
+Down, both of you!"</p>
+
+<p>The collies crouched at his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"I never can speak to one without speaking to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"> [53]</a></span> the other," he went on.
+"They are jealous as magpies."</p>
+
+<p>"They are the finest dogs I ever saw, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"I pride myself there are not many like them," agreed the herder. "I
+raised them from puppies and trained them myself. Now Colin, who also
+goes with me when I go to the hills, is a good dog, but he is not my
+own. He belongs to the ranch. So do Victor and Hector. You never feel
+the same toward them as you do with those you have brought up yourself.
+Robin and Prince Charlie are not to be matched in the county. But to see
+them at their best you must see 'em on the range."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could!"</p>
+
+<p>"So it's to the range you'd be going, is it? Well, well&mdash;belike when the
+herds are made up and we set out your father will let you go up into the
+hills a piece with me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sandy," cried the boy, "would you take me? Do you suppose father
+would let me go?"</p>
+
+<p>"'Twill do no harm to ask him. I must wait, though, until I see the
+other herders off, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"> [54]</a></span> until Thornton is back from Glen City. The
+flocks must have a few days' rest after the dipping. Poor things! It is
+a sorry time they have being dipped in that hot bath just after they
+have lost their thick, warm coats; it makes them more chilly than ever.
+Then, too, they sometimes get small cuts while they are being sheared
+and the lime and sulphur makes the bruises smart. I am always sorry for
+the beasties. Yet after all I comfort myself with thinking that it is
+better they should be wretched for a little while than to be sick for a
+long while. It is like sitting in a dark room when you have the
+measles&mdash;you do not like it but you know you will be worse off if you
+don't do it."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy laughed and so did Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Then it will be several days before you start for the range, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I must wait for Thornton. I can't leave your father here alone. He
+might want me."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been a great help to my father, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"It's little enough I've done. I would do a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"> [55]</a></span> good sight more if the need
+came. A McCulloch would do anything in his power for Crescent Ranch or
+its owners."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"You do well to believe me, lad, for I speak the living truth!"</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"> [56]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV<br />
+
+SANDY GIVES DONALD A LESSON</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/dsheep.png" width="150" height="173"
+     alt="" />
+During the next few days preparations for the range went steadily
+forward.</p>
+
+<p>Most of the herders had been so long at Crescent Ranch that they knew
+exactly what to do. It was an ancient story to men who had worked under
+Old Angus and Johnson.</p>
+
+<p>To Donald, however, everything was new. From morning to night he trotted
+after Sandy until one day the young Scotchman remarked with a
+mischievous smile:</p>
+
+<p>"You put me verra much in mind of one of my collies&mdash;I declare if you
+don't!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"> [57]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The boy chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"It is all so different from anything I ever saw before, Sandy. I am
+finding out so many things! Why, until yesterday I thought sheep were
+just sheep&mdash;all of them the same kind. Father mentioned Merinos, and I
+supposed they were all Merinos."</p>
+
+<p>"Well! Well! And so you have found out that they are not all the same
+kind? How many kinds have you learned about, pray?"</p>
+
+<p>Donald took Sandy's banter in good part.</p>
+
+<p>"You needn't laugh, Sandy," he said. "Lots and lots of our sheep are
+Merinos, aren't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, laddie. Merinos are a good sheep for wool-growing. They are no so
+bonny&mdash;having a wrinkled skin and wool on their faces; they are small,
+too. But their coat is fine and long, and they are kindly. The American
+Merinos are the best range sheep we have, because they are so hardy and
+stay together so well. Some sheep scatter. It seems to be in their blood
+to wander about. Of course you can't take sheep like that on the range.
+They would be all over the state."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"> [58]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should think it would be a great bother to cut the wool from a Merino
+when he is so wrinkly," suggested Donald thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"You show your wit&mdash;it is a bother. It takes much longer to clip them
+than it does a smooth-skinned sheep. Besides, their fleece is heavy, for
+it contains a great deal of oil&mdash;or as we call it, yolk. But have done
+with Merinos. What others did you learn about?"</p>
+
+<p>"One of the herders told me about the Delaine Merinos and showed me the
+long parallel fibers in their wool; he also pointed out a French Merino,
+or&mdash;or&mdash;a&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rambouillet!" laughed Sandy. "I was waiting to hear you twist your
+tongue around that word. It took me full a week to learn to say it, and
+even now I never say it in a hurry. We have many a French Merino here;
+they belong, though, to quite a different family from the other Merinos.
+You will find them a much larger sheep, and their wool coarse fibered.
+They are great eaters, these French Merinos."</p>
+
+<p>"Like me!" cried Donald.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"> [59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Verra like you!" agreed Sandy. "But it is no so easy filling them up.
+Why, they will eat a whole hillside in no time. They can beat you, too,
+on staying out in all sorts of weather. Here in Idaho we generally have
+fairly mild winters, so our sheep can be out all the year round. We have
+a few shacks down in the valley where we can shelter them if we have
+cold rains during the season. They feed down there along the river,
+eating sage-brush and dried hay from fall until spring. It is often
+scant picking, but if it is too scant we give them grain, alfalfa hay,
+or sometimes pumpkins."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I never dreamed they stayed out all winter!" ejaculated Donald,
+opening his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"In a state where it is as mild as this one they can. Then in the spring
+when the shearing, dipping, and all is done, we start for the range. We
+never go, though, until the sun has baked the grass a while, for if the
+herd crops too early the sheep pull at the new shoots that are just
+taking hold in the soil and up they come&mdash;roots and all. Then in future
+you will have no grass&mdash;just bare ground. Very early grass is bad for
+sheep, too."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"> [60]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What do people do where there are no ranges, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Their sheep are kept in great fenced-in pastures and fed from troughs
+or feeding racks. They have alfalfa hay, turnips, rape, kale, corn,
+pumpkins and grain. The range sheep are the hardiest, though. Sheep were
+made to climb and scramble over rocky places, and they are stronger and
+healthier for doing it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd rather be a range sheep!" declared Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"And I!" agreed Sandy promptly. "But you're no through telling me about
+the sorts of sheep you learned about. Didn't anybody tell you about the
+Cotswolds?"</p>
+
+<p>Donald shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's a sad pity. They are such big, grand fellows with their
+white faces and white legs. And dinna forget the Lincolns. You will have
+no trouble in knowing a Lincoln. They are the heaviest sheep we have,
+and their wool is long. A Lincoln is handsome as a painting; in fact I'd
+far rather have one than some of the paintings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"> [61]</a></span> I've seen. You want to
+get sight of one when its fleece is full! We have a scattering, too, of
+Leicesters and Dorset Horns, but the Dorsets are such fighters that I
+dinna care much for them. They will even attack the dogs."</p>
+
+<p>"I never heard of sheep doing that!"</p>
+
+<p>"Now and again they will, but not often."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy paused and began to whistle softly to himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Are&mdash;are those all the kinds of sheep, Sandy?" ventured Donald at last,
+after he had waited for some time and there seemed to be no prospect of
+Sandy coming to the end of his tune.</p>
+
+<p>"All! Hear the lad! All! Indeed and that's not all! There are Cheviots
+from the English and Scotch hill country. You've had a cheviot suit,
+mayhap. Yes? Well, that's where you got it. Then there is the Tunis and
+the Persian. California, Nevada, and Texas raise Persians. They are a
+fat-tailed sheep. We never went in for them here. In England you will
+find a host of other sorts of sheep that are raised on the English
+Downs; most of them are short-haired and are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"> [62]</a></span> raised not so much for
+their wool as for their mutton. There are Southdowns, Hampshire Downs,
+Sussex, Oxfords, Shropshire Downs, and the Dorset Horns. We always like
+some Shropshires in our herd."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Sandy," groaned Donald with a wry smile, "I never, never can
+remember all these kinds."</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna shed tears about it, laddie. The wool will keep growing on their
+backs just the same. But it's likely that you'll never again be thinking
+that a sheep is just a sheep!"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I shan't!"</p>
+
+<p>"As for myself," went on Sandy, "I like all kinds; I like the smell of
+them, and being with them on the range. You'll like the range, too, if
+your father lets you go. You'll like the big sky, the crisp air, and the
+peace of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope he will let me go."</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna fear! We will 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."</p>
+
+<p>"What wagons?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you no see the canvas-topped wagons in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"> [63]</a></span> 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."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you come down for your food!" exclaimed Donald, aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"> [64]</a></span> to the range&mdash;just enough so we can cook our meals. It is
+like camping out anywhere else."</p>
+
+<p>"I love camping!" cut in Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you'll like the range for certain."</p>
+
+<p>"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!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna fret yourself about your father," was Sandy's dry retort. "He
+needs no pity. He can take care of himself."</p>
+
+<p>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.</p>
+
+<p>"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?"</p>
+
+<p>Thornton glanced keenly at the ranch owner as he put his question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"> [65]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"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 Ranch myself."</p>
+
+<p>Thornton drew a quick breath.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that he was amazed and none too well pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"It is hard work, sir&mdash;especially when you are not used to it."</p>
+
+<p>"I am accustomed to hard work."</p>
+
+<p>"The men will take advantage of you, sir&mdash;if I may be so bold as to say
+so. They know you were not brought up to sheeping. They will impose on
+you and shirk their duties."</p>
+
+<p>"I am not afraid, Thornton," was the calm reply. "I have had a chance to
+test what they would do when they were dipping the sheep. It was as
+thorough a piece of work as one would wish to see done, and went
+smoothly as a sled in iced ruts. I never saw better team-work. Sandy
+directed things most ably."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"> [66]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sandy does well enough at times," was Thornton's grudging answer, "but
+you are depending on him too much. You may regret it later."</p>
+
+<p>"I doubt it."</p>
+
+<p>Thornton turned.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait and see," was his curt reply.</p>
+
+<p>After he had gone out Donald rose and came to his father's side.</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton doesn't like Sandy, father."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid he doesn't, Don."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"Think of a reason."</p>
+
+<p>"Because Sandy is the son of Old Angus&mdash;is it that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Possibly," responded Mr. Clark, "and yet I think it is not wholly
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"Because Sandy is so good?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps."</p>
+
+<p>"Because we both like Sandy so much?" persisted the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't wonder."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't see how any one could help liking Sandy! He is the best
+man on the place.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"> [67]</a></span> He knows so much, and is so full of fun, father! And
+he is so kind to his dogs and to the sheep! Why, I believe he loves
+every sheep on Crescent Ranch."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure of it."</p>
+
+<p>There was a silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Father," burst out Donald when he could bear the silence no longer, "I
+believe Thornton wants you to appoint him manager of our ranch."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark's face lighted with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to hear you call it our ranch, Don," he said. "I want you to
+grow up and go to college and afterward I wish you to choose some useful
+work in the world. Whatever honorable thing you elect to do I shall
+gladly help you to carry out. But if it happened&mdash;not that I should ever
+urge it&mdash;but if it happened that by and by you wanted to take part of
+the care of this ranch on your shoulders it would make me very glad."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I should like to," cried Donald impulsively.</p>
+
+<p>"No, no," his father responded, shaking his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"> [68]</a></span> head. "Do not give your
+word so thoughtlessly. It is a serious matter to choose what you will do
+in life. You must take a long time to think about it&mdash;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."</p>
+
+<p>"I will, father."</p>
+
+<p>"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."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose we should."</p>
+
+<p>"What should you say about that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't appoint Thornton, father!"</p>
+
+<p>His father smiled at the instant decision.</p>
+
+<p>"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&mdash;somebody we can trust when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"> [69]</a></span> we are in the East; somebody who will
+run the ranch exactly as if we were here."</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton wouldn't!"</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I am trying to find out," Mr. Clark said.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you anybody in mind, father&mdash;anybody beside Thornton?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark fingered his watch-chain.</p>
+
+<p>"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."</p>
+
+<p>"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."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad of that," answered his father.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"> [70]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V<br />
+
+THORNTON HAS A REPRIMAND</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/ddog.png" width="150" height="168"
+     alt="" />
+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.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"> [71]</a></span> The days were long and the work was real. It was,
+however, good wholesome work in the open air&mdash;work that made his muscles
+ache at first and then grow steadily stronger.</p>
+
+<p>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:</p>
+
+<p>"Might I come in and speak to you and Donald, Mr. Clark?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark laid down his book. He always enjoyed a talk with Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly," he answered. "Come up by the fire, Sandy. The chilly
+evenings still hang on, don't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"They do so. I'm thinking, Mr. Clark, that now Thornton is back again it
+is time I started for the range. Some of the herders have gone already,
+as you know; the rest will be off to-morrow. I ought to be getting under
+way soon if I want to land my flock in high, cool pasturage before the
+heat comes."</p>
+
+<p>"Very true, Sandy. I have kept you behind because your aid in starting
+off the wagons and the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"> [72]</a></span> other herders was invaluable. But, as you say,
+there is no need to detain you longer. How soon could you get away?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could start to-morrow if I had my permit."</p>
+
+<p>"How is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"As you remember, sir, we must have permits to graze on the range. You
+have paid enough money to the government to realize that."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed. And I never grudge the money, either."</p>
+
+<p>"What are permits, Sandy?" put in Donald eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, laddie, long ago people who raised horses and sheep wandered over
+all the mountainsides with their herds, and fed them wherever grass was
+plenty. It was free land. Anybody could graze there. It was a fine thing
+for a man with thousands of sheep not to have to pay a cent for their
+food, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"You would have thought there would have been enough for everybody to
+feed their stock peaceably, wouldn't you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"> [73]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well now, it didn't work out so at all. The sheepmen and the cattlemen
+came to actual war. The cattlemen declared that their herds would not
+graze where the sheep had been because of some queer odor the sheep left
+behind them; they argued, moreover, that sheep gnawed the grass off so
+close to the roots that they destroyed the crop and left barren land.
+The sheepmen, on the other hand, complained because the cattle&mdash;loving
+to stand in the water&mdash;waded into the water-holes and spoiled them. Each
+faction tried to crowd the other off the range. Dreadful things
+happened. Vaqueros, or cowboys, would dash on horseback right into the
+midst of a flock and scatter the sheep in every direction. Often many of
+the sheep fled into the hills and their owners never could find them
+again. Or sometimes the cowboys would drive the sheep ahead of them over
+high precipices. Cattlemen, being on horseback, had a great scorn for
+sheep-herders, who were obliged to trail their flocks on foot. The feud
+between the two varieties of stock-raisers became worse and worse."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"> [74]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Donald listened breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>"More men took up stock-raising as time went on, and in consequence more
+herds were turned onto the range. Soon the results began to show. The
+young trees of the forest lands were trampled down, or nibbled and
+destroyed; water-holes, which the settlers had used as their water
+supply, began to be polluted; homesteaders, who had built houses and
+settled in the sheep-raising districts, were driven off the range and
+had no place where they could be sure of feeding their flocks. The worst
+evil, though, was that one band of sheep after another would feed in the
+same spot. The first flock would nip off the top of the grass; the next
+flock had to eat it closer in order to get food enough; and when the
+last flocks came they burrowed into the earth with their sharp noses and
+dug the grass up by the roots. Whole stretches of land that had once
+been green and beautiful were left bare so that nothing would grow on
+them for years and years. Cattle do not eat the turf so close as that,
+and I do not wonder that the vaqueros complained, do you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"> [75]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I should think they would have!" agreed Donald heartily.</p>
+
+<p>"Then, too, the sheep have small, sharp hoofs, you know; these hoofs cut
+through the soil so that if many sheep travel over a place they grind
+the earth to powder. Well, that is just what happened. The sheep left
+the hillsides nothing but patches of brown dust. Things went on from bad
+to worse until our government stepped in."</p>
+
+<p>Donald kept his eyes intently on Sandy's face.</p>
+
+<p>"What could our government do?" he asked earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it could do a good many things, and it did. First, it took about
+160,000,000 acres of land as National Forests. It was no longer free
+pasture. It belonged to the United States."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think the herders would have been pretty cross about that!"</p>
+
+<p>"They were. You can see just how they felt. They made their living by
+raising stock, and to be deprived of pasturage angered them. At first
+the government intended to stop all herds from feeding in these National
+Reserves. They thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"> [76]</a></span> it was time to protect the forests that we might
+not have floods, landslides, and forest fires. They called it conserving
+the forests. Afterward, though, they considered that the western people
+made their living by raising cattle and sheep, and they worked out a
+plan whereby every owner who wanted to graze on the range should pay a
+certain sum to the United States Government for a permit, and should be
+allotted a particular pasture for his herd. The only restriction was
+that if an owner was granted a permit he must promise to obey the rules
+of the range. It was a wise and just arrangement. Only a certain number
+of sheep are now allowed to graze on a given area; there is therefore
+plenty of grass and no need for the flocks to eat the herbage down close
+and destroy it. The money for the permits, in the meantime, goes to the
+government, and enriches the United States treasury. Much of this money
+is spent in paying men to work on the range and better the conditions
+there, so really it comes back to the people who pay it."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand," Donald replied quickly, when Sandy paused for breath.
+"It is very interesting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"> [77]</a></span> isn't it, father? But I do not see how they can
+prevent herders who have no permits from grazing on the range."</p>
+
+<p>"They ought not to have to prevent them!" answered Sandy, hotly. "The
+herders ought to be decent enough to obey the law. If you are granted a
+favor you ought to be a gentleman in accepting it. Now I'm born of
+generations of shepherds&mdash;poor country folk they were, too; but my
+people ever had a sense of honor&mdash;they were gentlemen."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy drew himself up and threw back his head as he spoke the words.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot imagine a McCulloch being anything but a gentleman, Sandy,"
+said Mr. Clark, who had been listening carefully to Sandy's story of the
+range.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy was pleased.</p>
+
+<p>"It's many would not think so, Mr. Clark," he replied, as he stretched
+out his rough, brown hands.</p>
+
+<p>"One can tell nothing from hands," laughed Mr. Clark. "The heart is the
+thing that tells the tale. A clean, honest heart makes a gentleman, and
+no one is a gentleman without it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"> [78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But you are not telling me how they kept the herders without permits
+off the range," put in Donald mischievously.</p>
+
+<p>"I almost forgot. The question always ruffles me. You did a bad thing to
+stir me up about it. I'll tell you. The United States had to put
+soldiers on the range&mdash;think of it&mdash;soldiers to protect the government
+from its own people! And when the government was working to help those
+very people, too. They called these soldiers rangers. It was their duty
+to patrol the dividing line of the National Reserves. Every herder who
+passed in must show his permit and let the ranger see that he had with
+him no more sheep than he ought to have. That was fair, wasn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perfectly!" nodded Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Alack! It is a sad thing that there are people in the world who do not
+love their country well enough to obey her laws. If they are too stupid
+to see the laws are for their good why can't they trust the government?
+Here the government was going to give the herders better pastures and
+keep their flocks from being molested in them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"> [79]</a></span> Wouldn't you think a man
+with a grain of sense would see the wisdom of the plan!" Sandy's temper
+began to rise once more. "But no! The herders just felt the rangers who
+had been stationed to carry out the laws were enemies who had taken away
+their freedom. So when the rangers did not see them they tried every way
+to steal into the reserves without permits. Two men would start with
+their flocks; one would take the attention of the ranger by showing his
+permit and while the ranger was busy with him the other man would slide
+into the reserve far down the line where he was not noticed."</p>
+
+<p>"What a mean trick!" cried Donald. "And what if the ranger happened to
+see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, he would gallop after him and ride into his flock, scattering it
+every which way as he tried to drive the sheep out of the reserve. Often
+the herder would lose hundreds of them."</p>
+
+<p>"Served him right!"</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I think, too," grinned Sandy. "The like are not all dead
+yet either&mdash;worse luck! And this brings me back to the matter of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"> [80]</a></span>
+permit, Mr. Clark. We are two permits short, sir. The new herds that
+came from Kansas City are not counted into our old rating. Did you think
+of that? Having more sheep this year we must pay in more money. You
+didn't happen to remember, did you, to get permits for those extra
+flocks?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Sandy, I didn't; but of course Thornton has attended to it. See,
+here he comes. We will ask him. Thornton," he called, as the big fellow
+passed the door, "what are we going to do about permits for the new
+herds? They are not included in the tax we now pay."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you worry about more permits, Mr. Clark. I can save you a penny
+on that," declared Thornton with a knowing wink. "You pay the government
+enough as it is. Leave it to me, sir. I'll see that the herds get into
+the range all right, and that it costs you no more. When Sandy goes in
+he can talk with the ranger. All the rangers know him and they never
+will suspect him. In the meantime Owen can take the Kansas City herd and
+slip in further down the line. There is no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"> [81]</a></span> danger of our being caught.
+Many a herder has done it and had no trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"There will be no sliding sheep into the reserves without permits while
+I own Crescent Ranch, Thornton," said Mr. Clark sternly. "We will pay
+what we owe the government or we will keep fewer sheep."</p>
+
+<p>"I was only trying to save you money, sir," Thornton hastened to
+explain.</p>
+
+<p>"You took a very poor method to do it," was Mr. Clark's cold reply. "The
+money part of wool-growing is not your care. You are here to raise sheep
+in conformity to the laws of your country."</p>
+
+<p>"A mighty poor set of laws they are," grumbled Thornton sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"You may not like them, but they are for your good nevertheless, and
+since you are an American it is up to you to obey them. I keep no man in
+my employ who is not&mdash;before everything else&mdash;a good citizen."</p>
+
+<p>Thornton flushed, but made no reply.</p>
+
+<p>Then darting an angry glance at Sandy from beneath his shaggy brows, he
+left the room.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"> [82]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI<br />
+
+DONALD'S FIRST ADVENTURE ON THE RANGE</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/abear.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+After Donald went to bed that night Mr. Clark and Sandy had a long talk
+and the next morning when Donald came to breakfast the first question
+his father asked was:</p>
+
+<p>"How would you like to start for the range with Sandy, son, when the
+permits come?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, father! Will you really let me? I have wanted so much to go! I am a
+good walker, you know, and I am used to camping. Besides, I should like
+to be with Sandy," he added shyly.</p>
+
+<p>"I am convinced that you could be with no better young fellow in the
+world, Don, than to be with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"> [83]</a></span> Sandy McCulloch," replied Mr. Clark warmly.
+"Yes, I am going to let you go. I want you to help Sandy, however, all
+that you can. You must not be an idler and make extra trouble. You must
+take hold and do part of the work if you go. Do not think," he added
+kindly, "that I consider you a lazy lad, for you are far from it. You
+have been a great help on the ranch since you came. I have not been
+ignorant of many thoughtful things that you have been doing to help. I
+simply wish to remind you that on the range Sandy will have all he can
+do. In the midst of your pleasure do not forget your obligation to be
+useful. If you keep your eyes open you will see things that you can do,
+just as you have seen them here. You will have a thoroughly good time on
+the range, and I am glad to have you go. A little later I may want you
+to come back to the ranch to help me. You will be willing to do that,
+won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, father, I'll come whenever you send for me!" was the instant
+response. "But what are you going to do while I am gone? Can't you come
+too?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"> [84]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid not. I do not see how I can leave things here just now.
+Provisions must be portioned out and sent to the central camps. Then
+there are many repairs to be made and I must attend to those. I wish,
+also, to look over the books while I am here. You see I have plenty to
+do. When I get my work done I may ride up into the hills and join you
+and Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would," answered Donald. Then he added thoughtfully:
+"Father, if I stayed and helped you, could you get away any sooner?"</p>
+
+<p>The older man smiled at the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"That is generous of you, Donald boy. I appreciate it. No, I do not see
+how you could help me by remaining. You go with Sandy and when I need
+you I will send for you. In the meantime Thornton and I will get on very
+well here."</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton! Isn't he going to the range with one of the new herds?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not at present. There is a great deal of work to be done here. I prefer
+to keep him to help me."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you would have somebody else to help you and let Thornton take
+the herd, father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"> [85]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I think he is better here."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. You know best," declared Donald. "Shall you really feel all
+right if I go with Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, indeed. I want you to learn every phase of ranch life that you
+can. Then if anything ever decided you to take up wool-growing as a
+business you would come to it with a knowledge I never had. It would be
+far more interesting on that account. If, on the other hand, you decided
+on some other work in life you at least would have learned something of
+one of the great industries of our country and would be a broader-minded
+citizen in consequence."</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure I should, father. Why, ever since I have seen how big America
+is I am lots prouder that I am an American."</p>
+
+<p>His father smiled at his enthusiasm, then added gently:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but size is not everything. It is what a country is doing, or
+trying to do, to better the conditions of her people that makes her
+truly great. You know some of the things that are done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"> [86]</a></span> to make life
+happy, healthful, and comfortable for those who live in our cities. Now
+go out on the range. Look about you. See all that thoughtful, far-seeing
+men are doing to protect our forests, hillsides, streams; see how our
+government is entering into the life of those who live not in cities but
+on farms and ranches. You will find our country is doing much on the
+range beside merely issuing permits for us to graze there."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of things?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy knows; he'll show you. In spite of the fact that he was born a
+Scotchman he is as good an American as I know. He appreciates the
+benefits of this wonderful land enough to desire to be a helpful,
+law-abiding citizen. He does not accept all the advantages America
+offers without giving something in return, you see."</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy is too proud to take everything for nothing, father."</p>
+
+<p>"He is also too honest, son. Now go and get your camping traps together.
+I expect by afternoon to have a telegram that will answer in place of
+permits until they can be mailed to us. As<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"> [87]</a></span> soon as they come you and
+Sandy can start off; and in case they do not come to-day I can send them
+after you by a mounted messenger. So I think you'd better set out
+anyway. Wear your tramping shoes and carry your sleeping-bag. You better
+ask Sandy if there is anything else he wants you to take."</p>
+
+<p>Donald needed no second bidding.</p>
+
+<p>He was in the highest of spirits.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later and he had said good-bye to his father and Thornton, and
+was on his way to the range with Sandy McCulloch. At their backs a band
+of about two thousand sheep ambled along, the four dogs, Robin, Prince
+Charlie, Colin, and Hector, dashing in and out among them to keep the
+stragglers well in the path.</p>
+
+<p>The trail Sandy was following led across the open fields and ascending
+gradually, made for the chain of low hills faintly outlined in the
+far-away blue haze. Beyond these hills loomed more distant mountains,
+their tops capped with snow. These mountains, Sandy told Donald, were
+the foot-hills of the Rockies.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"> [88]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was quite evident that Sandy was now in his element. He swung along
+with slow but steady gait, carrying his pack easily and swinging his
+staff. His eye was alert for every movement of the flock. Now he would
+turn and draw some straying creature into place by putting his crook
+around one of its back legs. Sometimes he would motion the dogs to drive
+the herd along faster.</p>
+
+<p>To an eastern-bred lad who had lived all his life in a city the scene
+was wonderfully novel. The great blue stretch of sky seemed endless. How
+still the country was! Had it not been for the muffled tramp of hoofs,
+the low bleating of the herd, the flat-toned note of the sheep-bells,
+there would not have been a sound. The quiet of the day cast its spell
+everywhere. Sandy, who was usually chary enough of his words, preserved
+even a stricter silence. Although his lips were parted with a contented
+smile, only once did he venture to break the quiet and that was when he
+softly hummed a bar or two of "There Were Hundred Pipers"&mdash;a favorite
+song of his.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"> [89]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>At last Donald, who was bubbling over with questions, could bear it no
+longer.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you always so quiet, Sandy, when you go to the range?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The Scotchman roused himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, laddie, I was almost forgetting you were here! Aye, being with a
+flock is a quiet life. You have nobody to talk to on the range&mdash;nobody
+except the dogs; so you fall into the way of thinking a heap and saying
+but little. I like it. Some herders, though, find it a hard sort of
+existence. Many a man has sat alone day after day on the range, watching
+the sheep work their way in and out of the flock until in his sleep he
+could picture that sea of gray and white moving, moving, moving! It was
+always before him, sleeping or waking. It is a bad thing for a shepherd
+to get into that state of mind. We call it getting locoed."</p>
+
+<p>"What does that mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"You must know that on the hills grows a weed called loco-weed.
+Sometimes the sheep find and eat it, and it makes them dull and
+stupid&mdash;you know how you feel when you take gas to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"> [90]</a></span> your teeth
+pulled. Yes? Well, it's like that. We never let the herd get it if we
+can help it, and if they do we drive them away from it. They will go
+right back again, too, and eat more if you do not watch them. That's
+what loco-weed is."</p>
+
+<p>"And the shepherds?"</p>
+
+<p>"When a man gets dull and stupid by being alone so much, and sees sheep
+all the time&mdash;even when his eyes are shut&mdash;the best thing he can do is
+to leave the range. Some folks can stand being alone, others can't. Why,
+I have known of herders being alone until they actually wouldn't
+talk&mdash;they couldn't. They didn't want to speak or be spoken to and were
+ready to shoot any one who came upon them on the range and disturbed
+them. Once I knew of a herder leaving a ranch because the boss said
+good-morning to him. He complained that things were getting too
+sociable."</p>
+
+<p>"I should think the herders would like to see people when they are alone
+so much."</p>
+
+<p>"Aye. Wouldn't you! But no. In Wyoming there is a law that no herder
+shall be sent out alone to tend flocks; men must go in pairs. More than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"> [91]</a></span>
+that they must have little traveling libraries of a few books. The
+reason for that is to prevent them from sitting with their eyes fixed
+vacantly on the moving sheep all the time. It is a good law. Some time,
+likely, they will have it in all the states."</p>
+
+<p>"I mean to tell father about it. We could do that at our ranch easily,"
+said Donald. "Do you get lonely on the range, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nay, nay, laddie. It is many a year that I have been alone on the
+hills. I love it. There is always plenty to do. Sometimes I play tunes
+on my harmonica. Again I'll spend weeks carving flowers and figures on a
+staff. Then I have my dogs, and they are rare company. I sleep a good
+part of the day, you know, and watch the flock at night."</p>
+
+<p>"But I should think you would sleep at night."</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't do that."</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because there is more danger to the sheep at night. It is then that the
+wild creatures steal down and attack the herds."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"> [92]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Wild creatures?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bears, bob-cats, cougars, and coyotes."</p>
+
+<p>"On the range!" cried Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Where else?"</p>
+
+<p>"But I never thought of such animals being on the range!" murmured the
+boy.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy flashed him a smile.</p>
+
+<p>"You're no in a city park here, laddie," he observed emphatically.
+"There are all sorts of prowling creatures abroad at night. They are not
+after us&mdash;never fear. It is the poor, helpless sheep they are after."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you suppose, Sandy, that I shall see a bear?" asked Donald, his eyes
+sparkling.</p>
+
+<p>"Verra likely. For your sake I hope you may; for the sake of the herd I
+hope not. I have seen many on the range and have shot not a few. Down at
+the ranch I have a long chain made of bears' claws."</p>
+
+<p>Donald's eyes opened wider and wider.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to see a bear," cried he. "Just see him, you know&mdash;not have
+him hurt the sheep."</p>
+
+<p>"Mayhap you'll get your wish."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"> [93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thus&mdash;now talking, now lapsing into big, silent pauses, Donald and Sandy
+jogged on. At sundown they stopped for the night near a water-hole and
+here the flock was refreshed by a draught from a clear mountain stream.
+Then Sandy unpacked his saucepans, built a fire, and fried bacon which
+he laid&mdash;smoking hot&mdash;between two slices of bread. Was ever a meal so
+delicious, Donald wondered! Supper finished, the little portable tent
+was set up, more wood heaped on the fire, and the camp pitched for the
+night. Donald was tired out. After the sheep were bedded down around
+them, he crept only too gladly into his sleeping-bag and was soon
+oblivious of the range, the herd, and even Sandy himself.</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p>When he awoke it was with a sense of being cramped within a small space.
+He opened his eyes. It took him a few moments to collect his wits and
+remember where he was. Ah, yes! Here was the little low tent over his
+head, and just outside blinked the embers of the fire where he and Sandy
+had cooked their supper.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"> [94]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/i092.png" width="400" height="557"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">THEY STOPPED FOR THE NIGHT</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"> [95]</a></span>He sat up softly and peered out into the night.</p>
+
+<p>The country was flooded with moonlight in the brilliancy of which the
+ridges of the far-off hills stood out clearly; even the pool in the
+midst of the pasture caught the radiance and gleamed like a mirror. But
+amid all the beauty a subtle feeling of solitude oppressed him. It
+seemed as if he was the only being in the whole world.</p>
+
+<p>Further out he leaned.</p>
+
+<p>Then he started suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>All that great sea of human creatures that had surrounded him when he
+went to sleep had vanished!</p>
+
+<p>Not a sheep was to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>Thoroughly alarmed, he turned.</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy!" he called. "Sandy!"</p>
+
+<p>There was no reply.</p>
+
+<p>With growing apprehension he thrust out his hand in the direction where
+the herder had been lying.</p>
+
+<p>The chill of the cold earth met his touch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"> [96]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Terrified he sprang to his feet and bent down in the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>There was no one with him in the tent! Sandy and the herd were gone!</p>
+
+<p>For a while Donald stood very still. He was really alone, then&mdash;alone,
+miles from the home ranch, and not knowing the way back again! This was
+his first thought. The next was of Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>All that Thornton had hinted flashed into his mind. Sandy was not to be
+trusted, Thornton had told his father. If they placed any dependence on
+the young Scotchman they would some time regret it.</p>
+
+<p>Had Sandy deceived him?</p>
+
+<p>What possible object could he have, Donald asked himself, in so quietly
+departing with the sheep and leaving him behind?</p>
+
+<p>At least he had left the tent.</p>
+
+<p>Had he taken the food and rifles with him?</p>
+
+<p>With beating heart Donald scrambled for his match-box and made a light.</p>
+
+<p>No, there was the knapsack of provisions, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"> [97]</a></span> saucepan, the coffee-pot!
+In the corner, too, stood his own rifle. But Sandy's rifle was missing.</p>
+
+<p>Donald reflected a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy must be coming back. Ah, that was it! But where had he gone? Why
+should he rise up in the middle of the night, take the flock and dogs,
+and steal off in this noiseless fashion? The boy could not solve the
+enigma.</p>
+
+<p>For the present, at least, there was nothing to be done. He glanced at
+his watch. It was three o'clock. He turned into his sleeping-bag again,
+having first taken the precaution to put his rifle within easy reach.
+Yet try as he would he could not sleep. His eyes stared, broad awake, at
+the shadowy dome of the tent. He wished it was day.</p>
+
+<p>As he lay there straining his ears for the cadence of approaching
+herd-bells he was conscious of a muffled sound&mdash;a dull, soft footfall,
+as if some one was loitering stealthily about the tent. He heard it
+again. Then he could distinctly hear a sniffing at the corner of the
+tent near which the provisions lay.</p>
+
+<p>Donald's heart leaped to his throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"> [98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He could feel the blood pounding under his ears.</p>
+
+<p>Who was coming so near with that velvety tread?</p>
+
+<p>Noiselessly he wriggled out of his sleeping-bag and stood behind the
+flap of the tent, rifle in hand. Then he heard the unmistakable panting
+of some heavy creature&mdash;some creature so close to him that he could
+detect the rhythm of every breath it drew. Shaking in every limb he
+stole a look outside. Just beside the opening of his shelter he could
+see, clearly defined in the moonlight, a thick, dark shadow outlined on
+the grass. It was cast by some beast that was halting near the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>In another second it would be upon him.</p>
+
+<p>The boy caught his breath.</p>
+
+<p>There was no time to think.</p>
+
+<p>Raising his rifle, he fired at the great dark mass. Again he fired!</p>
+
+<p>Had he struck the mark?</p>
+
+<p>Another instant would tell.</p>
+
+<p>The creature would either roll over wounded, or would spring upon him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"> [99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He jammed back the trigger of his rifle. The tremor that had swept over
+him at first now left his hand. His arm was perfectly steady, his blood
+swinging in quick throbs through his body. He fired a third time.</p>
+
+<p>There was a heavy thud, the rolling of a black mass on the ground, a
+gasp, a growl! Then all was quiet.</p>
+
+<p>Still Donald dared not take any chances. He poured another round of shot
+into his victim. It did not move.</p>
+
+<p>Then cautiously he crept outside, his rifle tight in his grasp.</p>
+
+<p>There on the ground a shaggy object lay motionless.</p>
+
+<p>He went nearer.</p>
+
+<p>Then he gave a shout of astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bear!</p>
+
+<p>He had shot a bear&mdash;he, Donald Clark, alone and unaided, had really shot
+a bear! What a story to tell his father; and Sandy, too; and the fellows
+at home!</p>
+
+<p>Then, for the first time, he was conscious of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"> [100]</a></span> trembling in his arms.
+His knees felt strangely weak. Now that the excitement was over he
+realized that he wanted to sit down. His rifle slipped from his fingers
+and he dropped to the turf. There he rested in a dazed sort of way and
+reviewed the tragedy. Suppose he had not been awake? Suppose the bear
+had come into the tent while he lay there asleep and unarmed? In his
+heart he felt very grateful for his escape.</p>
+
+<p>Then there followed a disquieting thought&mdash;suppose there were other
+bears! He had often read of their coming in groups of fives and sixes.
+It was no time for him to sit limply on the ground. He caught up his
+rifle and recharged its empty chambers. Then before the tent door he sat
+until sunrise, anxiously scanning the dim pasture-land and the distant
+rocky fastnesses. It seemed as if the day would never come.</p>
+
+<p>Presently across the intervale he caught the faint tinkle of herd-bells.
+Over the brim of rolling green just ahead of him came the flock, Sandy
+leading them, and the collies nipping at their heels. The herder strode
+rapidly forward, waving<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"> [101]</a></span> his sombrero as he came. Donald ran to meet
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you safe and sound, laddie?" called Sandy when he got within
+shouting distance. "I have had a thousand minds about you&mdash;whether I
+ought not to have waked you, tired as you were, and taken you with me;
+or whether it was better to let you sleep. You see when the full moon
+rose the sheep set out grazing. It's a trick they have. Many a time they
+have done it; when they once set out no power on earth will stop them.
+So the dogs and I had to go along too. I reckoned you would sleep until
+we got back. The herd went farther, though, than I thought they would. I
+had great trouble rounding them up."</p>
+
+<p>As he talked they neared the camp where Sandy's keen eye took in at a
+glance every detail of the scene before him. Then he looked sharply at
+Donald. Under the thick tan the boy could see him pale. His lips became
+livid.</p>
+
+<p>"Donald, lad, you are not hurt?" he cried, motioning to the bear that
+lay stretched on the grass.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"> [102]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, Sandy, not a bit. Truly I'm not. See! Isn't he a big one?"</p>
+
+<p>"He is many a size too big for a boy like you to be fighting alone. I
+was a blind idiot to leave you behind me. Thank the good Lord you got
+off without a scratch. When I think of what might have come to you&mdash;&mdash;!
+The next time I'll no go grazing without you, Don. But who would have
+thought of a bear venturing into these lowlands! He must have been very
+hungry."</p>
+
+<p>Later Donald had to relate every part of his adventure, and they skinned
+the black bear and spread his hide out in the sun.</p>
+
+<p>"His coat is thicker than that of most bears at this season of the year.
+It will make a bonny rug for your father's office, Don. When the
+camp-tender comes we will send it back by him to the home ranch.
+Thornton can get it cured for you at Glen City and it will be a sightly
+present for your father. You are a son worth having!"</p>
+
+<p>"I want to be, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna bother your head. I've seen full a dozen lads worse than you!"
+was the grim reply.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"> [103]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII<br />
+
+A NARROW ESCAPE</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/idog.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+It was not long before Donald felt almost as at home in the hill country
+as did Sandy himself. They pitched camp and stayed in one place until
+the grazing began to get scarce; then they "pulled up" and tramped on.
+Sandy knew the region well and was therefore seldom at a loss to find
+water-holes. During the night they watched the flock, and as soon as the
+herd had fed in the morning and was ready to come to rest they left the
+dogs on guard and slept. Donald usually slept soundly, for the fresh air
+and exercise kept him in perfect health. Sandy, on the other hand,
+slept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"> [104]</a></span> with one eye open&mdash;or one ear open&mdash;the boy could never quite
+decide which it was. But the result was the same; by some mysterious
+means Sandy was always conscious of every move of his flock.</p>
+
+<p>Donald never tired of watching the young Scotchman. What a picture he
+was in his flannel blouse, open at the throat; his baggy trousers and
+sheepskin belt; his sombrero with its band of Mexican leather; and the
+field-glasses slung over his shoulder! From these glasses, his rifle,
+and his crook he was seldom parted. His great knuckles, broad from the
+grasp of his staff, were like iron; and his lithe, wiry body was never
+weary. And yet with all his strength Sandy was the gentlest of men with
+his sheep.</p>
+
+<p>To his dogs he was a god! Still, with all their devotion, the collies
+evidently understood that the sheep were their first care and they never
+deserted their watch to accompany Sandy when he went on a hunt for
+water-holes or more abundant feeding grounds. They were wonderfully
+intelligent animals&mdash;these collies. Donald constantly marveled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"> [105]</a></span> at their
+cleverness. They were quick in singling out the slow or wayward sheep
+and would bite their heels to hurry them along. They also recognized the
+leaders and it was to them that they communicated the directions Sandy
+gave them. Yet Sandy seldom spoke to his dogs. A motion of his arm and
+they would spring forward and follow out his wish. Only when he
+commanded it did they bark. With their drooping, bushy tails and sharp
+noses they reminded Donald far more of wolves than dogs. Sandy was kind
+to all of them, but it was Robin and Prince Charlie of which he was most
+fond. They had been bred from dogs his father had brought from the Old
+Country, he explained to Donald. There were few persons in the world for
+whom he cared so much. Once when Robin had been lost on the range the
+herder had traveled the hills three whole days to find him.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes shepherd dogs so different from other dogs, Sandy?" asked
+Donald one day.</p>
+
+<p>"Some of it is in their blood. They seem to want to herd sheep&mdash;they
+can't help it. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"> [106]</a></span> some of the credit of a fine sheep dog is due to
+his training. Why, I was months working over Robin and the Prince. I had
+them with goats and sheep from the time they were born. As soon as they
+were big enough I began teaching them to come when I called 'em. A good
+dog has got to learn to come to you when you speak. If he has done wrong
+he has got to come and be punished. Some dogs will run away when they
+see that you have caught them doing the wrong thing. You cannot let a
+sheep dog do that."</p>
+
+<p>"But how do you train them so they won't?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will tell you. It seems a heartless sort of way, but I had to do it.
+I tied them with a long piece of rope; then I called them. As soon as
+they came I spanked them good and hard, and afterward I'd pat them and
+give them a scrap of meat. They understood in time. They would come
+anyway&mdash;sure thing. If I whacked 'em it was all the same to them. By and
+by when they got so they would mind, I didn't have to whack 'em, and now
+it is seldom I lay hand to 'em. It was no pleasure to me, I can tell
+you, and I quit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"> [107]</a></span> it just as soon as I felt sure they would walk up like
+gentlemen whenever I spoke, no matter if they knew beforehand that they
+were to be whipped. You can see why this had to be, Don. Of course you
+know such dogs have the nature of wolves. In fact the better the
+shepherd dog, the more like a wolf he is. Now a wolf is a born enemy of
+sheep. Sometimes the wolf in a shepherd dog will get the better of him
+and he will turn about and kill the lambs instead of guarding them. If a
+sheep-dog is once a killer he has to die. You can never be sure of him
+again. So you cannot turn a dog loose on the range unless he will come
+to you when you speak."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose he might start killing sheep and you would not be able to get
+control of him," ventured Donald, much interested.</p>
+
+<p>"That is just it! He must come even if he knows he is to be shot the
+next minute. There is no safety for the sheep unless it is so. My dogs
+would come to me willy-nilly."</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it wonderful?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, unless you have been months and months,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"> [108]</a></span> as I was, getting them to
+do it; and even then it is rather wonderful. But a thing quite as
+wonderful as that is that they know every sheep in the flock. Let a ewe
+from another fold come in and they will scent her quick as lightning.
+And there is something else they will do: they understand well as
+ourselves that sheep will walk right over ledges and into pits, one
+after another; so the collies will stand guard at the edges of such
+places and warn 'em off. What is that but human, I ask you?"</p>
+
+<p>Donald nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"The men down at Crescent say," went on Sandy smiling broadly, "that I
+am daffy about dogs&mdash;my own dogs most of all. Well, haven't I cause?
+There is not a shepherd in this part of the country but would swap his
+collies for mine; or they'd buy them. I've been offered many a dollar
+for the two. But I'm no swapping my dogs, nor selling them, either!
+Sometimes, you know, we fat up sheep for the market and sell them as
+muttons. We then have to get the sheep into cars to send them off and it
+is no so easy if they haven't the mind to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"> [109]</a></span> go. Well, you should see
+Robin and the Prince at the job. They will run right along the backs of
+the herd, biting the necks of the leaders until they get them aimed
+where they want 'em to go; then they'll nip the heels of the others till
+they march up the planks into the cars neat as a line of soldiers. Or
+they will drive a flock onto a boat the same way. It is a great thing to
+get dogs that can do that. It takes more wit than a man has. Once a
+sheep-raiser from California saw Robin down at Glen City getting a lot
+of sheep off to Chicago on the train and he was hot for having him. He
+offered me into the hundreds if I would let him take the collie back
+with him."</p>
+
+<p>"And you wouldn't sell?"</p>
+
+<p>"The money ain't coined would tempt me to part with either of my dogs!"
+Sandy replied, with a contented shake of his head.</p>
+
+<p>He did not speak again, but lapsed into a thoughtful silence.</p>
+
+<p>There were many of these long silences during those days on the hills
+and to his surprise Donald had come to enjoy them. At first he had
+looked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"> [110]</a></span> forward eagerly to the coming of the camp-tender, who made his
+rounds three times a week. Not only did this Mexican bring fresh-baked
+bread, cold meat, and condensed milk to add to the campers' stock of
+salt pork, lentils, and coffee, but he brought messages from the outside
+world; gossip from the other herders; and now and then a letter from
+Donald's father. These visits were as exciting as to meet an ocean liner
+at sea. Gradually, however, Donald looked forward less and less to
+seeing the tiny Mexican burros with their loaded paniers wend their way
+up the hillsides. He grew into the shepherd life until like Sandy he
+found himself courting the sense of isolation and almost resenting the
+intrusion of the camp-tender.</p>
+
+<p>He could now understand why the herders who had lived on the range for
+years were such a silent lot of men. When his father and he had first
+arrived at Crescent Ranch the shepherds had had so little to say that
+Donald, who was a sensitive lad, had felt sure that the men did not like
+to have them come. Later, however, he had found the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"> [111]</a></span> herders kindly
+despite their taciturn manner. It was not ill-will but habitual silence.</p>
+
+<p>"What a lot of things people say that they don't need to, Sandy," he
+observed to the Scotchman one day.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy chuckled outright.</p>
+
+<p>"So you have come to that way of thinking, have you? We'll make a
+shepherd of you yet! Well, well, it is true enough. Folks chatter and
+chatter and what does it amount to? Many's the time they wish afterward
+they had held their tongues. But it is all as we're made. Some drop into
+being contented on the range; others cannot bear the stillness. I was
+ever happy alone in the open; but my brother Douglas was uneasy as a
+colt."</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't know you had a brother, Sandy!" exclaimed Donald, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, a little lad, five years younger than myself."</p>
+
+<p>"What&mdash;what became of him, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"What became of him&mdash;that's a question that I wish I could answer! He
+came to Crescent Ranch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"> [112]</a></span> years ago with my father and me and was about
+the place for a long time. But he was all for the city. He hated the
+quiet of the hills. He wanted to be seeing people and to be around in
+the rush of things, and he begged my father to let him go to some big
+place and find a job. My father was ever a strict man and he would have
+none of the youngster's going off by himself. There came a day, though,
+when the lad was so sore and unhappy that my father bid him set off for
+the East. There was no other way to satisfy the boy. But it was a sad
+time for my father&mdash;and for me, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Where did he go?"</p>
+
+<p>"To some city on the coast, I dinna just know where. We were ever
+thinking he would come back some day&mdash;but he never did. It is years now
+since I have had tidings from him. But sometimes when I am here by
+myself I cannot but wonder where he is and what has become of him. He'd
+be a man near twenty-five now."</p>
+
+<p>"Does my father know this?"</p>
+
+<p>"Likely not."</p>
+
+<p>"May I tell him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"> [113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Aye, to be sure. No boy should have secrets from his father."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't see why a boy should want to," declared Donald. "Why, my father
+and I are&mdash;well, we are the greatest friends in the world! I like to be
+with him better than any one else."</p>
+
+<p>"So I figure. He must be thinking now and again that he'd like a sight
+of you at Crescent instead of seeing Thornton every day."</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a man is Thornton, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a man do you take him to be?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not like him!" was the prompt reply.</p>
+
+<p>"And wherefore?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I&mdash;don't&mdash;know."</p>
+
+<p>"A poor reason. Dinna say that about any man until you get a better
+one."</p>
+
+<p>Donald colored.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy had dropped many a curt word that had brought the boy up,
+standing. Whatever else the young herder was he was just. Not only did
+Donald's liking, but his respect for him, increase.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, what happy days they passed together! Donald became so attached to
+the various camps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"> [114]</a></span> that he hated to leave them. Sometimes he and Sandy
+would stay in a spot a week, sometimes ten days; then onward and upward
+over the great plateaus of the mountains they made their way. These flat
+reaches of pasture-land were like huge steps. It was hard to realize
+that they were constantly climbing. Yet up, up, up they went! Each camp
+was several hundred feet higher than the last. As they went on the
+pasturage became richer, the air cooler. Clear streams from melting,
+snowy summits rushed along, leaving pathways of music behind them. With
+a hawk's keenness Sandy chose the most fertile stretches of grass for
+the flock.</p>
+
+<p>"The weight of the clip depends on good grazing," he explained to
+Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"The clip?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, the wool. Wool is sold by the pound, you must know. The better the
+feed, the thicker the wool. We must look out, though, for poisoned
+meadows. There do be many in this region."</p>
+
+<p>"Poisoned meadows!"</p>
+
+<p>"Fields where poison herbage grows. Hundreds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"> [115]</a></span> of sheep lose their lives
+devouring poisonous weeds. Keep your eye out for signs, laddie."</p>
+
+<p>"Signs! Signs up here!"</p>
+
+<p>"Where else? That is one of the many things our United States government
+does for us. It posts notices of poisoned meadows to warn the grazers on
+the range."</p>
+
+<p>"That is a pretty nice thing to do!" Donald said.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure enough it is," agreed Sandy. "Some day the survey will have all
+the water-holes catalogued along with the poisoned herbage, and will
+then be able to direct herders to the best grazing grounds. That is what
+the government is busy trying to do now."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet sheep-owners kick at paying for permits," exclaimed Donald.
+"Why, lots of that permit money must come back in this way to the very
+men who pay it."</p>
+
+<p>"For certain! And mind what I'm telling you&mdash;you will see more things
+that the government is doing for the herders when you get higher up. You
+will see great pastures fenced in with coyote-proof wire&mdash;pastures to be
+used in lambing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"> [116]</a></span> time so the young creatures will be safe from
+prairie-dogs."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you have coyotes on the range?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do we? Do we? Folks would know you for a tenderfoot right off if they
+heard you ask that question! The coyote, I'd have you know, is the pest
+of the sheepman. He's the meanest critter&mdash;but there, why be talking?
+You'll see for yourself soon enough. The government has spent thousands
+of dollars killing coyotes on these ranges."</p>
+
+<p>"To help the sheep-raisers?"</p>
+
+<p>"So."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't wonder my father wanted Crescent Ranch to pay its full
+share for permits. Since we are getting all these advantages, we ought
+to bear our part of the expense, oughtn't we?" said Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"That's my feeling. We ought to be proud, too, we are bearing it. It's a
+grand country! I wasn't born here, like you, but I came here as a child,
+and the bones of my people are here. I mean to live in America and take
+what it offers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"> [117]</a></span> and wouldn't I be the churl not to give the little I
+can in return! I haven't money, but I can live up to the laws. Scotchman
+though I be 'twill no hinder me from making a good American of myself."</p>
+
+<p>"Bully for you, Sandy!" cried Donald. Then he added soberly: "I am going
+to be a better American when I get back home."</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna wait till then, laddie&mdash;be a better one now!"</p>
+
+<p>Sandy chanced to be deftly cutting the outline of a thistle on a spruce
+staff he was carving for the boy. Donald watched him in silence as he
+worked in the fading light. The sun had set behind the chain of near
+hills, and the plateau where they were camping was gray with shadows.
+Through the dusk they could see the flock lazily browsing among the
+junipers.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly there was a cry from Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>He threw down the staff and sprang to his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"The herd!" he shouted. "They're off!"</p>
+
+<p>Sure enough! Without a cry the leaders had started for the rimrock, and
+in their wake&mdash;straight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"> [118]</a></span> for the face of the precipice&mdash;was running the
+entire flock.</p>
+
+<p>"They're startled!" gasped Sandy. "We must head 'em off. Run for your
+life! We must get between the brainless creatures and the cliff before
+they go over."</p>
+
+<p>Donald ran. He had never run so before. His training as a track sprinter
+stood him in good stead now. But he had never been a long-distance
+runner. Two hundred yards was his limit. Moreover he was not in
+training. But he ran&mdash;ran as he did not know he could run. He gained on
+the sheep. Sandy, in the meantime, was waving his arms to the dogs who,
+understanding his slightest motion, now dashed ahead. The sheep,
+however, were far in advance by this time. On they sped in mad panic.
+Donald could run no more. He began to lag, his heart beating like a
+hammer. Even Sandy, who from the opposite direction was racing for the
+edge of the rock, slackened his pace.</p>
+
+<p>The race was a hopeless one.</p>
+
+<p>Then without warning, out of the trees at the left side of the field
+rode a horseman at full gallop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"> [119]</a></span> With flying hoofs he cut in ahead of
+the herd just as they neared the face of the rock.</p>
+
+<p>The leaders swerved, circled, and turned about. The gait of the
+stampeding flock lessened. The dogs skilfully steered the approaching
+sheep out to one side where Sandy scattered them that they might not
+collide with the ranks coming toward them. Gradually the fears of the
+flock became quieted. Falling into a walk they worked their way into
+their customary places and turned about, feeding as they went.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately when Sandy saw them safe he pressed forward to the side of
+the horseman where he beckoned Donald to join him.</p>
+
+<p>"I spied your plight from the ridge above, Sandy McCulloch," called the
+rider. "The rest of the Crescent herd has gone in to the Reserve and I
+have had my eye out for you for days. I thought it was about time that
+you were coming along."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a good turn you've done me this day, Sargeant," Donald heard Sandy
+say.</p>
+
+<p>"You have done many a favor for me."</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna be talking. It is little I ever did for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"> [120]</a></span> you. An errand or two
+perhaps, or carrying a message&mdash;but what is that? Any man would be glad
+to do the same. To-night, though, you have saved my whole herd. We
+should not have had a sheep left. Here is Master Donald Clark, the son
+of our owner," went on Sandy, as Donald came nearer. "Let him thank you.
+Don, this soldier is one of the government rangers."</p>
+
+<p>Leaning from his saddle the horseman put out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I am proud," he said, "to meet one of the owners of Crescent Ranch. If
+you are learning about the range, Master Clark, you cannot be in better
+company than to be with Sandy McCulloch. There is little about sheeping
+that he doesn't know; nor is there a cleaner-handed herder to be found.
+We never need to see his permit or count his sheep. He is no
+lawbreaker!"</p>
+
+<p>"I hope none of our men are," replied Donald, shyly.</p>
+
+<p>"Crescent Ranch has always had the reputation of being run on the
+square. We have no complaint to make," was the ranger's answer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"> [121]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;my father means that it shall be," the boy asserted modestly.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not doubt he does. You will have trouble, though, I fear, in
+finding another manager who can match Old Angus&mdash;or even Johnson. They
+were rare men who were famed throughout the county for their honesty and
+common sense."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall try to find some other manager as good."</p>
+
+<p>"May you be so fortunate. Good luck to you!"</p>
+
+<p>With a wave of his hand the ranger cantered into the darkness and was
+soon lost from sight.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, don't you, Don, that the rangers are not our natural born
+enemies after all," said Sandy, with a good-humored smile that bared his
+glistening teeth.</p>
+
+<p>"I should say not!"</p>
+
+<p>"They are all like that if we but live up to our part of the bargain. I
+never yet met a ranger who was not friendly and kind. But you cannot
+have folks for your friends if you do not meet them half-way."</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"> [122]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br />
+
+DONALD HAS A SURPRISE</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/isheep.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+It was something of a disappointment when one morning a week or two
+later the camp-tender, who had scrambled up over the rimrock, informed
+Donald that he was to return to the central camp where his father would
+meet him, and take him back to Crescent.</p>
+
+<p>"The ponies are tethered just below, so you can ride down along with
+me," said the Mexican. "There is nothing the matter, only your father
+has more than he can do with but Thornton and Green to help him. He
+needs you for a while.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"> [123]</a></span> He told me to tell you that in a few weeks you
+might come back."</p>
+
+<p>Donald looked regretfully at Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sorry to go, Sandy. I promised, though, that I would return to
+Crescent whenever father wanted me; of course I am anxious to help him
+all I can. I cannot realize that it is June, and that I have been two
+months on the range. What a jolly time we have had! It seems a pity to
+go and leave you here by yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"It would not be the first time I have been alone in the hills," smiled
+Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll not be by himself either," put in Pete, the Mexican, "for Tobin
+came up over the trail with me and is to bear Sandy company."</p>
+
+<p>Donald's face brightened.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you'll not be lonely, Sandy," he said, "but suppose anything
+happened to you&mdash;what if you happened to be hurt as Johnson was?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye, poor Johnson! What do they hear from him, Pete?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Clark has been to Glen City a number of times to see him. He is
+getting on finely! The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"> [124]</a></span> ribs are mending and the hip, too. His heart is
+the trouble now; he is breaking his heart for Crescent and the range.
+The doctor says that he will never be able to come back to the ranch.
+Mr. Clark is going to settle him and his wife on a farm of their own in
+California, where their son is."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am very glad!" cried Donald. "Father said he should always look
+out for Johnson because he had been so faithful."</p>
+
+<p>"It is like your father to do it&mdash;and like your grandfather, too, Don.
+May you be as good a man! Now get your traps together and be off with
+Pete. It's many a time I'll be thinking of you after you are gone,
+laddie."</p>
+
+<p>"But you know I am coming back in a few weeks, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>"There's long weeks and short weeks; it all depends on what you're
+doing," was Sandy's whimsical answer. "Now be off. Why, you'd think I
+was seeing you to India instead of just down to the lowlands!"</p>
+
+<p>As he dropped over the rimrock, Donald tried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"> [125]</a></span> to laugh. It was not until
+he was mounted upon the little Mexican pony that he gained courage to
+look up. Outlined against the sky Sandy was standing on a point of rock,
+waving his sombrero. That was the last Donald saw of him.</p>
+
+<p>Chatting as they rode down the mountainside the boy and Pete pressed
+forward over the trail. At noon they dismounted and lunched on salt-pork
+and pilot bread. Then off they cantered again. The tiny ponies,
+sure-footed as mules, made their way over the steep inclines of the
+hilly country with astonishing daintiness, but although they maintained
+a fair and even speed it was sunset when the white top of the prairie
+schooner came into sight, drawn up beside a stream and sheltered by a
+group of great trees. Several Mexican ponies were pastured near it. The
+curtains at the end of the wagon were parted and fastened back and
+inside Donald could catch a glimpse of Manuel, the Mexican cook, busily
+preparing the food. A curl of faint smoke rose from the tin pipe which
+protruded through the canvas, arching the top of the wagon. Then as
+Donald looked, into the clearing came the erect figure of his father.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"> [126]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/i125.png" width="400" height="563"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">THE PANTING PONY STOOD STILL</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"> [127]</a></span>The boy gave a shrill whistle on his fingers and touched the spurs to
+his horse's flank.</p>
+
+<p>"Father!" he called.</p>
+
+<p>Another moment and the panting pony stood still near the wagon, his
+sides heaving.</p>
+
+<p>Donald dismounted and ran to meet his father.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well!" was Mr. Clark's first exclamation. "How is this? I sent a
+pale-faced American boy to the range and I get an Indian in exchange!"</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I am tanned," laughed Donald. "I know my hands are. As for my
+face&mdash;I have not seen it since I started. We don't have looking-glasses
+in the hills."</p>
+
+<p>"And you enjoyed your trip?"</p>
+
+<p>"I had the time of my life, father! It is simply bully up there. I wish
+you had been along."</p>
+
+<p>"I am planning to go back with you in two or three weeks. It seemed a
+pity to bring you down, but I did need you, Don. If it had only been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"> [128]</a></span>
+that I missed you I should not have sent, no matter how much I wanted to
+see you."</p>
+
+<p>"I was glad to come, sir. How is everything at Crescent?"</p>
+
+<p>"Going well. We are getting in a big crop of alfalfa from the south
+meadow. That is why I wanted you. You will now have to turn farmer and
+pitch hay for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"All right!"</p>
+
+<p>And that was what Donald did. For the next few weeks he was busy helping
+his father harvest the first crop of alfalfa grass, drying it, and
+storing it away in the great sprawling barn of the home ranch for winter
+feed. Days of hard work were succeeded by nights of heavy slumber. Life
+was very real. The boy was doing something&mdash;something that
+told&mdash;something that was of use to other persons; he had a place to
+fill, duties for which he was responsible. Continually he found himself
+speaking of "our ranch" and suggesting to his father that "we" do such
+and such things.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark rubbed his hands with satisfaction. Although he and Donald had
+always preserved a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"> [129]</a></span> close comradeship no experience had ever drawn them
+so near together as had this common interest. It was happiness to each
+of them. From the time the boy tumbled out of bed in the early morning
+until he tumbled in again at dusk his whistle could be heard shrill
+above the click of mowing-machines, and the tramp of horses' hoofs.</p>
+
+<p>At last came the day when the last load of alfalfa was housed under
+cover; then Mr. Clark said to Thornton:</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Thornton, there seems to be nothing more for which we shall be
+needed at present. You can deal out the rations and send them to the
+three central camps without me; you can also order necessary supplies
+from Glen City. Some repairs remain for you to oversee, but I am sure
+you fully understand about them, and can manage them without my help.
+To-morrow, therefore, if the day is fine, Donald and I will set out for
+the range, I think."</p>
+
+<p>Donald threw his hat into the air.</p>
+
+<p>"To join Sandy, father?" he asked eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"That is my plan."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"> [130]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Hurrah!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark looked amused at his enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"One would think you a born shepherd, Don, instead of a boy who has only
+been out on the range with a herder."</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you call Sandy just a herder, father?" Donald asked, seeming to
+fear that the term was a slight to his friend the Scotchman.</p>
+
+<p>"Because he is a herder, son. A shepherd is a man who herds or tends his
+own sheep&mdash;sheep that belong to him; a herder, on the contrary, is a man
+hired to care for other people's sheep. There is a great difference, you
+see. Generally speaking, a shepherd will take more pains with a flock
+than a herder will on the principle that we are more interested in our
+own possessions than in those which are not our own."</p>
+
+<p>"No one could take better care of sheep, father, than Sandy does."</p>
+
+<p>"I feel sure of that," agreed his father, gravely. "In fact all our
+herders are honest men&mdash;I am convinced of it. After the next shearing I
+mean to give to each man a small band of sheep for his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"> [131]</a></span> own. He may run
+them with the flocks, sell the wool, and keep the money as a nest-egg.
+The men deserve a share in the profits of Crescent Ranch and I should
+like them to have it in return for their splendid spirit of loyalty."</p>
+
+<p>"Even Thornton?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been watching Thornton," he admitted slowly. "That is why I kept
+him with me, and why I stayed behind."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I never thought of that being the reason!"</p>
+
+<p>"It was my chief reason."</p>
+
+<p>"But now you are going off and leaving Thornton alone," Donald said,
+somewhat puzzled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and I am leaving him in a position of trust, too. The supplies and
+much of our business is in his hands. He knows it. If he proves himself
+worthy, I shall appoint him, when we leave here, as manager in Johnson's
+place; if he abuses the confidence I am placing in him he will force me
+to appoint some one else. I wish to be perfectly fair."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"> [132]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"But I do not like Thornton," declared Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"We must never be guided by our prejudices, Don."</p>
+
+<p>"And anyway," went on the boy, "I don't see how you will know what he is
+doing. You will be miles away in the hills. He could do almost anything
+he chose. Have you left some one to watch him, father?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, indeed, son. That would be a mean method; don't you think so? To
+set a trap for a man, or to spy upon him would be contemptible!"</p>
+
+<p>Donald hung his head, ashamed of the suggestion.</p>
+
+<p>"No," continued Mr. Clark less severely, "I have left no one on guard
+over Thornton but himself. I am really trusting him."</p>
+
+<p>"You will never find out what he does, then."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I shall."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see how."</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton himself shall tell me."</p>
+
+<p>Donald gasped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"> [133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He never will tell you, father!" announced the boy positively.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait and see. Now let us think no more of Thornton, for it is of Sandy
+that we are to talk. He has a great surprise for you."</p>
+
+<p>"A surprise for me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark studied the lad's mystified expression with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"A surprise for me!" repeated Donald. "What can it be!"</p>
+
+<p>"You will see."</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going to tell me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not a word. It would spoil Sandy's fun."</p>
+
+<p>"A surprise!" reiterated Donald over and over.</p>
+
+<p>As they rode from the central camp up over the rough trail Don
+speculated constantly as to what could be in store for him. It seemed a
+long journey for he was impatient to solve the waiting enigma. What
+surprise could Sandy have concocted? At the border of the Reserve they
+met the ranger who chanced to be patrolling that portion of the
+government line. He remembered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"> [134]</a></span> Donald very well and greeted him kindly;
+he also had a cordial word for Mr. Clark. Donald, however, begrudged
+even this brief delay and was glad when they plunged into the woods and
+were on their way through the National Forest.</p>
+
+<p>Pete, the Mexican camp-tender who had come with them as guide, knew the
+country as an American boy knows his A&nbsp;B&nbsp;C's. He hunted out sheltered
+nooks where they could camp at night, taking great care to build the
+fire on a rocky base that it might not set ablaze the brush and litter
+of pine-needles about them.</p>
+
+<p>"Many a careless shepherd sets a forest fire through being thoughtless,"
+he said. "Acres of timber will be burned off a hillside by one person
+who did not put out his fire, or scattered sparks in the dried
+underbrush. Old Angus trained us Crescent men always to build our fires
+on a flat rock if we could; then there is no danger of our doing damage
+in the reserve or elsewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a wise plan," Mr. Clark said heartily. "I wish all herders were
+as careful."</p>
+
+<p>So they journeyed on&mdash;now in the sunlight of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"> [135]</a></span> the plateaus, now in the
+shadows of the forest. Then one morning they suddenly emerged into an
+emerald meadow glowing with sunshine. There a beautiful sight met
+Donald's eye.</p>
+
+<p>Spread out like a fan the herd was grazing on the rich herbage of the
+mountain pasture, their backs to the brilliant light as was their wont.
+But of these details Donald was not conscious. What held him spellbound
+was the miracle that had happened in his absence. Now he knew the
+surprise that Sandy had for him! Beside every ewe in the flock stood a
+tiny white lamb!</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"> [136]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX<br />
+
+A SECOND ADVENTURE</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/dsheep.png" width="150" height="173"
+     alt="" />
+Donald's delight at being back on the range was equaled only by Sandy's
+pleasure at having him there. The first thing, of course, was to display
+the lambs to the boy and Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>With no little pride the Scotchman led the newcomers over the pasture,
+pointing out the finest blooded creatures in the flock.</p>
+
+<p>"One would think, Sandy, that you were a mother hen with a brood of
+chicks!" laughed Donald's father. "Well, you have a right to be pleased
+with your herd. You have a fine lot of lambs."</p>
+
+<p>"They are no so handsome just now, sir,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"> [137]</a></span> Sandy chuckled. "But give them
+time! A few weeks more, and a winsome sight they'll be."</p>
+
+<p>"Are&mdash;are&mdash;lambs always so long-legged?" queried Donald timidly, anxious
+not to hurt Sandy's feelings. "These seem to have no bodies at all&mdash;just
+legs."</p>
+
+<p>"That is their nature, lad. They have only enough body to keep their
+legs alive. Young lambs are ever like that. Later they fill out. It is
+their strong legs that enable them to travel with the flock as soon as
+they are three or four weeks old. But I am proud of them&mdash;legs or no
+legs. Now that they are here, our next task is to bring them through
+alive. We have lost but a few thus far. Luckily we had several sets of
+twins, so we have been able to give a lamb to every mother sheep that
+lost her baby. We fasten the strange lamb inside the skin of the dead
+one, and the mother is as well pleased as if she had her own back
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"What a funny idea!" Donald said.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, isn't it? You see sheep recognize their young merely by scent. The
+power of smell is remarkably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"> [138]</a></span> keen in all sheep. They can tell their
+babies no other way. We do not want any of the ewes grieving because
+they have no lamb&mdash;they do grieve, poor things&mdash;so we have to fool them
+a little. It is a fair thing to do because the ewes with twins do not
+need two. They are just as happy with one," explained Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"And now you will have a big, big flock to take care of, won't you,
+Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Aye! There is much more to do now. I am glad you have come back, Don,
+for I can put you to work."</p>
+
+<p>"You must put me to work also, Sandy," Mr. Clark observed, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I reckon not. It would be a fine thing for me to be asking a
+gentleman like you to put your hand to anything, now wouldn't it!"</p>
+
+<p>Evidently the idea amused the herder.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?" Mr. Clark asked seriously. "I am used to putting my hand to
+much hard work when I am at home. Everybody in this world works one way
+or another. Some of us work with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"> [139]</a></span> our heads, some with our hands; but so
+long as it is all honest, helpful work and we do it the best we can, we
+are all on equal footing, Sandy. Now if you were in my office in Boston
+I might be teaching you kinds of work that would be new to you; here you
+can teach me. Try and forget everything, and just consider me a person
+who is interested in sheep and wants to learn about them. Let me join
+Donald in helping all I can."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take you at your word then, sir, since you urge me. I'm no denying
+it will make matters simpler. There is enough to do&mdash;more than enough,
+and extra help will be welcome. Luigi will be going down with the
+ponies, I suppose, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he is to take them back, and stay and aid Thornton at the ranch."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you will have a place to fill right away, Mr. Clark. Some of the
+men who have been helping have gone down already, but I have kept Tobin
+and a couple of the Mexicans. Still it is no so easy to protect so many
+lambs from the coyotes. Lambing time is their great feasting season. A
+coyote is a mean creature, sir. Yet despise 'em as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140"> [140]</a></span> you may you cannot
+help admiring their cunning. There is no smarter animal alive than a
+coyote!"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell us about them."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy dropped down on a rock beside Mr. Clark and Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"A coyote, as of course you know, is a wee bit wolf, about the size of a
+fox, and there is no feed he enjoys so well as a young lamb. Coyotes
+seem to know when the lambs come and they make ready to raid the flocks.
+You'd think folks would be bright enough to catch 'em, but there ain't
+wit enough in the world to get ahead of them. They're the cutest! The
+tricks a coyote will invent, sir, pass belief. In spite of the fact this
+pasture is fenced with coyote-proof wire the creatures manage to get
+in&mdash;goodness only knows how."</p>
+
+<p>"Have they bothered you much, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Have they! Haven't we built fires round the herd every night and
+patrolled the whole distance, back and forth, until light? Luigi,
+Bernardo, Carlos, and I have been on our feet from twilight until
+sunrise, tramping like sentinels; yet with all our care we have lost six
+lambs already. Six is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141"> [141]</a></span> many when you consider the numbers some
+herders lose, still it is just six too many. So you see if Luigi goes
+down over the trail to-day with the ponies we can find work for you and
+Donald to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I think it will be great fun to patrol!" cried Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Think you so? Well, mayhap you will find it sport, since you haven't
+been doing it night after night for two weeks, lad."</p>
+
+<p>Donald regarded him good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>"There will be plenty of work waiting you by day, too," Sandy went on.
+"Just now we are busy inserting the flock mark in the ear of each
+lamb&mdash;a metal button with a crescent on it. The next ranch to ours is
+Anchor Ranch, and their herd is marked with an anchor, while down beyond
+lies Star Ranch. It behooves us to keep close track of our herds and
+mark them carefully. Then in addition to the marking we must dock the
+tails of the lambs lest they become foul; and we must record every lamb.
+We have a book where we enter the number of the mother and opposite it
+the number<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142"> [142]</a></span> of her lamb. That is the way we keep track of the breeds."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I had no idea you had so many things to do, Sandy," said Donald.
+"It is almost as bad as taking the census."</p>
+
+<p>"It is, and it all has to be done correctly, too. You can look up in the
+books the history of every sheep we have at Crescent Ranch. The pure
+breed lambs have to be registered with the Breed Secretary, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Sheep-raising seems to lead from one thing into another," reflected
+Donald. "In the East none of us ever think of all that the wool goes
+through before it is made into clothes for us."</p>
+
+<p>"It is better than any story," was Sandy's reply. "Herders get tired of
+it sometimes, but I never do. Sheeping is in my blood, I reckon. What
+with herding and trailing the flock, what with bears, and bob-cats, and
+cougars, and coyotes&mdash;I dinna see how it would ever be dull."</p>
+
+<p>"That is because you love your work, Sandy," said Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"I do. Take me from the ranch, sir, and blindfold<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143"> [143]</a></span> me even, and I verily
+believe I'd find my way back again. Now a bit more about the coyotes. If
+you are to be of help you must hear all I can tell you so that you will
+know the better how to fight 'em. Sometimes they'll yelp like a dog and
+trick you into thinking your own collies are in trouble; but do not
+trust them. 'Twill be no collies but themselves that are barking. Again
+they will cheat you into believing that they are far away, so gentle
+will be their cry; that is to throw you off the track. Or they will bark
+in two keys as if there were twice as many of them as there really are.
+They are the canny ones! Then when you pick up your gun and go where you
+think they are, they will no be there; 'twill be at a different spot
+they are at work."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Don," said Mr. Clark, "I do not see but you and I have something
+ahead of us. I am afraid we shall be of very little help, Sandy. Why,
+one ought to be an expert to catch such a gamester as a coyote!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you're no grudging us the loss of six lambs, Mr. Clark."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"> [144]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I do not see how you did so well&mdash;to lose only six in a great flock
+like this!"</p>
+
+<p>"But even so, sir, I was that wrathful when I found I had been outwitted
+I could have cried. You see six or seven coyotes put their heads
+together, as they have a way of doing, and cut a group of lambs off from
+the herd&mdash;got between them and the flock. It took the dogs to drive 'em
+away. Robin and the Prince are great fighters, and Colin is not far
+behind. Before we got rid of them, though, we had lost three lambs. The
+next time they tried a different trick: part of them barked and drew the
+dogs to a corner of the pasture, and then the rest came down on the
+unprotected end of the fold and carried away three more lambs."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there nothing that will stop them?" asked Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"We have tried many things. Some herders put strychnine in the carcasses
+of dead lambs and poison a few of the coyotes; most of them are too
+clever to be caught that way, though. The government has also killed
+many. Perhaps to-night,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"> [145]</a></span> Don, you may have a share in the good work. But
+I warn you do not send a bullet through one of my dogs, thinking his
+barking is the yelp of one of these range thieves."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I'll be careful," Donald promised, as he sprang up and ran to
+the edge of the rimrock to wave a good-bye to Luigi, who was
+disappearing round a curve of the trail.</p>
+
+<p>"The lad is happy as a king here on the range, Sandy," Mr. Clark
+remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"He takes to it as if he had been bred on the hills, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish he might like the work well enough to go into the business with
+me some time."</p>
+
+<p>"There is no telling. He is but young yet. When he is old as I, mayhap
+he may choose to settle down and be a wool-grower."</p>
+
+<p>"How old are you, Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should be near thirty, sir, I'm thinking, though I haven't always had
+a birthday cake out here on the hills," was the whimsical reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Thirty! A rare age for such a level head as yours!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"> [146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I dinna ken about the head, Mr. Clark. My father used to say it was the
+heart that counted most. Now what say you to a basin of hot lentil
+soup?" inquired the Scotchman, changing the subject. "You and Donald
+must be hungry."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe we are. Let us go down to the tent. I see Donald there
+already, building the fire."</p>
+
+<p>After having eaten a hearty meal they left the flock which was resting
+or grazing near by in charge of the dogs, and Mr. Clark, Donald, and the
+men turned in to snatch a few hours' sleep in anticipation of the long
+watch before them.</p>
+
+<p>It was deep twilight when they awoke.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy shook Donald by the shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"We must be up and away, laddie," he said, as the boy turned drowsily.
+"It's a man's work&mdash;real work you're doing here; you are no playing
+sheep-raiser. Rouse your father, snatch a bit of bread, and come and
+help me set the watch-fires. See, the Mexicans are already ahead of us."</p>
+
+<p>With quick step he was off.</p>
+
+<p>"Dinna forget your rifle," he called as he went.</p>
+
+<p>Donald was on his feet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"> [147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Father," he shouted, "Sandy says we must be starting out."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark sat up.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised to obey Sandy, sure enough," he yawned, "and I like him all
+the better for routing me out, sleepy though I am. I will be with you in
+a moment. Where is Sandy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Setting watch-fires along the outer edge of the pasture. He says to
+bring your rifle."</p>
+
+<p>A little later and they had overtaken the Scotchman, who was striding
+along through the darkness, swinging his lantern.</p>
+
+<p>"It is here I'll station you, Mr. Clark," said Sandy simply. "Patrol
+this border as far as the bonfire; then turn backward and go until you
+meet Bernardo. Donald will pace between the next two fires, and the
+Mexicans and myself will complete the circle round the flock. Be careful
+lest bob-cats steal down on you unawares; they come softly as mice, make
+no fuss, and kill so quickly that they seldom disturb the herd. It is
+likely we will no be troubled with them because of the fenced-in
+pasture. Now cougars will leap<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"> [148]</a></span> the fence without the dogs knowing them
+to be at hand, too, and will take their kill off over their shoulders
+and disappear. We have seen no cougars, though, this year, and here's
+hoping that we won't. While you are patrolling I'd advise you to fire
+now and again, even though no beasts are in sight; it scares them off.
+Now I've told you all I can. Good-night."</p>
+
+<p>Away into the falling darkness sped Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>Donald began his patrol. As he trudged back and forth on his beat he
+could catch an occasional glimpse of the Scotchman, who stopped to toss
+a few sticks on the fire or halted an instant to exchange a word with
+one of the Mexicans. The boy could also see his father's dim figure
+walking to and fro. It was dull work, this monotonous tramp. Donald
+looked up at the canopy of stars and thought he had never seen so many.
+He yawned, and yawned a second time. Still he kept up his even jog along
+the outskirts of the fold.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was conscious of a low whine not far away. It was repeated.
+Then came a loud<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149"> [149]</a></span> barking as if a pack of wolves were on the other side
+of the pasture. He heard Sandy's voice echoing on the clear air. Two
+shots followed. Perhaps the coyotes were over there; or could it be a
+cougar or a bear? How he longed to be in the midst of the sport! Why
+should he stay on this quiet, unmolested border of the pasture? Nothing
+was happening here! An impulse to join his father or Sandy swept over
+him; then a thought rose in his mind and held him back&mdash;if he left his
+patrol he would be a deserter, a deserter as blameworthy as any sentry
+who fled from his post. Straightening up proudly, the boy resumed his
+even pace.</p>
+
+<p>It was just as he turned that he caught sight of a crouching form
+slipping along the ground toward the edge of the flock. With a sharp
+flash Donald's rifle rang out. He shot into the air, not daring to aim
+toward the pasture lest unwittingly he injure some of the sheep in the
+darkness. His shot was answered by a yelp and a quick rush. Colin
+bounded to his side, sniffed, and darted into the herd.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150"> [150]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A commotion followed.</p>
+
+<p>There was a struggle, a low growl of rage.</p>
+
+<p>Then the collie trotted back to Donald's side dragging in his teeth a
+limp mass which he dropped at the lad's feet.</p>
+
+<p>The boy struck a match and turned the creature over with his foot.</p>
+
+<p>It was a coyote!</p>
+
+<p>Then how glad he was that he had not left his post!</p>
+
+<p>At dawn Sandy came to relieve him. The herder glanced first at the dead
+coyote, then at some faint tracks in the moist earth.</p>
+
+<p>"You have interrupted a midnight orgy, Don," he declared at last,
+rubbing his hands together as he always did when anything pleased him
+very much. "Here are the marks of at least four coyotes that were
+stealing down on the flock when you fired. You got this one, and
+evidently drove off the others. I wish we had had as good luck on our
+side of the fold. In spite of his watchfulness Bernardo lost two lambs.
+He is one of our best herders, too, and he is sore about it. You have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151"> [151]</a></span>
+done a good night's work, lad. I am proud of my pupil!"</p>
+
+<p>And as Donald heard Sandy's words his lips parted in a smile and he felt
+he would have patrolled a line twice as long to have earned the young
+Scotchman's praise.</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152"> [152]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X<br />
+
+A PREDICTION THAT CAME TRUE</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/wbear.png" width="150" height="164"
+     alt="" />
+When the lambs were three weeks old Sandy decided to break camp, leave
+the fenced lambing-pasture, and push on to higher ground.</p>
+
+<p>"The sun is getting hot and we must have cooler quarters," he explained.
+"By nature sheep seek elevated ground, you know, and their health is
+better there. Now that their fleeces are getting so much thicker the
+poor beasts are too warm in the low places. What is more, they need the
+exercise of climbing. Grass, too, is becoming scant and we must not eat
+it down too close."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark agreed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"> [153]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Therefore a clear July morning saw the vast herd winding its way up the
+steep incline of the mountainside. Sandy went on ahead, guiding the
+flock to the best pasturage and the freshest water-holes. The lambs
+trotted at their mother's sides or frisked after them with the
+playfulness of kittens. When a plentiful water supply and rich grass was
+found Sandy often delayed the upward march a week or more, that the
+flock might make the most of the lush herbage. When feed was meager
+there were days of scrambling up rocky stretches, and nights of
+patrolling the fold. Then more days of climbing would follow. Sometimes
+a scarcity of water forced them to press on against their will.</p>
+
+<p>They had now reached a high elevation, but the warmth of the July
+weather rendered the coolness welcome. The sheep gladly sought out the
+forest shade or, when they were above the timber-line, rested in the
+shadow of the high rocks. This rough land seemed to be the favorite
+place for their sports, and Donald and his father were never tired
+watching them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154"> [154]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A single sheep would mount a boulder, from which vantage ground he would
+stand looking down at the herd. In a moment several of the flock would
+rush forward, butt him from the rock, and one of them would take his
+place, only to be driven down and succeeded by the next victor. The
+sheep often played this for a long time.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a good game, too," declared Sandy, "for to rush up the side of a
+high rock like that and not slip back makes them sure-footed."</p>
+
+<p>Another game the flock sometimes played was Follow the Leader, one old
+ewe marching ahead, followed by a line of sheep that went wherever she
+led them.</p>
+
+<p>"They play it almost as well as we did at school," said Donald, much
+amused.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a useful game too," went on Sandy. "By playing it the young
+lambs learn to follow the others, and do what they do. That is one way
+they get training to keep in the herd and obey the mind of the leader.
+It is really more of a lesson than a game. I suspect, though, they are
+like us&mdash;so long as they think it is a game they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155"> [155]</a></span> like to play it.
+Perhaps, now, if we were to hint to them it was a lesson they might
+never play it again."</p>
+
+<p>Donald chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>There were many times when it seemed to him that Sandy must be a boy of
+fourteen instead of a man of forty; yet the next moment the Scotchman
+would address him with the gravity of a grandfather, and immediately
+Donald felt very young indeed. A strange mixture of youth and wisdom was
+Sandy McCulloch!</p>
+
+<p>As the lambs were now old enough to travel with the flock there was no
+further need for the Mexicans to linger on the range, and they therefore
+went back over the trail to busy themselves at the home ranch until
+shearing time. The camp-tender, too, did not now take time to make the
+difficult journey up into the mountains, but left supplies at a given
+spot in the lower pastures, or met some of the party half-way and
+delivered over the provisions. If the rations were left it fell to the
+lot of one of the campers on the upper range to ride down on the pony
+and bring back "the grub," as Sandy called it. Once when Mr. Clark<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156"> [156]</a></span> went
+down it was only to find that the supplies had been scented out by a
+bear and dragged away; in consequence the party on the mountain were
+forced to get on without bread or fresh provisions until the tender made
+his next round.</p>
+
+<p>At times it was Donald's turn to make this trip; on other days Sandy or
+Bernardo went. As there was always the chance of meeting a grizzly or a
+rattler the journey was not without its perils.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the summer passed.</p>
+
+<p>Then came the fall days, when threatened cold made it necessary to turn
+the heads of the herd toward the lower hills of the winter range.
+Downward they wended their way. Flurries of snow caught them unawares
+and at these blizzards Sandy's face always became grave, for it was in
+one of these sudden squalls that his father, Old Angus, had perished.
+Although the days were chilly and the nights still colder, Mr. Clark and
+Donald kept resolutely with the flock; but when they reached the
+lowlands and the Scotch herder directed his band of sheep toward the
+bronzed fields of sage-brush and dried hay lying along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"> [157]</a></span> river valley
+Donald and his father bade good-bye to Bernardo and Sandy and returned
+to the shelter of the home ranch.</p>
+
+<p>Thornton welcomed them.</p>
+
+<p>There was something new in his manner&mdash;a strange, unaccustomed dignity
+which lent to the man a charm he had never before possessed.</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton did not shuffle toward us and look down as he usually does,"
+observed Donald to his father when they were alone. "He is different,
+somehow. What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am not sure, son, but I cannot help feeling that Thornton has come to
+his best self. The best is in all of us. It is not, however, always
+uppermost. Perhaps it is going to triumph in Thornton."</p>
+
+<p>There unquestionably was a change in the big rough man.</p>
+
+<p>That evening he got out the books and went over all the accounts with
+Mr. Clark, telling him just what supplies he had ordered; what they had
+cost; and how much he had paid out in wages. In dealing with financial
+matters Mr. Clark was on his native heath. He studied the columns of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158"> [158]</a></span>
+figures critically. The accounts were correct to a cent, and he could
+readily see that every reasonable economy had been practiced in the
+management of the ranch.</p>
+
+<p>"You have done well, Thornton," he said after he had finished looking
+over the bills and papers. "I am greatly obliged to you for your
+faithful work."</p>
+
+<p>Donald saw a flush of pleasure rise to the man's cheek.</p>
+
+<p>"My work has not always been faithful, Mr. Clark," Thornton declared
+with sudden determination. "I want to tell you, sir, that I was not
+setting out to be faithful to you at all. I wanted to get Johnson's
+place, and then I meant to run Crescent Ranch to please myself. I am
+going to confess the whole thing; I want to confess it because your
+confidence in me has made me ashamed of myself. You must have known
+somehow that I was not running things as they ought to be run, else you
+would never have come out here. Sandy knew it&mdash;so did all the old
+herders. Yet, save about the permits, you never have spoken a word<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"> [159]</a></span> of
+reproof, but have gone on trusting me. When you looked me so kindly in
+the eye and went away leaving me in care of the whole home ranch I
+somehow felt that you expected me to do the square thing."</p>
+
+<p>His voice faltered.</p>
+
+<p>Donald, who had been an uncomfortable listener, now rose and tried to
+steal out of the room unnoticed, but Thornton called him back.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not go, lad. You may be owning Crescent Ranch some day, and I want
+you to hear what I have to say. There is not much more to tell. After
+you and your father had gone to the range with Sandy I sat down and
+thought it all over. Here I was, alone! There was no getting away from
+myself. I reviewed all the plans I had made&mdash;how I was going to stock
+some of my friends at Glen City with provisions and charge it up to
+Clark &amp; Sons; how I was going to pad the accounts and keep the money&mdash;I
+went over the whole thing, and I felt mean as a cur. It came to me that
+it was a pretty poor game. Then another plan came into my mind. You were
+giving me a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"> [160]</a></span> chance to be decent&mdash;why didn't I take it? I did. I have
+been absolutely honest about running the ranch while you have been gone,
+Mr. Clark. I can look you and Donald in the eye just as Sandy, Jos&eacute;,
+Bernardo, and the other men do who have been working for your interest
+all these years."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark put out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you told me this, Thornton," he said quietly, "and I believe
+you. See, here is a sheet of paper; it is scrawled over with letters and
+figures of every sort. Turn it over."</p>
+
+<p>Wonderingly the man obeyed. Nothing was written on the other side. It
+was a blank page.</p>
+
+<p>"You see there is nothing on that side," went on Donald's father. "We
+can there write what we will. Turn your own page the same way. Let us
+forget the past. Now for the future! Will you take the position as
+manager of Crescent Ranch?"</p>
+
+<p>Thornton was aghast.</p>
+
+<p>"I, sir! I? After all that has happened?" he contrived to stammer.</p>
+
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't do it, Mr. Clark. Not one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161"> [161]</a></span> men would believe in me.
+No, I am going to leave this place after the shearing is over, and go
+somewhere where no one knows me; there I can make a fresh start. And
+anyway, even if all this had not happened, I am not the man to be
+manager here. I have neither the confidence of the herders, nor the
+necessary knowledge about the flocks. But there is a man on Crescent
+Ranch who knows everything there is to know about sheep-raising&mdash;a man
+honest as the day, and who loves the place as if it was his own&mdash;Sandy
+McCulloch, sir. He is the only man for the position&mdash;there never has
+been any one else. Put him in as manager and you will never regret it."</p>
+
+<p>Donald sprang up.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, father, do put Sandy in," he cried. "I never thought of Sandy as
+manager&mdash;he seems so young!"</p>
+
+<p>"I have thought of him all along," Thornton continued. "That is why I
+was so ready with a word against him every chance I got. I have been
+afraid of him&mdash;afraid of his honesty and his goodness. It was not that
+he would tell tales about me;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162"> [162]</a></span> Sandy is too big-natured a man to do
+that. He would scorn to use a mean weapon. No, it was just because he
+was what he was that I feared him."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark was silent.</p>
+
+<p>"You owe it to Old Angus, Sandy's father, to give the lad the place,
+sir," pleaded Thornton.</p>
+
+<p>"And if I did what is to become of you, Thornton?" asked the owner
+slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know. It does not matter. I will stay here until after the
+shearing, for it is a busy time and I might be of help. Then I can go
+and look up something else."</p>
+
+<p>Donald watched his father as he bent forward and stirred the fire. The
+well-known little wrinkle had come in his forehead and the boy knew that
+his mind was busy.</p>
+
+<p>"Thornton," said Mr. Clark at last, "have you relatives here in the
+West?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you alone in the world?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Would you like to go East with Donald and me when we return to Boston
+after the shearing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163"> [163]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thornton regarded him blankly.</p>
+
+<p>"I need another man in my office," explained the wool-broker. "You have
+proved yourself a good accountant. Furthermore it would be greatly to
+our advantage to have a reliable helper who is familiar with ranch
+affairs and knows Sandy, the new manager. Then if I wanted some one, as
+I often have in the past, to make the trip out here and attend to
+business for me, you could do it."</p>
+
+<p>Thornton got up and walked to the window. They could not see his face.
+He stood with his back toward them, looking out into the darkness.</p>
+
+<p>Then suddenly he wheeled and came to Mr. Clark's side.</p>
+
+<p>"You took me by surprise, sir," he said unsteadily. "I cannot thank you.
+I know well it is another chance you are giving me. I will take it and
+go East, and there I will prove to you that in the future you can trust
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"You have proved that already, Thornton," replied Donald's father, as he
+smiled up into the face of the ranchman and gripped his coarse brown
+hand.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164"> [164]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>After Thornton had left the room Donald and his father were silent.</p>
+
+<p>At last the boy said:</p>
+
+<p>"You were right about Thornton, father. He was honest with you, just as
+you predicted he would be."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe if you expect the best of a man you will usually get it,"
+replied Mr. Clark. "There is something big and honest in each of us
+which springs to meet the big and honest in somebody else. Appeal to
+that best side of people and it will respond. I have seldom known the
+rule to fail. Now just one thing more. Do not forget that this man has
+given us his confidence. It is a thing we must hold sacred. Never repeat
+what you have heard. And above all remember that Thornton deserves both
+admiration and respect, for it is only great natures that admit they
+have done wrong."</p>
+
+<p>Donald nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"I like Thornton better than I did before father," he said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, son!"</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"> [165]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI<br />
+
+THE SHEARING</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/tsheep.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+There was great rejoicing among the herders when, in the latter part of
+April, they drove their flocks to Glen City for the shearing, and heard
+that Sandy McCulloch had been made manager of Crescent Ranch.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark and Donald gave out the facts with greatest care&mdash;how Thornton
+was to become Clark &amp; Son's confidential man at the Boston office; and
+how Sandy was to take the vast sheep-raising portion of the business
+under his direction.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a proud day for you, Sandy!" cried Jos&eacute;.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm no pretending I ain't pleased," replied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166"> [166]</a></span> Sandy, beaming on the
+Mexican, "but dinna think I'm proud. If I do my work well pride may
+come; still, it's no time for it now."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you'll do it well&mdash;how could you help it! It is in your
+blood," Jos&eacute; declared. "You have your father's own knack about the
+flocks. It is the real love for herding&mdash;a kind of part of you, it
+seems."</p>
+
+<p>"I get it from generations of shepherds who have tended the black-faced
+sheep among the broom and the heather on the hills of Scotland, I doubt
+not," answered Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it stands you in good stead, however you come by it," Jos&eacute; called
+over his shoulder as he moved off toward the pen where his sheep were.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope it may stand me in good stead in the future, Don," Sandy said
+gravely to the boy beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure it will. Isn't it splendid, Sandy, to see the herders all so
+pleased and ready to follow out your orders? I think nothing could have
+made me happier than to have you put in to manage the ranch."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"> [167]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm verra, verra glad myself, laddie. It is a thing I never dared hope
+for, and I would not have wanted to take the job from Thornton. But
+since he is going East and is to be well provided for it makes
+everything right."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet you telegraphed my father to come here, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time the telegram had ever been mentioned between them.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy hesitated.</p>
+
+<p>"I felt your father should come out here and cast his eye over the place
+and, loving the ranch so well, I took it on myself to send for him. But
+I told no tales. It was his task to find the flaws if there were any. I
+am no certain what he found and I dinna want to hear. I simply know the
+snarls have straightened themselves out, and that Crescent Ranch is now
+going on better than it has in years. The men have all been glad for a
+glimpse of your father. It is no so much fun working for somebody you
+have never seen. It has been a great thing to have him come. And as for
+the herds&mdash;was there ever a finer sight?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"> [168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He swept his hand around dramatically.</p>
+
+<p>On every side, in numbered pens, sheep were waiting to be sheared.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time Donald had seen the stock all together and it was
+indeed, as Sandy had declared, a fine sight.</p>
+
+<p>The herders were not a little proud of the thickness of the fleeces of
+their respective flocks and much good-natured banter passed between
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it on corn-husks you have been feeding your ewes that they look so
+sickly?" called one Mexican to another.</p>
+
+<p>The swarthy herdsman grinned.</p>
+
+<p>"Mind your own band, Manuel Torquello! You haven't a fleece in your fold
+that will tip the scales at ten pounds."</p>
+
+<p>Both men laughed and passed on.</p>
+
+<p>"How much ought fleeces to weigh, Sandy?" asked Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"From six to ten pounds&mdash;as the clip runs. Some are heavier, some
+lighter. It depends on the quality of the wool, and the amount of oil in
+it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169"> [169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why the shearing is not done at the ranch instead of
+driving all the sheep down here to Glen City," panted Donald as he tried
+to keep up with Sandy's strides.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you see, lad, it is much more convenient to have the wool clipped
+near the railroad. In that way we do away with carting it. The fleeces
+can be sheared, packed, weighed, and put right on the cars. Beside that,
+we get the power to run our plant from Glen City. Our shearing is done
+by electricity and not by hand, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"It is mean of me to make you answer questions, Sandy, when you are in
+such a hurry," Donald ventured hesitatingly, "but I wish you had time to
+explain to me about the shearing."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy was in a hurry&mdash;there was no denying that!</p>
+
+<p>He and Donald had driven down from Crescent that morning, and were to
+meet Thornton and Mr. Clark as soon as possible at the shed where the
+shearing was to be done. Nevertheless, in spite of his haste, Sandy
+tried as he went along to answer Donald's question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170"> [170]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There was a time long ago when all shearing was done by hand. In the
+spring bands of traveling shearers came from ranch to ranch and sheared
+the flocks for so much a day. Sometimes these men were Mexicans,
+sometimes Indians. As they made a business of shearing and nothing else
+they became verra skilful with the shears and could turn off many
+fleeces a day. It is an art to shear a sheep. Many a try must you have
+before you can do it. The smaller ranches still shear by hand, for it
+does not pay to run a power plant unless you have large flocks."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose a power plant does the work quicker," suggested Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I think good shearers can clip the fleeces almost as fast. The
+chief advantage in machinery is that it takes the wool off closer, and
+you do not need such skilled men to do the work. You just have to
+remember not to shear flocks this way in summer, for the wool would be
+cut so close that your sheep would be wild with flies and sunburn before
+their coats grew long enough to protect them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171"> [171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>They had now reached the plant, where they were to meet Donald's father
+and Thornton; they mounted the steps of the low building and went in.
+Immediately they were greeted by the whirr of wheels, the chatter of
+many herders, and the blatting of sheep.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark came forward.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Don," he said, "this is quite a sight, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say it was! I had no idea shearing was done this way. It is
+just the way they clip horses or cut my hair."</p>
+
+<p>His father smiled.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is done on the same principle. Let us watch this man here. He
+is just starting. I thought he would tie the feet of the sheep first,
+but he does not seem to be doing it; instead he is turning it up on its
+rump, and holding it with his left arm so its hoofs cannot touch the
+floor. They say sheep never kick or struggle if their feet are raised
+from the ground. Now he is starting with the shears. See! He is opening
+the wool by a cut down the right shoulder. How neatly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172"> [172]</a></span> the fleece comes
+off&mdash;almost in one piece, as if it was a jacket!"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess that was a smooth-skinned sheep," laughed Donald, "or the
+shearer never could have done it so quickly."</p>
+
+<p>The man who was shearing overheard him.</p>
+
+<p>"It was a smooth-skinned one," he called. "Still, even the wrinkly
+Merinos loose their coats pretty fast. Watch and see. I have one right
+here."</p>
+
+<p>Donald watched.</p>
+
+<p>It was fascinating.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to try it," he said glancing up at his father.</p>
+
+<p>"I guess you'd have trouble!"</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't mind the trouble if I wasn't afraid of cutting the sheep,"
+replied the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose you leave it until you come West the next time," called Sandy,
+who chanced to be passing and heard his words. "You mustn't do
+everything this trip, or you'll have nothing to look forward to when you
+come again."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it's as well for the sheep!" grunted the Mexican who was
+shearing.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"> [173]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/i172.png" width="400" height="592"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">"I'D LIKE TO TRY IT"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174"> [174]</a></span>"I shouldn't wonder!" answered Donald good-naturedly.</p>
+
+<p>But what a charm there was in that crisp snip of the shears!</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, Donald and his father moved on to where crews of men
+were busy at smooth board tables.</p>
+
+<p>"What are they doing here?" Donald asked.</p>
+
+<p>"They are tying fleeces," explained Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"But don't they wash that dirty wool before they tie it up?" questioned
+the boy, astounded.</p>
+
+<p>Sandy, who had joined them for the moment, laughed at Donald's disgust.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd have us washing and ironing it, perhaps," he chuckled. "No, no!
+We used to wash all fleeces before they were clipped, 'tis true. But
+your father says that now buyers care little for them washed. Folks will
+pay about as much for good wool unwashed as washed. It is a lucky thing
+for us, because it saves us much trouble; more than that, it is better
+for the sheep not to be put through the water. The thick fleece stays
+damp for many days, and unless the creature is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175"> [175]</a></span> range-bred and therefore
+used to all weather it suffers a shock, and is liable to be sick. You
+can't shear a flock until about two weeks after washing, for not only
+must the fleece dry, but new yolk must form in the wool. If the wool is
+too dry the shears will not slip through it."</p>
+
+<p>"But by the end of two weeks I should think the sheep would have his
+fleece all dirty again," objected Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"That is just the point&mdash;he does."</p>
+
+<p>"Why couldn't you wash the fleece after it is taken off?"</p>
+
+<p>"We could. It is done sometimes. Your father can tell you that he sends
+off wool and has it scoured before selling it if a buyer wishes it
+done."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark nodded.</p>
+
+<p>"But here," continued Sandy, "we wash no fleeces. We do take care,
+though, not to tie very dirty pieces in with the fleece. My father
+always insisted on the tying being honest. Only wool went into the
+bundle. You and your father must watch and see how quickly they do the
+tying."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"> [176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As Sandy flitted away again Mr. Clark and Donald made their way to the
+long table where the boys who went about among the shearers and
+collected the fleeces were tossing them down.</p>
+
+<p>Each fleece was spread out on the table, the belly and loose ends folded
+deftly inside; then the whole was fastened into a square bundle.</p>
+
+<p>"It would seem as if any twine would do to tie a package like that,
+wouldn't it, Don?" said Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"It is not so," went on his father. "There is nothing about which a
+wool-grower has to be more careful than about the twine with which he
+ties his fleeces. You must always avoid using a fiber twine&mdash;by that I
+mean hemp, or any variety having fibers which will break off in the
+wool. These fibers or particles get stuck in the fleeces, and later when
+the wool reaches the mill, the mill people do not like it. Either the
+bits of hemp have to be picked out&mdash;an endless job&mdash;or the wool is sent
+back. You can see that they could not dye wool with all these little
+particles in it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177"> [177]</a></span> The hemp would take a different color from the rest of
+the wool, and would result in specked goods."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of twine do we use, father?" asked Donald, much interested.</p>
+
+<p>"We use a paper twine. Other growers often tie their fleeces with glazed
+twine."</p>
+
+<p>"I never should have thought twine could make so much trouble," mused
+the lad.</p>
+
+<p>"You would think of it, though, if you had once been set to picking
+fiber out of wool as I was when I was a boy!" interrupted Sandy, as he
+darted past.</p>
+
+<p>Donald and his father followed at the heels of the young Scotchman as he
+went through into another shed where the wool was being packed. Here lay
+great piles of tied fleeces and heaps of loose wool. About the shed
+stood wooden frames from the center of which swung burlap sacks used for
+packing the clip.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do the men first stuff the two lower corners of the bags with wool
+and tie them?" the boy asked after he had looked on a few moments.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178"> [178]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"We call those corners ears," replied his father. "Sacks of wool are not
+only awkward to handle but very heavy, and it is a help to have the
+corners, firmly tied, to take hold of."</p>
+
+<p>Donald nodded. He was too busy looking about him to reply.</p>
+
+<p>The men packing the wool took one of the burlap bags, fitted its mouth
+over a wooden hoop just the right size, and fastened the bag inside the
+frame in such a way that it hung its full length and just cleared the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>Then the packer began tossing wool into the sack.</p>
+
+<p>When it was about half-full he jumped into it and tramped the fleeces
+down solidly.</p>
+
+<p>Afterward he climbed out and another man wheeled a truck under the
+frame; then the packer freed the sack, and when it dropped it was
+promptly sewed up and wheeled to the scales, where it was weighed. Its
+weight was entered in a book by a man who kept the tally and the same
+figures were also roughly painted on the bag.</p>
+
+<p>"And there's the end of it!" exclaimed Sandy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"> [179]</a></span> who came up and stood
+beside Donald as Mr. Clark walked away. "Now you know the wool business,
+Don!"</p>
+
+<p>Donald shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"It will take me longer than this to know the wool business," he
+answered. "I mean when we get home, though, to get father to tell me the
+rest of it&mdash;about the selling and manufacturing."</p>
+
+<p>"That part would be new to me too," said Sandy. "Here we have no
+selling; we do not even auction off our own wool, as you see, for our
+clip goes direct to our owners. But when a ranch sells its wool to other
+buyers the manager has lively days, I can tell you. Both Anchor and Star
+Ranch sell to brokers. They send out word that they have wool for sale
+and the Eastern buyers swarm here like flies. They bid on the wool&mdash;bid
+right against each other, even though sometimes they are the best of
+friends. The men get an idea of the price they want to pay by looking
+over the fleeces and seeing how they will grade up. Above everything
+else a wool buyer must have a trained eye, quick to detect the quality
+of the shipment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"> [180]</a></span> offered for sale. That is what decides him on how high
+he will bid. After the buyers have got up to what they consider a
+reasonable price they stop bidding. The wool-grower must then accept the
+highest bid."</p>
+
+<p>"But he may not be satisfied with the price," put in Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"It makes no difference. They are supposed to make a fair bid on the
+clip."</p>
+
+<p>"What if he shouldn't take it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, then all the brokers who have bid on the wool leave town pledging
+each other not to bid on that particular shipment of wool for two
+weeks," replied Sandy.</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" inquired Donald, opening his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It is to protect the brokers. You can see the justice in it when you
+think a moment. These Easterners are busy men and they come a long way.
+They can't take a trip to some far-off ranch only to find the
+wool-grower has decided not to sell his fleeces; or that he will not
+sell them below a certain price. If a man really does not want to sell
+he must not get the buyers there; if he does<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181"> [181]</a></span> he must be content with
+what they offer. Your father would have to buy his wool this way if he
+did not own Crescent Ranch; and even so he may send men to buy wool at
+outside ranches too, for all I know."</p>
+
+<p>"I am going to ask him," Donald said.</p>
+
+<p>"Do not ask him now. He might not want to talk his business over here.
+Wait until you get back East."</p>
+
+<p>"I hate to think of going back home, Sandy," the boy declared, regret in
+his tones.</p>
+
+<p>"All good things must come to an end, lad. You will go back, finish your
+schooling, go to college as your father wishes, and then, a gentleman
+grown, you will be choosing some work."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy studied Donald keenly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I suppose that is just what I shall do. I am thinking some of
+studying law, Sandy."</p>
+
+<p>The Scotchman's face fell, but Donald did not notice it.</p>
+
+<p>"I've always thought I should like to stand up in court and make a great
+plea&mdash;a speech that would sweep people off their feet," went on Donald.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182"> [182]</a></span>
+"Or," he added reflectively, "I may be a judge."</p>
+
+<p>Sandy scratched his head.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a good bit step between studying law and being a judge," said
+he.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps after all I may decide not to be a judge," ruminated Donald. "I
+have always wanted to manage a baseball team and I may think I would
+rather do that."</p>
+
+<p>"Go on with you!" Sandy cried. "Next you'll be having yourself a
+lighthouse-keeper." Then he added wistfully: "But no matter what you
+are, laddie, dinna forget Crescent Ranch."</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183"> [183]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII<br />
+
+HOME TO THE EAST</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/wdog.png" width="150" height="167"
+     alt="" />
+Within two weeks Thornton, Mr. Clark, and Donald were back in
+Massachusetts, and the thread of Eastern life was once more taken up.</p>
+
+<p>Donald did not return to school, since it was now so near June that to
+enter the class seemed useless; instead it was decided that he should
+have a tutor through the summer to help him make up the work he had
+lost, and thereby enable him to go on with his class in the fall. This
+tutor, however, had to be found, and until he was the boy was free from
+duties of every sort. It gave him a strange sense of loneliness to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"> [184]</a></span> be
+with nothing to do. All his friends were in school&mdash;there was no one to
+play with.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I'll go in to the office with you, father," he suggested one
+morning. "It is stupid staying round in Cambridge when all the fellows
+are slaving for their exams. I have been so busy while out on the ranch
+that now I do not know what to do with myself."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark agreed to the proposal cordially.</p>
+
+<p>In consequence it came about that Donald joined Thornton at the large
+Boston warehouse. The store was not new to the boy, for he had often
+been there with his father; but to Thornton this part of the wool
+business was as novel as the first glimpses of ranching had been to
+Donald. The high building of yellow brick with floor after floor of
+hurrying men, the offices noisy with the hum of typewriters, the ring of
+telephones, the comings and goings of messenger-boys and
+mail-carriers&mdash;all this little universe of rush and confusion was an
+untried world to Thornton. Its strangeness dazed him.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark promptly placed him in the accounting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"> [185]</a></span> department, but to his
+surprise Thornton foundered there helplessly. It was one thing to keep
+books amid the quiet and leisure of Crescent Ranch, and quite another to
+struggle with columns of figures in the riot of modern business
+surroundings. At the end of three days the Westerner looked gray and
+tired, and had accomplished nothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I am going to do with him, Don," announced Mr. Clark,
+much troubled. "I have brought him here from Idaho, and of course I am
+bound to look out for him; yet there does not seem to be an earthly
+thing he can do. My plan was to set him to keeping books in Cook's
+place, and send Cook out to Crescent Ranch to help Sandy. Sandy, you
+know, cannot handle accounts. Poor lad&mdash;he had little opportunity for
+schooling in his youth, and the financial side of his work is his one
+weak spot. He realizes this himself, and it was only on the condition
+that I send him an assistant that he would undertake the management of
+the ranch at all. I expected, as I say, that Cook would go; evidently,
+however, Thornton is not going to be able to fill his place. What shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"> [186]</a></span>
+I do with Thornton, Don? We must find a niche for him somehow."</p>
+
+<p>Donald reflected a moment.</p>
+
+<p>"Had you thought, father, of trying him up-stairs?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, I hadn't. We need a foreman up there, but I had not considered
+Thornton for the position. That is a happy inspiration, son. We will
+give him a try. He may make good yet."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly Thornton was sent to the upper floors of the warehouse,
+where the wool was stored. Here were great piles of loose wool reaching
+from floor to ceiling. Some piles contained only the finest wool; other
+piles that which was next-best in quality; still other piles were made
+up of the coarser varieties. There were piles of scoured wool, piles of
+South American and Australian wool&mdash;wool, wool, wool everywhere!</p>
+
+<p>With keen interest Thornton looked about him. He wandered from one vast
+pyramid of fleeces to another, catching up handfuls of the different
+varieties and examining them. Then he walked to where the men were busy
+opening the first spring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187"> [187]</a></span> shipments of wool from Crescent Ranch. The
+wool was emptied from the sacks onto the floor in great heaps, and crews
+of men&mdash;skilled in judging the fiber&mdash;set to work to sort it, separating
+the different qualities into piles. Donald, who was looking on, saw a
+smile pass over Thornton's face&mdash;the first smile that had brightened it
+in days. Then, almost instinctively, the ranchman rolled up his sleeves
+and began to grade wool with the other men. He worked rapidly, for he
+was thoroughly familiar with what he was doing.</p>
+
+<p>The next day when Donald went up-stairs he found Thornton directing a
+lot of green hands who were packing the sorted, or graded wool, in bags.
+Later in the week it chanced that the man who weighed the wool fell ill
+and the Westerner took his place at the scales, seeing that the sacks of
+wool were correctly weighed and recorded, that they were sewed up
+strongly, and marked for shipping.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually the men, recognizing Thornton's ability, began to defer to his
+judgment. The month was not out before Clark &amp; Sons began to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188"> [188]</a></span> wonder
+what they had done before Thornton came. So familiar did he make himself
+with the stock that even Mr. Clark sent for and consulted him about
+orders and shipments.</p>
+
+<p>"He is proving himself a thoroughly useful man, Don," declared Mr. Clark
+rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "His knowledge of the ranch and of
+the wool itself is invaluable. It is just a case of putting the peg into
+the proper hole. Thornton was like a fish out of water here in the
+office. Now he is in his element. I shall make him foreman of the
+shipping department&mdash;a position just suited to him, and which he will
+fill well."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad he has made good, father," said Donald. "Now, what are you
+going to do about an assistant for Sandy? That is the next question to
+settle, I suppose. Have you found any one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not yet. I have had a great deal to do, Don. I shall, however, look up
+some one as soon as possible. In the meantime, before you start in with
+your tutor, and Thornton gets so rushed that he cannot be spared, I want
+to take you both to Mortonstown to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189"> [189]</a></span> visit the Monitor Mills. Thornton
+has never seen the manufacture of woolen goods and will be the more
+intelligent for doing so; as for you, I am anxious to have you complete
+the story of wool-growing which you began at Crescent Ranch. To stop
+short of visiting a mill now would be like reading the opening chapters
+of a book and never finishing the volume."</p>
+
+<p>"I do want to know the rest of the story very much, father," Donald
+replied. "I told Sandy when I was out West that I hoped you would some
+time take me to a mill. Since we got home, though, you have been so busy
+that I did not like to ask you."</p>
+
+<p>"That was thoughtful of you, son. Ordinarily I should have preferred to
+wait; it chances, however, that something has come up which obliges me
+to see the Monitor people right away. So I shall go out there to-morrow,
+taking Thornton with me, and if you like you may go also."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'd like!" exclaimed Donald eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>The next day proved to be so gloriously clear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"> [190]</a></span> that instead of making
+the trip to Mortonstown by train Mr. Clark decided to run out in his
+touring-car. It was not a long ride&mdash;something over twenty-five
+miles&mdash;but to Thornton, unaccustomed to the luxury of a modern
+automobile, the journey was one of unalloyed delight.</p>
+
+<p>"It is like riding in a sitting-room on wheels, isn't it?" he murmured
+with a sigh of satisfaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Some day you will be having a car of your own, Thornton," Mr. Clark
+said, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"And riding to Idaho in it," put in Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it is about the smoothest way I ever traveled!" declared the
+ranchman. "When we came East I thought that sleeping-car close to a
+moving palace; but this thing has the train beaten to a frazzle. You see
+I am used to jolting over rough roads in springless wagons, and it is
+something new to me to go along as if I was sliding down-hill on a
+velvet sofa-cushion."</p>
+
+<p>Donald and his father heartily enjoyed the big fellow's pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>As for Thornton, when the car came to a stop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191"> [191]</a></span> before the puffing
+Mortonstown mills it was with regret that he dragged himself from the
+seat. Still, he had the ride home in anticipation&mdash;that was a comforting
+thought.</p>
+
+<p>Once within the mills, however, even the memory of the homeward journey
+faded from his mind. The vast buildings throbbing with the beat of
+engines, the click and whirr of bobbins, and the clash of machinery,
+blotted out everything else.</p>
+
+<p>When they entered Mr. Munger, the manager, who was expecting them, came
+forward cordially.</p>
+
+<p>"We were glad to hear by telephone that you were coming out to-day, Mr.
+Clark," he said. "Mr. Bailey, the president, is waiting to see you in
+his private office."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," answered Mr. Clark. "Now while I am talking with him I
+should greatly appreciate it if my son Donald, and my foreman, Mr.
+Thornton, might go over the works. They have never visited a woolen
+mill."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall be delighted to show them about," answered Mr. Munger. "I will
+send some one with them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192"> [192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Turning, the manager beckoned to a young man who was busy at a desk.</p>
+
+<p>"This gentleman," continued he, "has been with us many years and will be
+able to answer all your questions. Take these visitors through the
+factory, Mac, show them everything, and bring them back here. Now if you
+are ready, Mr. Clark, we will join Mr. Bailey."</p>
+
+<p>Donald and Thornton moved away, following their guide into a building
+just across the yard. Here wool was being sorted by staplers who were
+expert in judging its quality. They worked at frames covered with wire
+netting which allowed the dirt to sift through, and as they handled the
+material and tossed it into the proper piles they picked out straws,
+burrs, and other waste caught in it.</p>
+
+<p>"This sorting must be carefully done," explained the bookkeeper who was
+showing them about, "or the wool will not take the dye well. Much
+depends on having the fleeces clear of waste. We also are very
+particular about the sorting. The finest wool, as you know, comes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"> [193]</a></span> from
+the sides of the sheep; that clipped from the head and legs is coarse
+and stiff. All this we separate before we send the fleeces on to be
+scoured. In this next room you will see how the material is washed."</p>
+
+<p>They passed on and next saw how steam was blown through the wool, not
+only removing the dirt but softening the fibers. The fleeces were also
+washed in many great bowls of soap and water.</p>
+
+<p>"Here again we must exercise great care that the water is clean and the
+soap pure, or the wool will not dye perfectly. We use a kind of potash
+soap which we are sure is of the best make. Another thing which renders
+the scouring of wool difficult is that we must not curl or snarl it
+while we are washing it."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see how you can help it," Donald said.</p>
+
+<p>"We can if we take proper care," returned the bookkeeper.</p>
+
+<p>"And what is this other machine for?" inquired Thornton, pointing to one
+at the end of the room.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter pad">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"> [194]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/i193.png" width="400" height="585"
+       alt="" />
+<p class="caption">"WHAT IS THIS OTHER MACHINE?"</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>"That machine is picking the wool apart so that the air can get through
+it and help it to dry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195"> [195]</a></span> After it is picked up light and fluffy we pass
+it through these heavy rollers, which are like wringers and which
+squeeze out the remaining moisture. Yet during all these processes we
+must always be careful not to snarl the wool. See, here is where it
+comes out white and clean, ready to go to the dyeing room."</p>
+
+<p>Donald regarded the snowy fleeces with wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"You would never dream it could be the same wool!" he said. "Isn't it
+beautiful? It is not much the way it looks when it leaves the ranch, is
+it, Thornton?"</p>
+
+<p>"I should say not," agreed the Westerner emphatically. "The sheep ought
+to see how handsome their coats are."</p>
+
+<p>"So they should!" answered the young bookkeeper. "You have been on a
+ranch then?"</p>
+
+<p>"We have just come from one," Donald answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you, indeed! It is a free life&mdash;not much like being shut up inside
+brick walls."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been West yourself, perhaps," ventured Thornton.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196"> [196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, years ago&mdash;when I was a boy; but not recently."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you should see the sheep country now!" Thornton went on. "It is
+much improved, I reckon, since you were there."</p>
+
+<p>"I imagine so," the young guide answered with a wistful smile. "It is so
+long since I have had a breath of real air that I have almost forgotten
+how it would seem."</p>
+
+<p>"If you are wanting fresh air go out on the ranges and fill your lungs.
+You will find plenty there," declared the ranchman.</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what they are trying to make me do," the young man
+replied, "I have not been very well this year and Mr. Munger thinks the
+confinement in the mill is telling on me. He wants me to go West for a
+vacation."</p>
+
+<p>"And should you like to?" questioned Donald.</p>
+
+<p>The man did not answer; instead he said:</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose we go on. We must not waste too much time here. In this next
+room you will see how the dyeing is done. We use centrifugal machines,
+and beside those we have these others to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197"> [197]</a></span> keep the wool spread and
+turned. With all our care not to snarl or curl it, it will get matted
+and must therefore be picked apart again. So we pass it through these
+revolving drums which, you see, have sets of spikes on them; as the
+spikes on the different drums turn they catch in the wool and pick it
+all apart so it is again light and fluffy as it was before."</p>
+
+<p>"Doesn't so much washing and dyeing take out all the yolk, and make the
+wool very dry?" inquired Thornton.</p>
+
+<p>The young man conducting them seemed pleased at the question.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it does! That is just the trouble. Therefore we are forced to set
+about getting some oil back into it; otherwise it would be so harsh and
+stiff that we could do nothing with it. So we put the thin layers of
+wool into these machines and carry them along to a spraying apparatus
+which sprays them evenly with oil. We use olive oil, but some other
+manufacturers prefer lard oil or oleine."</p>
+
+<p>"How funny to have to put oil back into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"> [198]</a></span> wool after you have just
+washed it out!" Donald remarked.</p>
+
+<p>"It is funny, isn't it?" nodded the bookkeeper. "Now on this side of the
+room they are blending the fleeces. Sometimes we blend different
+qualities of wool to get a desired effect, or sometimes we blend the
+wool with cotton or a different fiber. We take a thin layer of wool,
+then put another layer of a different kind over it. We then pick it all
+up together until we get a uniform mixture."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a surprise to me that the wool has to go through so much red tape
+before it comes to spinning," Thornton said.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a long process," responded their guide. "I remember when I first
+saw it, it seemed endless. Now I think little of it."</p>
+
+<p>"We get used to everything in time, I suppose," Thornton answered; then
+he added whimsically: "Still, I don't think I should ever get used to
+riding in an automobile."</p>
+
+<p>A hearty laugh came from behind them, and turning they saw Mr. Clark and
+Mr. Munger, the manager.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"> [199]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I came to hunt you up," said Mr. Clark. "I have finished my interview
+with Mr. Bailey, and it seemed to me that by this time you must have
+finished spinning your next-winter's overcoat, Don."</p>
+
+<p>"But I haven't, father," retorted Donald, smiling into his father's
+face. "I have not even begun to make the cloth at all."</p>
+
+<p>"The yarn is not spun yet, sir," put in the young man who was with them.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a slow guide, Mac, I fear," Mr. Munger laughed, laying a kindly
+hand on his bookkeeper's shoulder. "That is the chief fault with you
+Scotchmen&mdash;you are too thorough. Now let us hurry along. These gentlemen
+must get back to Boston to-day, you know."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Munger bustled ahead, conducting his visitors across a bridge and
+into the next mill.</p>
+
+<p>Here was the carding room. Layers of wool entered the carding engine and
+were combed by a multitude of wire teeth until all the fibers lay
+parallel; the thin film of wool then passed into a cone-like opening and
+came out later in a thick strand of untwisted fibers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200"> [200]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is now ready to go to the drawing-frames," Mr. Munger explained.
+"You will notice how these drawing-frames pull the wool into shape for
+twisting and spinning, drawing it out to uniform size and finally
+winding it on bobbins. The machine is a complicated one to explain, but
+you can watch and see what it does."</p>
+
+<p>"How wonderful it is that machinery can do all this work," Mr. Clark
+observed thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is," Mr. Munger agreed. "Years ago every part of the process
+was done by hand. Little by little, however, machines have been
+perfected until now we have contrivances that seem almost human. Shall
+we go now and see the yarn spun?"</p>
+
+<p>When they reached the spinning room with its clatter of shifting bobbins
+Mr. Munger turned to Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder if you know," he said, "that wool is worked into two different
+kinds of yarn&mdash;worsted yarn and woolen yarn. The fibers for worsted yarn
+are long and lie nearly parallel, and when woven result in a smooth
+surface. Broadcloth is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201"> [201]</a></span> made from worsted yarn. Woolen yarn, on the
+other hand, has its fibers lying in every direction and all these loose
+ends, when woven, give a rough surface. Of course after the cloth is
+milled it comes out smooth, but it is not as smooth and fine as a
+worsted cloth."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I understand," Donald said. "Are we to see the cloth woven
+next?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You know we weave nothing but woolens; you must go to a worsted
+mill to see the other kinds of cloth made. The processes, though, are
+much alike."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Munger then hurried the party to the weaving mills, where amid an
+uproar of thousands of moving wheels, bobbins, and shuttles the threads
+of yarn traveled back and forth, back and forth, and came out of the
+looms as cloth. The cloth was then steamed, pressed, and rolled or
+folded.</p>
+
+<p>"And now, young man," announced Mr. Munger to Donald jestingly, "you
+have seen the whole process, and there is no reason why your father
+should not give you some wool and let you make your own cloth for your
+next suit of clothes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"> [202]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Although Donald was very tired he tried to smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I think," he said, "that I would rather grow the wool on the ranch than
+make it into cloth here. It is far nicer out on the ranges."</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I am trying to tell my young assistant," agreed Mr.
+Munger. "He is getting fagged, aren't you, Mac? You see he was brought
+up in the open country, and much as we think of him, we feel that he
+should go back to the Western mountains."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I am all right, Mr. Munger," the bookkeeper hastened to say. "Just
+a bit tired, perhaps&mdash;that is all."</p>
+
+<p>"If you are tired you should try the ranges of Idaho," Mr. Clark said.
+"My boy, here, and myself have recently returned from a year in the
+sheep country and feel like new men, don't we, Don? Undoubtedly the life
+there may not be as gay as in the city; still&mdash;to quote my manager,
+Sandy McCulloch, 'with bears, bob-cats, and coyotes, I dinna see how it
+could ever be dull.'"</p>
+
+<p>So perfectly had Mr. Clark imitated Sandy's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203"> [203]</a></span> voice and accent that
+Thornton and Donald both laughed. Then they stopped suddenly.</p>
+
+<p>The young bookkeeper had turned very pale and was eying them with a
+startled face.</p>
+
+<p>"Sandy McCulloch!" he repeated. "Did you say Sandy McCulloch, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Sandy McCulloch," answered Mr. Clark. "Do you know him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He must be of your kin, Mac!" interrupted Mr. Munger. "This lad,
+strangely enough, is a McCulloch himself&mdash;Douglas McCulloch."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you must be&mdash;you are Sandy's brother!" cried Donald.</p>
+
+<p>The young man swayed a little and put out his hand to steady himself.</p>
+
+<p>It seemed to Donald as if he would never speak.</p>
+
+<p>When he did his voice was tremulous with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he replied almost in a whisper. "I am Sandy's brother. Tell me of
+Sandy and of my father."</p>
+
+<div class="figchapter">
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204"> [204]</a></span></p>
+    <img src="images/chapter.png" width="500" height="191"
+       alt="Chapter Decoration" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br />
+
+DONALD DECIDES</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<img class="figleft" src="images/isheep.png" width="150" height="170"
+     alt="" />
+It was a wonderful story, Donald thought.</p>
+
+<p>He was never tired of living over how, in visiting the Mortonstown
+mills, they had so unexpectedly found Douglas McCulloch; how, because of
+ill health, he was on the point of going West; and how, with Mr.
+Munger's permission, Mr. Clark had offered him the position as Sandy's
+assistant at Crescent Ranch. It was little short of a miracle that it
+had all come about!</p>
+
+<p>It was interesting, too, to hear what had happened to Douglas after he
+left Idaho. When he first reached the East it was indeed a rude
+awakening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205"> [205]</a></span> 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&mdash;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.</p>
+
+<p>And now the chance had come&mdash;it was almost unbelievable!</p>
+
+<p>"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<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"> [206]</a></span>
+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."</p>
+
+<p>"But why didn't you write to Sandy, Douglas?" inquired Donald.</p>
+
+<p>"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."</p>
+
+<p>"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."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"> [207]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"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."</p>
+
+<p>"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&mdash;going to be a great help to him in his work."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so thankful that I can," replied the younger brother. "Think of
+going once more to Idaho and running that great ranch with him! It is
+more than I deserve."</p>
+
+<p>"Make the most of your good fortune, Douglas," Mr. Clark said, "and do
+not disappoint Sandy and me."</p>
+
+<p>"I will try, sir!" was the humble response.</p>
+
+<p>Douglas McCulloch was as good as his word.</p>
+
+<p>From the moment he and Sandy were united at Crescent Ranch he threw
+himself heart and soul into his new work. The charm of the hills stole
+over him with a fascination they had never held in those far-off days
+when he was a restless boy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"> [208]</a></span> eager for the excitement of city life.
+Douglas had had his fling, and he returned to the vast Western land
+older and wiser.</p>
+
+<p>Together he and Sandy set about improving the ranch. They subscribed to
+magazines on sheep-raising; they visited other ranches and kept abreast
+of the times; they installed newer and more hygienic methods of
+wool-growing. Never had Crescent Ranch been so perfectly run. With two
+intelligent and unwearying young men at its head it bid fair to outshine
+the fame it had possessed in Old Angus's day. Gradually men interested
+in sheeping came from far and near to visit it. Clark &amp; Sons began to be
+very proud to be the owners of such a treasure.</p>
+
+<p>Thornton, in the meantime, had become Mr. Clark's right hand man at the
+Eastern office. From foreman he had worked up to being superintendent,
+and had then been promoted to traveling for the firm and selling wool.
+His devotion to Mr. Clark and everything that concerned him was
+unfailing.</p>
+
+<p>During these years Donald had completed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"> [209]</a></span> school work; had taken his
+four years at college; and loyal to his early ambition, had entered the
+Law School. If it was a disappointment to his father for him to choose
+the law instead of a business career Mr. Clark did not say so. He kept
+closely in touch with the boy's studies and was proud of the future
+before him.</p>
+
+<p>It was just as everything seemed to be moving so ideally that the first
+great calamity fell upon Clark &amp; Sons. One morning a telegram came from
+Sandy saying that a big fire had swept the ranch, leveling to the ground
+house, barns, and sheep-pens. The blaze had come about through no one's
+carelessness. Lightning had struck the central barn, and before aid
+could be summoned the entire place had been destroyed.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately no one had been injured. The herders, together with their
+flocks, were on the range; and the crops of alfalfa had not been cut and
+were therefore saved.</p>
+
+<p>"It might have been much worse, Don," said Mr. Clark in reviewing the
+situation. "We have lost no men, no sheep, no hay, no wool. Suppose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"> [210]</a></span> the
+fire had come in shearing time and had destroyed all the fleeces; or
+suppose the blaze had come about through carelessness and Sandy and
+Douglas had had themselves to blame for it. As it is, it is nobody's
+fault&mdash;I am glad of that&mdash;and nothing has been lost but can be restored.
+The buildings are well covered by insurance and can be rebuilt during
+the summer. The chief trouble is that all this has happened at a time
+when I am very busy. I ought to go to Idaho, but I hardly see&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't I go, father?" interrupted Donald quickly. "I don't see why I
+couldn't adjust the insurance and help about having new buildings put
+up. Sandy and Douglas have good judgment, and before I started you could
+tell me just what you want done. Besides," he added shyly, "I am now
+through my first year at the Law School and have some little knowledge
+of legal affairs&mdash;that is, I know more than I used to."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark beamed.</p>
+
+<p>"You could go in my place perfectly well, Don, if you are willing to
+give up your summer vacation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211"> [211]</a></span> to it. It would certainly be a great help.
+But how about those house-parties you had planned for?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can decline those, father. I'd be glad to go!" was Donald's reply. "I
+always promised Sandy I would come West again some time, and I should
+really enjoy another glimpse of the hills."</p>
+
+<p>So it was arranged.</p>
+
+<p>Within two days Donald was speeding West, and almost before he realized
+it he was back at Crescent Ranch.</p>
+
+<p>Then came letters for Mr. Clark.</p>
+
+<p>The insurance was adjusted and with the aid of the McCullochs, Donald
+was drawing up plans for new barns&mdash;barns with cement floors, and far
+better ventilated and equipped than the old ones had been. Almost every
+day brought to the Eastern office pages and pages of sketches for
+sheep-folds and modern contrivances for lessening the labor of
+wool-growing. Every line of these letters bubbled with enthusiasm. There
+could be no possible question that Donald's heart was in every word he
+wrote.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212"> [212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Summer passed and the time for the beginning of the college term drew
+near.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark began to look for the boy's return.</p>
+
+<p>Still there was no Donald!</p>
+
+<p>Then came another letter:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="right i">Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho.</p>
+<p class="smcap">Dear Father:</p>
+
+<p>You have been so generous in letting me follow out my own wishes as
+to my future, that I hardly know how to write you. I hope you will
+not be disappointed when you hear what I am going to say. The fact
+is, dad, after thinking the matter well over I have changed my mind
+about studying law. I have become tremendously interested in
+Crescent Ranch and in wool-growing, and I am wild to jump into the
+work.</p>
+
+<p>If I thought you approved I should like to stay out here and see the
+buildings finished and then go to Kansas City with Sandy to select
+more sheep. If, however, you wish me to continue my law course I am
+perfectly willing to come East and take my degree.</p>
+
+<p>Please wire.</p>
+
+<p class="right">
+<span class="dedent">Affectionately your son,</span><br />
+<span class="dedent2 smcap">Donald Clark.</span>
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Donald's father read the letter twice. Then he called his stenographer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"> [213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Lawson," he said briskly, "I want to dictate a telegram and have you
+get it off right away. Here is the message:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p class="i">
+"Mr. Donald Clark,<br />
+<span class="indent">Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho.</span>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Cut out the law. Take up sheeping. Three cheers for you!</p>
+
+<p class="right dedent">
+"(Signed) <span class="smcap">Willard Payson Clark.</span>
+</p></div>
+
+<p>"Now repeat the message."</p>
+
+<p>The stenographer did so.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Clark chuckled aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"That is O. K., Lawson. Send it along as soon as possible. Oh, and
+Lawson&mdash;here is a gold-piece which goes with that telegram. Keep it in
+memory of this day, for it is the happiest one of my life. Mr. Donald is
+coming into Clark &amp; Sons!"</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24858-h.htm or 24858-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/5/24858/
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/24858-h/images/abear.png b/24858-h/images/abear.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c6483ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/abear.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/chapter.png b/24858-h/images/chapter.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..704cf3a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/chapter.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/ddog.png b/24858-h/images/ddog.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b18fb7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/ddog.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/dsheep.png b/24858-h/images/dsheep.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..97567ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/dsheep.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/frontispiece.png b/24858-h/images/frontispiece.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a553c59
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/frontispiece.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/i042.png b/24858-h/images/i042.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b479e87
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/i042.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/i092.png b/24858-h/images/i092.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f2ac77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/i092.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/i125.png b/24858-h/images/i125.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bcec35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/i125.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/i172.png b/24858-h/images/i172.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41a57bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/i172.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/i193.png b/24858-h/images/i193.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39ead20
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/i193.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/ibear.png b/24858-h/images/ibear.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b108b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/ibear.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/idog.png b/24858-h/images/idog.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b06134
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/idog.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/isheep.png b/24858-h/images/isheep.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3fc724f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/isheep.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/tdog.png b/24858-h/images/tdog.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e8fb5f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/tdog.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/tsheep.png b/24858-h/images/tsheep.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ee5346
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/tsheep.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/wbear.png b/24858-h/images/wbear.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d44f667
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/wbear.png
diff --git a/24858-h/images/wdog.png b/24858-h/images/wdog.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc4785a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-h/images/wdog.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0001-image1.png b/24858-page-images/f0001-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..41b6ef3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0001-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0001.png b/24858-page-images/f0001.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f271d18
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0001.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0002.png b/24858-page-images/f0002.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d42e8d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0002.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0003.png b/24858-page-images/f0003.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9acf1ae
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0003.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0004.png b/24858-page-images/f0004.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9d36de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0004.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0005.png b/24858-page-images/f0005.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7c4fc9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0005.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0006.png b/24858-page-images/f0006.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edccef3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0006.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/f0007.png b/24858-page-images/f0007.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3368c78
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/f0007.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0009-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0009-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..899e28e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0009-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0009-image2.png b/24858-page-images/p0009-image2.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b08841e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0009-image2.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0009.png b/24858-page-images/p0009.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..968ad9f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0009.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0010.png b/24858-page-images/p0010.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..96bf855
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0010.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0011.png b/24858-page-images/p0011.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0aeaf8d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0011.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0012.png b/24858-page-images/p0012.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92a25dc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0012.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0013.png b/24858-page-images/p0013.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db736ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0013.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0014.png b/24858-page-images/p0014.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a0f55bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0014.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0015.png b/24858-page-images/p0015.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5c41a77
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0015.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0016.png b/24858-page-images/p0016.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9f3a7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0016.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0017.png b/24858-page-images/p0017.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5f07215
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0017.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0018.png b/24858-page-images/p0018.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d341323
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0018.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0019.png b/24858-page-images/p0019.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8cf1f93
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0019.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0020.png b/24858-page-images/p0020.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..869eb2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0020.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0021.png b/24858-page-images/p0021.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d308cda
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0021.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0022.png b/24858-page-images/p0022.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2c650bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0022.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0023.png b/24858-page-images/p0023.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ad0f3f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0023.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0024.png b/24858-page-images/p0024.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0856e22
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0024.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0025.png b/24858-page-images/p0025.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dd7d9b6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0025.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0026.png b/24858-page-images/p0026.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f2ec75f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0026.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0027-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0027-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..77eadfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0027-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0027.png b/24858-page-images/p0027.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d8ba3a3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0027.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0028.png b/24858-page-images/p0028.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..257c1cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0028.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0029.png b/24858-page-images/p0029.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..660dcc1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0029.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0030.png b/24858-page-images/p0030.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..69b2221
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0030.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0031.png b/24858-page-images/p0031.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e512298
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0031.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0032.png b/24858-page-images/p0032.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..93b4abd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0032.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0033.png b/24858-page-images/p0033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4b4339
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0033.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0034.png b/24858-page-images/p0034.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e0472e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0034.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0035.png b/24858-page-images/p0035.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5b06d53
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0035.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0036-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0036-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..343d2c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0036-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0036.png b/24858-page-images/p0036.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4ec4ad
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0036.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0037.png b/24858-page-images/p0037.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31d5b48
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0037.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0038.png b/24858-page-images/p0038.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0dfaf2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0038.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0039.png b/24858-page-images/p0039.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b490c50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0039.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0040.png b/24858-page-images/p0040.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2879180
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0040.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0041.png b/24858-page-images/p0041.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d4343c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0041.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0042.png b/24858-page-images/p0042.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d1bf5e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0042.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0043-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0043-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8024bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0043-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0043.png b/24858-page-images/p0043.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..585e8bb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0043.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0044.png b/24858-page-images/p0044.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ddce94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0044.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0045.png b/24858-page-images/p0045.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b76713
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0045.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0046.png b/24858-page-images/p0046.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c9a491b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0046.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0047.png b/24858-page-images/p0047.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a816db6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0047.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0048.png b/24858-page-images/p0048.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b1ca41
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0048.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0049.png b/24858-page-images/p0049.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a693055
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0049.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0050.png b/24858-page-images/p0050.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d154116
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0050.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0051.png b/24858-page-images/p0051.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f074e13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0051.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0052.png b/24858-page-images/p0052.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53930c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0052.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0053.png b/24858-page-images/p0053.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e19e26e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0053.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0054.png b/24858-page-images/p0054.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..199eaef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0054.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0055.png b/24858-page-images/p0055.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c3b9eca
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0055.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0056-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0056-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5fccbd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0056-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0056.png b/24858-page-images/p0056.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7ddcf3c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0056.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0057.png b/24858-page-images/p0057.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2983894
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0057.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0058.png b/24858-page-images/p0058.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2a9772a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0058.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0059.png b/24858-page-images/p0059.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5fb88f8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0059.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0060.png b/24858-page-images/p0060.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16c77c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0060.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0061.png b/24858-page-images/p0061.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..172b62e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0061.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0062.png b/24858-page-images/p0062.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2bd0a32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0062.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0063.png b/24858-page-images/p0063.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0fb0ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0063.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0064.png b/24858-page-images/p0064.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a493181
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0064.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0065.png b/24858-page-images/p0065.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7dac69
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0065.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0066.png b/24858-page-images/p0066.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3625357
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0066.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0067.png b/24858-page-images/p0067.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b433a4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0067.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0068.png b/24858-page-images/p0068.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d8c64e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0068.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0069.png b/24858-page-images/p0069.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fa68e1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0069.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0070-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0070-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6fa10ef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0070-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0070.png b/24858-page-images/p0070.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67d0b35
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0070.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0071.png b/24858-page-images/p0071.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a0938e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0071.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0072.png b/24858-page-images/p0072.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2bdfd2e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0072.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0073.png b/24858-page-images/p0073.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31ca62c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0073.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0074.png b/24858-page-images/p0074.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b0cf81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0074.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0075.png b/24858-page-images/p0075.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..30e2d8e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0075.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0076.png b/24858-page-images/p0076.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f4a3b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0076.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0077.png b/24858-page-images/p0077.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0363dc1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0077.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0078.png b/24858-page-images/p0078.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..457583b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0078.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0079.png b/24858-page-images/p0079.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1660fb0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0079.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0080.png b/24858-page-images/p0080.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2c3262
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0080.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0081.png b/24858-page-images/p0081.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ad5f0fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0081.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0082-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0082-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86062c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0082-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0082.png b/24858-page-images/p0082.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..16bce2d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0082.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0083.png b/24858-page-images/p0083.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2eb83c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0083.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0084.png b/24858-page-images/p0084.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..204797e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0084.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0085.png b/24858-page-images/p0085.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0224a7d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0085.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0086.png b/24858-page-images/p0086.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9ccb64d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0086.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0087.png b/24858-page-images/p0087.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5e1ade3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0087.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0088.png b/24858-page-images/p0088.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6c62078
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0088.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0089.png b/24858-page-images/p0089.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b5dbdb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0089.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0090.png b/24858-page-images/p0090.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c749e34
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0090.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0091.png b/24858-page-images/p0091.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e82656c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0091.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0092.png b/24858-page-images/p0092.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..777b838
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0092.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0093.png b/24858-page-images/p0093.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e2f251
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0093.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0094-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0094-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc647e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0094-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0094.png b/24858-page-images/p0094.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7317f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0094.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0095.png b/24858-page-images/p0095.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01e74be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0095.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0096.png b/24858-page-images/p0096.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0071bd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0096.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0097.png b/24858-page-images/p0097.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f7231fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0097.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0098.png b/24858-page-images/p0098.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e365d81
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0098.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0099.png b/24858-page-images/p0099.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..045cd31
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0099.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0100.png b/24858-page-images/p0100.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02bc142
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0100.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0101.png b/24858-page-images/p0101.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bbd9ad1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0101.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0102.png b/24858-page-images/p0102.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a45ceb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0102.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0103-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0103-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ded1628
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0103-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0103.png b/24858-page-images/p0103.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf3c4e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0103.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0104.png b/24858-page-images/p0104.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..66a47e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0104.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0105.png b/24858-page-images/p0105.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49712eb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0105.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0106.png b/24858-page-images/p0106.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5058db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0106.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0107.png b/24858-page-images/p0107.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ee5623
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0107.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0108.png b/24858-page-images/p0108.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..394117c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0108.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0109.png b/24858-page-images/p0109.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e5aeff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0109.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0110.png b/24858-page-images/p0110.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f20a72b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0110.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0111.png b/24858-page-images/p0111.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e345d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0111.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0112.png b/24858-page-images/p0112.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bf1712
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0112.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0113.png b/24858-page-images/p0113.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca09f6a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0113.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0114.png b/24858-page-images/p0114.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a2c4e2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0114.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0115.png b/24858-page-images/p0115.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ffef20c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0115.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0116.png b/24858-page-images/p0116.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75bfeab
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0116.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0117.png b/24858-page-images/p0117.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2acd5d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0117.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0118.png b/24858-page-images/p0118.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b5ad1b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0118.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0119.png b/24858-page-images/p0119.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..86e6dcf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0119.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0120.png b/24858-page-images/p0120.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e785be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0120.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0121.png b/24858-page-images/p0121.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8fa6d40
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0121.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0122-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0122-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bd57a2c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0122-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0122.png b/24858-page-images/p0122.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a3ff1e9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0122.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0123.png b/24858-page-images/p0123.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..85d8911
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0123.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0124.png b/24858-page-images/p0124.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..480859d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0124.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0125.png b/24858-page-images/p0125.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..947b713
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0125.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0126-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0126-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..353459c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0126-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0126.png b/24858-page-images/p0126.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c53b348
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0126.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0127.png b/24858-page-images/p0127.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..12213a6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0127.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0128.png b/24858-page-images/p0128.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bcea9f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0128.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0129.png b/24858-page-images/p0129.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22c2bd6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0129.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0130.png b/24858-page-images/p0130.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..47f9b58
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0130.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0131.png b/24858-page-images/p0131.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ea82366
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0131.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0132.png b/24858-page-images/p0132.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d77e877
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0132.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0133.png b/24858-page-images/p0133.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..656fcaf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0133.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0134.png b/24858-page-images/p0134.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8bbf56
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0134.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0135.png b/24858-page-images/p0135.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8890136
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0135.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0136-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0136-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..edcf12e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0136-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0136.png b/24858-page-images/p0136.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..875541e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0136.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0137.png b/24858-page-images/p0137.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d5368e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0137.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0138.png b/24858-page-images/p0138.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d75bc39
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0138.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0139.png b/24858-page-images/p0139.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68a64d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0139.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0140.png b/24858-page-images/p0140.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..14a38af
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0140.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0141.png b/24858-page-images/p0141.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d27075a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0141.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0142.png b/24858-page-images/p0142.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..708a070
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0142.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0143.png b/24858-page-images/p0143.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..826c687
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0143.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0144.png b/24858-page-images/p0144.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7520b8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0144.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0145.png b/24858-page-images/p0145.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..229c0bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0145.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0146.png b/24858-page-images/p0146.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1fe7a29
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0146.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0147.png b/24858-page-images/p0147.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e0dbf67
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0147.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0148.png b/24858-page-images/p0148.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..346720d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0148.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0149.png b/24858-page-images/p0149.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48054d2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0149.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0150.png b/24858-page-images/p0150.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4d2f783
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0150.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0151.png b/24858-page-images/p0151.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..24927f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0151.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0152.png b/24858-page-images/p0152.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7e2368f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0152.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0153.png b/24858-page-images/p0153.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a797004
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0153.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0154.png b/24858-page-images/p0154.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4845c27
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0154.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0155.png b/24858-page-images/p0155.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..678ce86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0155.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0156.png b/24858-page-images/p0156.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..308282f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0156.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0157.png b/24858-page-images/p0157.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..212226c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0157.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0158.png b/24858-page-images/p0158.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1bf1184
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0158.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0159.png b/24858-page-images/p0159.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2102634
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0159.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0160.png b/24858-page-images/p0160.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75d23c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0160.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0161.png b/24858-page-images/p0161.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..701e5c2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0161.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0162.png b/24858-page-images/p0162.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..982bbb5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0162.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0163.png b/24858-page-images/p0163.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8e50674
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0163.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0164.png b/24858-page-images/p0164.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d70a47c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0164.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0165.png b/24858-page-images/p0165.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f63b62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0165.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0166.png b/24858-page-images/p0166.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a7bb99f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0166.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0167.png b/24858-page-images/p0167.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e93d583
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0167.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0168.png b/24858-page-images/p0168.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a73dab7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0168.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0169.png b/24858-page-images/p0169.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ffef0f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0169.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0170.png b/24858-page-images/p0170.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c29b69f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0170.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0171.png b/24858-page-images/p0171.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2aff38f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0171.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0172.png b/24858-page-images/p0172.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dcc053d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0172.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0173-image1.png b/24858-page-images/p0173-image1.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e7d0c4b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0173-image1.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0173.png b/24858-page-images/p0173.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1d49280
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0173.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0174.png b/24858-page-images/p0174.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..584b382
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0174.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0175.png b/24858-page-images/p0175.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0dd3322
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0175.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0176.png b/24858-page-images/p0176.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d21fcd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0176.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0177.png b/24858-page-images/p0177.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf72821
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0177.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0178.png b/24858-page-images/p0178.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bc04472
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0178.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0179.png b/24858-page-images/p0179.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..38cb9fb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0179.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0180.png b/24858-page-images/p0180.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a457710
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0180.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0181.png b/24858-page-images/p0181.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8283920
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0181.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0182.png b/24858-page-images/p0182.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f0f690d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0182.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0183.png b/24858-page-images/p0183.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..48978ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0183.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0184.png b/24858-page-images/p0184.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1780580
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0184.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0185.png b/24858-page-images/p0185.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2bb8862
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0185.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0186.png b/24858-page-images/p0186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cba2607
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0186.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0187.png b/24858-page-images/p0187.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..75437fe
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0187.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0188.png b/24858-page-images/p0188.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4878c98
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0188.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0189.png b/24858-page-images/p0189.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1a57896
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0189.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0190.png b/24858-page-images/p0190.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dc1f550
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0190.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0191.png b/24858-page-images/p0191.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7c9de39
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0191.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0192.png b/24858-page-images/p0192.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9bf206c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0192.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0193.png b/24858-page-images/p0193.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..09cf2ec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0193.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0194.png b/24858-page-images/p0194.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..353c42d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0194.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0195.png b/24858-page-images/p0195.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b012559
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0195.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0196.png b/24858-page-images/p0196.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..720c4d4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0196.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0197.png b/24858-page-images/p0197.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..61166bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0197.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0198.png b/24858-page-images/p0198.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1df000d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0198.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0199.png b/24858-page-images/p0199.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e3b580e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0199.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0200.png b/24858-page-images/p0200.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2023e3e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0200.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0201.png b/24858-page-images/p0201.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3b92a7b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0201.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0202.png b/24858-page-images/p0202.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6901a38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0202.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0203.png b/24858-page-images/p0203.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..046126d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0203.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0204.png b/24858-page-images/p0204.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1b2916a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0204.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0205.png b/24858-page-images/p0205.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23fc6a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0205.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0206.png b/24858-page-images/p0206.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0092463
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0206.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0207.png b/24858-page-images/p0207.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..74aa17b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0207.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0208.png b/24858-page-images/p0208.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9be00c7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0208.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0209.png b/24858-page-images/p0209.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e48d3e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0209.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0210.png b/24858-page-images/p0210.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..779f0cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0210.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0211.png b/24858-page-images/p0211.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4336e0b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0211.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0212.png b/24858-page-images/p0212.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..af6e5b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0212.png
diff --git a/24858-page-images/p0213.png b/24858-page-images/p0213.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a939d62
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858-page-images/p0213.png
diff --git a/24858.txt b/24858.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0c180b3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4820 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Story of Wool
+
+Author: Sara Ware Bassett
+
+Illustrator: Elizabeth Otis
+
+Release Date: March 17, 2008 [EBook #24858]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "HAVE OUR SHEEP ALWAYS BEEN DIPPED?"]
+
+The Story of Wool
+
+BY
+
+SARA WARE BASSETT
+
+Author of "The Story of Lumber" and
+"The Story of Leather"
+
+ILLUSTRATED BY
+ELIZABETH OTIS
+
+THE PENN PUBLISHING
+COMPANY PHILADELPHIA
+
+
+COPYRIGHT
+1913 BY
+THE PENN
+PUBLISHING
+COMPANY
+
+
+                      _To
+                    MY FATHER_
+
+
+    _It gives me pleasure to acknowledge the
+    courtesy and cooperation of the United
+    States Department of Agriculture._
+
+                                    _S. W. B._
+
+
+
+
+Contents
+
+
+       I. A Mysterious Telegram                               9
+
+      II. Who Sandy Was                                      27
+
+     III. The Dipping                                        36
+
+      IV. Sandy Gives Donald a Lesson                        56
+
+       V. Thornton Has a Reprimand                           70
+
+      VI. Donald's First Adventure On the Range              82
+
+     VII. A Narrow Escape                                   103
+
+    VIII. Donald Has a Surprise                             122
+
+      IX. A Second Adventure                                136
+
+       X. A Prediction That Came True                       152
+
+      XI. The Shearing                                      165
+
+     XII. Home to the East                                  183
+
+    XIII. Donald Decides                                    204
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF WOOL
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+A MYSTERIOUS TELEGRAM
+
+
+Donald Clark glanced up from his Latin grammar and watched his father as
+he tore open the envelope of a telegram and ran his eye over its
+contents. Evidently the message was puzzling. Again Mr. Clark read it.
+Donald wondered what it could be. All the afternoon the yellow envelope
+had been on the table, and more than once his mind had wandered from the
+lessons he was preparing to speculate on the possible tidings wrapped
+up in that sealed packet. Not that a telegram was an unheard-of event in
+the family. No, his father received many; most of them, however, went to
+the Boston office, and the boy could not imagine what this one was doing
+at their Cambridge home.
+
+The moment his father entered the house Donald handed him the envelope
+and Mr. Clark quickly stripped it open; yet even though it now lay
+spread out before him the mystery it contained appeared to be unsolved.
+It was seldom that Donald asked questions, nevertheless he found himself
+wondering and wondering what it was that had brought that odd little
+wrinkle into his father's forehead. Donald understood that wrinkle; he
+had seen it many times and knew it never came unless some question arose
+to which it was difficult to frame an answer. As his father and he had
+lived alone together ever since he could remember they had grown to know
+each other very well, and had become the best of friends. It therefore
+followed that when one worried, both worried.
+
+As the boy looked on, his father glanced up suddenly and caught sight
+of the anxiety mirrored in his face. The man smiled kindly.
+
+"I can find no answer to this riddle, Don," he said. "Listen! Perhaps
+you can help me. A few days ago I received word from Crescent Ranch that
+Johnson, our manager, had been thrown from his horse while out on the
+range and so badly hurt that he will never again be able to continue his
+work with us. They have taken him to the hospital at Glen City. The
+letter came from Tom Thornton, the head herder at the ranch. Thornton
+assured me that everything was going well, and that there was not the
+slightest need for me to come to Idaho."
+
+Donald listened.
+
+"Well, to-day I received this telegram. It is neither from Johnson nor
+Thornton. It reads:
+
+"'You would do well to visit Crescent Ranch,' and it is signed--'Sandy
+McCulloch.'"
+
+"Who is Sandy McCulloch?" asked Donald.
+
+"That's the puzzle! I do not know. I never heard of any such person in
+my life--not that I remember. Evidently, though, he knows enough about
+me to know that I own that sheep ranch, and to think that I ought to go
+out there and see it. I do not understand it at all. What do you make of
+it, son?"
+
+Donald thought carefully.
+
+"Do you suppose anything is wrong on the ranch?"
+
+"No, indeed! Thornton wrote particularly that everything was all right.
+He was Johnson's assistant, and he ought to know. Besides, he has been
+with us a long time, and is thoroughly familiar with every part of the
+work."
+
+"Maybe it's a joke," ventured Donald.
+
+"It would be a stupid sort of joke to get me from Boston to Idaho on a
+wild-goose chase. No, there is no joke about this," went on Mr. Clark,
+rising and pacing the floor. "Sandy McCulloch is real, and he has some
+real reason for wanting me to go to Crescent Ranch. I think I shall take
+his advice and go."
+
+Donald was astounded. His father never left home.
+
+"And the office?"
+
+"Uncle Harold will have to do double duty while I am gone."
+
+"And--and--I?" inquired the boy hesitatingly.
+
+Idaho seemed very far away--quite at the other end of the world.
+
+"You? Oh, you'll have to go along too! I shall need you."
+
+Donald drew a long breath.
+
+"Let me see," continued his father, "this is the end of March, isn't it?
+Your spring term is about over. I happen to know you are well up in your
+work, for I met Mr. Hurlbert, the high school principal, only yesterday.
+I am sure that if you fall behind by going on this trip you will study
+all the harder to make up the work when you get back, won't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir!" was the emphatic promise.
+
+"You see I've no idea how long I shall be detained out West, therefore I
+have no mind to leave you here. You might be ill. Besides, I should miss
+you, Don."
+
+"I'd much rather go with you, father."
+
+A quick light of pleasure flashed in the father's eyes.
+
+"Then that's settled," he exclaimed decisively. "Now I'll tell you what I
+mean to do. I am not going to wire Crescent Ranch that we are coming.
+Instead we will drop down and surprise them. It won't take long to see
+how things are running, and even if it proves that everything is all
+right I shall not begrudge the trip, for I have felt for some time that
+I ought to go. Clark & Sons have owned that ranch for thirty years, and
+yet I have never been near it. It certainly is time I went."
+
+"How did it happen you never did go, father?"
+
+"Well, during your grandfather's life an old Scotchman managed the ranch
+and attended to shipping the wool. As we had nothing to do but to sell
+it, we did not bother much about the place, for we had perfect
+confidence in Old Angus, the manager. After your grandfather died, Uncle
+Harold and I had all we could do to attend to the business here. It grew
+so rapidly that it was about as much as two young fellows like ourselves
+could handle. We always meant to go out--one of us--but we never did.
+Then our faithful Scotchman died. We felt lost, I can tell you! He had
+had all the management of Crescent for twenty years and was one of the
+finest men in the world. He might have lived until now, perhaps, had he
+not been caught on the range in a blizzard while struggling to get a
+flock of sheep out of the storm and thereby lost his life."
+
+Mr. Clark paused a moment.
+
+"After him came Johnson. He has done his work well, so far as we know;
+but now he is out of the running too and we shall have to get some one
+else."
+
+"Whom are you going to get?"
+
+"I haven't the most remote idea. You see, Don, I know next to nothing
+about managing a ranch. I stay here in Boston and simply sell wool. This
+end of the business I know thoroughly, but the other end is Greek to
+me."
+
+Donald laughed. He was just beginning Greek.
+
+"I am glad you don't know about a ranch, father," he exclaimed.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Oh, because you seem to know almost everything else, and it is fun to
+find something you don't know."
+
+There was admiration in the boy's words.
+
+His father shook his head and there was a shadow of sadness in his smile
+as he replied:
+
+"I know very little, Donald boy. The older I grow the less I know, too.
+You will feel that way when you are my age. Now here is a chance for us
+to learn something together. Let's go to Idaho and find out all we can
+about sheep-raising."
+
+Within the next few days the plans for the journey were completed.
+
+As one article after another was purchased and packed the trip unfolded
+into a most alluring pilgrimage. They must take their riding togs, for
+Uncle Harold reminded them that they would probably be in the saddle
+much of the time; their camping kit must go also; above all they must
+carry good revolvers and rifles. Donald's heart beat high. He and his
+father had always ridden a great deal together; it was their favorite
+sport. Now they were to have whole days of it. And added to this
+pleasure was the crowning glory of both a rifle and a revolver!
+
+All this fairy-land of the future had come about through Sandy
+McCulloch!
+
+Who was this wonderful Sandy? And why had he telegraphed?
+
+Sandy McCulloch! The very name breathed a charm. Donald repeated it to
+himself constantly. He dreamed dreams and wove adventures about this
+mysterious Scotchman. He knew he should like Sandy. Who could help it?
+His name was enough.
+
+In the meantime the days of preparation flew by. Donald's spring
+examinations were passed with honors--a fact which his father declared
+proved that he had taken his work in earnest and that he deserved an
+outing. Mr. Clark laughingly ventured the hope that he should be able to
+leave his business affairs in equally good condition.
+
+"You have set quite a pace for me, Don! I am not sure whether I can take
+honors at the office or not. I have done the best I could, however, to
+put things into Uncle Harold's hands so to cause him as little trouble
+as possible."
+
+Donald tried not to become impatient while these arrangements were being
+made.
+
+At last dawned that clear April morning when the East was left behind
+and the journey to the West--that unknown land--was begun. Donald had
+never been West. The vastness of the country, the newness of the scenery
+surprised and delighted him. Geography had never seemed so real before.
+No longer were the various states pink, green, or purple splotches on
+the map; they were real living places with people, sunshine, and fresh
+air.
+
+"I had no idea America was so big!" he gasped to his father.
+
+"It's the finest country in the world, Don! Be proud and thankful that
+you are an American. No other land does so much for her people. Be
+humble, too. Never let a chance go by to do your part in helping the
+country that does so much for you."
+
+They were standing in the glassed-in rear of the train, and as Mr.
+Clark spoke he pointed to vast tracts of forest land that sped past
+them.
+
+"I am afraid I can't do anything for a great country like this, father,"
+said Donald, a little quiver in his voice.
+
+"There is one thing we can all do--that is be good citizens. Every law
+we have was made for the good of our people. In so far as you keep these
+laws you will be aiding in building up a more perfect America. Bear your
+share in that work--do not be a hindrance, Don."
+
+"I'll try, father," was the boy's grave reply.
+
+To help in the progress of such a land as this! More than once Donald
+thought of his father's words as the train threaded its way along the
+banks of mighty rivers, rolled through great woodlands, or skirted
+cities which throbbed with the life of mighty industries.
+
+And all this vast-reaching land was his country--his!
+
+On every hand there were wonders!
+
+As the express thundered along he poured out question after question.
+
+Why did people go way to Idaho to raise sheep? Why didn't his father
+raise his sheep in the East? Certainly there was room enough, plenty of
+room, that was much nearer than Idaho. How did sheep get into the
+mountains of Idaho anyway?
+
+Mr. Clark ducked his head under the torrent of queries.
+
+"You will drown me with questions!" he exclaimed laughing. "Well, I
+shall do my best to answer you. New Mexico was the first sheep center in
+our country. Herds were originally brought from Spain, and these flocks
+worked their way up from Mexico through New Mexico and California; here
+the hills supplied the coolness necessary to animals with such thick
+coats, and furnished them at the same time with plentiful grass for
+food. During the day the herds grazed, and at night they were driven
+into corrals of cedar built by the shepherds. These sheep were mostly
+Merinos, a variety raised in Spain. Afterward, in 1853, a man named
+William W. Hollister brought three hundred ewes across our continent to
+the West. Think what a journey it must have been!"
+
+"Wasn't the railroad built?"
+
+"No. Neither were there any bridges. There were rivers to swim and
+mountains to climb; furthermore there was many a search for water-holes,
+because Mr. Hollister was not well enough acquainted with the country to
+know where to find water for himself and the herd."
+
+"I should not think a sheep would have lived through such a journey!"
+cried Donald.
+
+"Many of them did, however," answered his father, "and that is how our
+western sheep-raising industry began. Now it is one of the great
+occupations of our land, and soon you and I are to know more about it."
+
+"And about Sandy McCulloch, too, I hope," put in the boy.
+
+"I hope so; only remember--not a word of that telegram to any one at the
+ranch. We shall get into Glen City this noon if our train is on time and
+we must trust to luck in getting to Crescent Ranch. It is fifteen miles
+from the station, up in the foot-hills of the Rockies."
+
+"The--the--you don't mean the Rocky Mountains!" gasped Donald, his eyes
+very wide open.
+
+"Certainly. Have you forgotten your geography?"
+
+"Of course I know that a spur of the Rocky Mountains does run diagonally
+across Idaho; but somehow I never thought of really being in the Rocky
+Mountains!"
+
+Mr. Clark enjoyed the outburst.
+
+"To be where there are bears and bob-cats and----"
+
+"Maybe, after all, you would rather have stayed at home and finished out
+your school year."
+
+"I rather guess not!" was the lad's emphatic reply.
+
+So impatient was he to see the marvels of this magic land that the last
+few hours of the journey seemed unending.
+
+But they did end.
+
+Toward noon the heavy train pulled into Glen City and they bundled out
+on to the platform. They were the only passengers, but there was a
+great deal of freight--boxes, barrels, and cases of provisions. As they
+stood hesitating as to what they had better do a tall, bony young fellow
+approached the station agent and called with a decided suggestion of the
+Highlander in his accent:
+
+"I dinna see those kegs of lime for Crescent Ranch, Mitchell."
+
+"They're here. You will find them at the end of the platform. Come, and
+I'll help you pile them on your wagon."
+
+Mr. Clark turned to the Scotchman.
+
+"Are you going to Crescent Ranch?"
+
+"Aye, I be, sir."
+
+"Can you take my son and me along?"
+
+The Scotchman studied him carefully.
+
+"Have you business at the ranch?" he asked, looking keenly into the eyes
+of the speaker.
+
+Mr. Clark met his gaze good-naturedly.
+
+"We might possibly have," he answered. "At any rate we want to go up
+there. My name is Clark and I come from Boston."
+
+"Clark, did you say, sir?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+The stolid stare of the Scotchman did not waver.
+
+"Mayhap you're the owner, sir."
+
+"Yes, I am."
+
+A gleam of something very like satisfaction passed over the tanned
+features of the young man. Then his face settled back into its wonted
+calmness.
+
+"It's welcome you are, sir," he said heartily. "I dinna think there'll
+be trouble about taking you and your son to Crescent."
+
+He wheeled and led the way to a wagon, where he piled up some sacks of
+grain for his guests to sit upon. Then he lifted in their luggage and
+the freight for which he had come, and gathered the lines over the backs
+of his horses.
+
+As the wagon toiled up the long, low hills Mr. Clark began asking
+questions about the ranch--he asked many questions concerning the
+country and the flocks. To all of these he received terse answers.
+
+Presently the Scotchman turned.
+
+"It's little you be knowin' of sheepin', sir."
+
+The remark was made with so much simplicity that it could not have been
+mistaken for rudeness.
+
+"Very little."
+
+"Keep it to yourself, man," was the laconic advice the Highlander tossed
+over his shoulder as he transferred his attention to his horses.
+
+Mr. Clark bit his lip to hide a smile.
+
+"What is your name, my lad?" he asked suddenly.
+
+"Sandy McCulloch, sir," was the quiet answer.
+
+Donald waited, listening eagerly to every turn of the conversation that
+followed, but to his astonishment neither his father nor Sandy McCulloch
+spoke one word regarding the mysterious telegram.
+
+It was nightfall when the wagon that had brought them turned into a
+muddy drive and stopped before a bare looking house situated in a
+meadow, and surrounded by a number of vast barns and sheep-pens. Out of
+this house came a broad-shouldered, bronzed man who stood on the steps,
+waiting their approach. He wore trousers of sheepskin, a soiled flannel
+shirt, and round his neck--knotted in the back--was a red handkerchief.
+Donald noticed that into his belt of Mexican leather was tucked a
+revolver. He stared at the strangers inquiringly.
+
+Mr. Clark jumped out as soon as the wagon stopped, and extended his
+hand.
+
+"I do not know your name," he said pleasantly, "but mine is Clark. My
+son Donald and I have come from Boston to see the ranch."
+
+The man sprang forward.
+
+"I'm Tom Thornton, sir. What a pleasure to have a visit from you! Such
+an unexpected visit, too."
+
+He slapped Mr. Clark heartily on the shoulder and took Donald's hand in
+a tight grip.
+
+But though he talked loudly, and laughed a great deal while carrying in
+their luggage, for some reason Donald felt certain that really Tom
+Thornton was not glad to see them at all.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Chapter II
+
+WHO SANDY WAS
+
+
+The next morning both Donald and his father were astir early.
+
+There was nothing to keep them within the great chilly house, and
+everything to lure them into the sunshine. The sky was without a cloud,
+and into its blueness stretched distant ranges of hazy mountains at
+whose feet nestled lower hills covered with faint green. Near at hand
+patches of meadow were toned to grayish white by grazing bands of sheep.
+On the still air came the flat, metallic note of herd-bells, and the
+bleating of numberless unseen flocks within the pens and barns.
+
+What a novel scene it was!
+
+The newcomers found their way to a sheltered corner where they could
+look out before them into the vastness.
+
+It was all so strange, so interesting!
+
+Somewhere in the ravine below they could catch the rushing music of a
+stream which wove itself in and out a maze of rolling hills and was lost
+at last in the shadows of the green valleys.
+
+As they stood silent and drank in the beauty about them, an angry voice
+broke the stillness.
+
+It came from the interior of the barn near which they were standing.
+
+"I tell you what, Tom Thornton, I'm with Sandy McCulloch. The sheep
+always were washed after shearing in Old Angus's day, and in Johnson's
+as well. That is how Crescent Ranch came to have the good name it now
+holds. There were no scabby sheep here to infect the rest of the herd."
+
+"What's that to you, Jack Owen? You are here to mind the boss, ain't
+you? What's the use of our working like beavers for ten days to dip the
+flock if we don't have to? Dipping is a dirty, tiresome job. You are not
+in for making work for yourself, are you?"
+
+"The flocks will be ruined!"
+
+"What do you care--they are not your sheep."
+
+"Well, I have been on this ranch a long time, Thornton, and I can't help
+caring what becomes of 'em. I take the same pride in the place Sandy
+does. We have won a reputation here for doing things the way they ought
+to be done--for minding the laws--for having clean, healthy stock. Sandy
+says he shall dip his herd, anyway."
+
+"Bother Sandy! He's talked to you men until he's got you all upset. You
+would have been with me if he had kept his mouth shut. But no matter
+what he says I am running this ranch at present. I mean to run it in the
+future, too. If you're wise you will do as I tell you."
+
+"Mr. Clark may have something to say about the dipping."
+
+"Don't you fret," sneered Thornton. "I sounded him last night. He's a
+tenderfoot. I don't believe he knows a thing about sheeping."
+
+Mr. Clark drew Donald into the sun-flooded field before he spoke.
+
+Then, after a thoughtful silence he turned:
+
+"Well, Don?"
+
+"I wouldn't have that Thornton here another day, father!" broke out the
+boy hotly.
+
+"Slowly, son, slowly! We must be sure about Thornton before we condemn
+him. He has been ten years on the ranch; more than that, we are without
+a manager, and we have none in view. Remember 'he stumbles who runs
+fast.' Take time, Don, take time."
+
+Donald flushed.
+
+"I know it is the best way, but I was so angry to hear him talking that
+way about you."
+
+"Loyalty is a fine trait, Don." Mr. Clark laid his hand affectionately
+on his son's shoulder. "I like to see you loyal. But in this matter we
+must move slowly."
+
+"What about this dipping, father? What is it?"
+
+"Something about washing the sheep. I do not clearly understand it
+myself."
+
+"Shall you have it done?"
+
+"What do you say?"
+
+"Of course I do not know anything about it," Donald replied modestly,
+"but somehow I feel as if Sandy and the men are right."
+
+"I think so too."
+
+"Couldn't I ask Sandy what it is, father?"
+
+"I am thinking of asking him myself, Don, if I get a good chance."
+
+The chance came unexpectedly, for at that very moment Sandy McCulloch
+came out of one of the sheep-pens and crossed the walk to the central
+barn.
+
+"What are you up to to-day, Sandy?" called Mr. Clark.
+
+"I am going to dip my flock, sir, down in the south meadow."
+
+"I am glad of that, for it will give us a chance to see it done,"
+observed Mr. Clark. Then lowering his voice he asked: "Why do you dip
+the sheep, Sandy?"
+
+"Are you asking because you want to know?" inquired Sandy with the
+directness which characterized everything he said.
+
+"Yes, Both Donald and I wish to learn."
+
+"Well, sir, it is this way. After the shearing is over and the fleece
+removed, the coat of the sheep is light and therefore easily dried. We
+then take the flocks and run them through a bath of lime and sulphur.
+Some shepherds prefer a coal-tar dip. Whatever the dip is made of, the
+purpose is the same. It is to kill the parasites on the sheep and cure
+any diseases of the eyes. If sheep are not dipped they get the 'scab.'
+Some bit of a creature gets under their skin and burrows until it makes
+the sheep sick. Often, too, the wool will peel off in great patches. One
+sheep will take it from another, until by and by the whole herd is
+infected."
+
+Mr. Clark nodded.
+
+"I never mean to let a sickly sheep go on the range," continued Sandy.
+"I try to flax round and find out what is the matter with him so I can
+cure him. We don't want our herd spoiling the feeding grounds and the
+water-holes and giving their diseases to all the flocks that graze after
+them. If we are let graze on the range the least we can do is to be
+decent about it--that's the way I look at it."
+
+"Have our sheep always been dipped?"
+
+"Aye, sir, that they have--dipped every spring after shearing; then we
+clipped their feet before they started for the range. Sheep, you know,
+walk on two toes, and if their feet are not trimmed they get sore from
+traveling so much. I suppose nature intended sheep to climb over the
+rocks and wear their hoofs down that way. They have a queer foot. Did
+you know that there is a little oily gland between the toes to make the
+hoof moist, and keep it from cracking?"
+
+"No, I guess neither Donald nor I knew that, did we, Donald? Now about
+this dipping--do you thoroughly understand how it is done, Sandy?"
+
+"I do that, sir."
+
+Donald wondered why his father was so thoughtful.
+
+"How long have you been at Crescent Ranch, Sandy?" asked Mr. Clark at
+last.
+
+"Ever since I was a lad of fifteen, sir."
+
+"That must be about ten years!"
+
+"Fourteen."
+
+A new thought came to Mr. Clark.
+
+"Why, then you must have known Old Angus," he exclaimed.
+
+"I did, sir."
+
+"He was a fine old man, they tell me."
+
+"He was."
+
+"I never saw him--I wish I had. It was a great loss to the ranch and to
+all of us when he went."
+
+"It was indeed."
+
+"You must remember him well, Sandy."
+
+Throwing back his head with a gesture of pride, Sandy confronted Mr.
+Clark.
+
+"I do, sir," he replied simply. "He was my father."
+
+Mr. Clark and Donald stared.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me that in the first place?" cried Donald's father,
+stepping forward eagerly and seizing the hand of the young ranchman.
+
+"I thought mayhap you knew it. If not--why prate about it? It's on my
+own feet I must stand and not on my father's. If I am of any use you
+will find it out fast enough, father or no father; if I'm not 'twere
+best you found that out as well."
+
+"Independent as your forebears, Sandy!" laughed Mr. Clark.
+
+"I be a McCulloch, sir!" was all Sandy said.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DIPPING
+
+
+It was a great surprise to Tom Thornton when Mr. Clark informed him that
+he wanted the men to start in dipping the sheep as soon as they could
+get ready.
+
+"I suppose, Thornton, you have everything in readiness for the work,"
+continued the owner casually.
+
+Thornton did not hesitate.
+
+"Yes, indeed, sir. We can start right in to-day if you wish. It is for
+you to say. But really, Mr. Clark, the flock hardly needs it. Our sheep
+are in prime condition."
+
+"That's all the more reason for keeping them so, Thornton," was the
+smiling reply.
+
+"Of course that is true, sir. Very well. We will go ahead. I think I
+shall have time to give the orders, although I have got to be in Glen
+City about ten days shipping the clip."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Shipping the wool, sir."
+
+"Oh, yes."
+
+"I can start the work before I go."
+
+"I don't think you need bother, Thornton," remarked Mr. Clark slowly.
+"You go on down to Glen City and finish up your business there."
+
+"But somebody must see to the dipping if you really want it done."
+
+"I'll attend to it."
+
+"You!"
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Why--why--nothing, sir. I beg your pardon. Only I thought you might be
+too tired after your trip."
+
+"Oh, no. I am not tired at all."
+
+Thornton eyed him.
+
+Even Donald was astonished.
+
+Mr. Clark did not seem to be at all disturbed by the embarrassing
+stillness, but went on shaving down a stick he was whittling.
+
+"I do not mean to manage the dipping myself," he explained at last. "I
+shall let Sandy McCulloch take charge of it."
+
+"Sandy McCulloch! Why, sir, that boy could never do it in the world! He
+is a good lad--well enough in his way--but not very smart. Not at all
+like his father."
+
+"Well, if he has no ability I shall soon find it out. I mean to try him,
+anyway."
+
+"Oh, you can try him if you like, but I know the fellow better than you
+do. You are foolish to turn any big work over to him. He can't handle
+it."
+
+"I intend to give him the chance."
+
+Thornton's annoyance began to get beyond his control.
+
+"Very well. It is not my business," he snapped as he left the room.
+
+The instant he was gone Donald, who could not keep silent another
+moment, cried:
+
+"Oh, father! I am so glad you are going to let Sandy manage the
+dipping!"
+
+"It is an experiment, Don. Sandy is young and he may make a mess of
+things--not because he does not mean well, but because he lacks
+experience. He has been here a long time, to be sure, but he never has
+taken any care beyond watching his own flocks."
+
+"I do not think he will fail. The men will all help him. They like him."
+
+"I can see that."
+
+"And I like him too, father."
+
+"So do I, son. I am trusting him with this work not only because I like
+him but because I feel sure that the son of such a father cannot go far
+astray. It was a great surprise to me when I found Sandy was the son of
+Old Angus. You see we all thought so much of the old Scotchman that he
+was Old Angus to everybody. I had almost forgotten he had another name.
+I don't think I ever heard any one call him Angus McCulloch in my life.
+And yet I remember the name now, for I can recall seeing it written out
+on checks and letters."
+
+"It is a fine name," Donald declared.
+
+"Sandy comes of good stock. I want to help him all I can. If he has the
+right stuff in him perhaps we can give him a lift. I wish we might, for
+I feel we owe his father more than we ever can repay."
+
+It was great news to Sandy when he learned that not only was he to dip
+his own flock, but that into his hands was to be put the dipping of the
+entire herd.
+
+"I'm no so sure I can manage it, Mr. Clark," he said modestly, lapsing,
+as he often did, into his broad Scotch. "I'll do the best I can though,
+sir."
+
+"I am sure you will."
+
+And Sandy did do his best!
+
+The hot dip, with the proper proportions of lime and sulphur, was
+prepared, and Sandy tested its temperature by seeing if he could bear
+his hand in it. Then the long cement troughs were filled. These troughs
+were just wide enough so the sheep were not able to turn. Groups of
+sheep that had been driven from the larger enclosures to the small pens
+near the dipping troughs were then hurried, one by one, to the men
+standing at the head of the troughs; it was the duty of these men to
+push each sheep in turn down the smooth metal incline into the dip. The
+sheep slipped in easily. As they swam along through the steaming bath
+other men were posted midway and when a sheep passed they thrust the
+head twice under water with their crooks so that the eyes and heads--as
+well as the bodies--might be cleansed. At the far end of the troughs
+still other herders helped the bedraggled creatures out onto a draining
+platform where they dripped for a time and were afterward driven back
+into their pens.
+
+"I shouldn't think the sheep would ever dry!" Donald remarked to Sandy
+as they watched the process.
+
+"Oh, they do; only it takes a couple of days--and sometimes more before
+their wool is thoroughly dry," answered the Scotchman.
+
+Donald looked on, fascinated.
+
+The work proceeded without a hitch.
+
+The sheep were fed into the troughs, hurried on and away, only to give
+place to others. Whenever the dip cooled a fresh, hot supply was added.
+Within an hour Donald counted a hundred sheep swim their way through the
+one trough near which he chanced to be standing.
+
+Sandy McCulloch was everywhere at once--now here, now there, giving
+orders. Gladly the herders obeyed him. They all liked Sandy, not only
+for his own sake but for the sake of Old Angus, his father, under whom
+most of them had worked in years past.
+
+"Sandy's a fine lad!" Donald heard one of the herders say.
+
+"There's not a better on Crescent Ranch!" was the prompt reply from a
+grizzled old Mexican who was ducking the heads of the herd that sped
+past him.
+
+"He wouldn't make a bad boss of the ranch," murmured another in an
+undertone.
+
+[Illustration: "HE WOULDN'T MAKE A BAD BOSS"]
+
+Sandy did not hear them. He was too intent on his work. He went about it
+simply, yet with his whole soul. Day after day his cheery voice could
+be heard:
+
+"Your dip is cooling, Bernardo! Warm it up a bit. Dinna you know you'll
+have your labor for your pains unless the stuff is hot as the sheep can
+bear it? Hurry your flock ahead there, Jose. Think you we want to be
+dipping sheep the rest of the season? If those ewes have drained off
+enough let the dogs drive them back to the pens. They'll rub their sides
+up against the boards and cleanse the pen as well as themselves. Now
+bring out the new herd that came last week from Kansas City. You'll find
+them in pens seventeen and eighteen. We kept them by themselves so they
+would scatter no disease through the flock. After they are dipped they
+can be put with the others."
+
+The men took all he said good-naturedly. Sandy used no unnecessary
+words, but what he did say was crisp and to the point, and the herders
+liked it. They liked, too, to watch his face when his lips parted and
+his glistening white teeth gleamed between them. Sandy had a very
+contagious smile. He worked tirelessly, and ever as he moved about among
+the sheep two great Scotch collies tagged at his heels. Busy as he was
+he often bent down to pat one of the shaggy heads, and was rewarded by
+having the beautiful dogs thrust their long noses into his hand or rub
+up against his knees. It was amusing to Donald to watch these dogs dash
+after the sheep and drive them into the pens. Sometimes they leaped on
+the backs of the herd and ran the entire length of the line until they
+reached the ones at the front. They then proceeded to bite the necks of
+these leaders until they turned them in the desired direction. This
+done, the collies would run back and by nipping the heels of the sheep
+at the rear they would compel them to follow where they wished to have
+them go.
+
+Donald had never seen anything like it.
+
+During the time that the dipping process continued he did not lack for
+entertainment, you may be sure.
+
+"You'll soon have nothing more to do, Sandy," the boy said one night
+when he and the Scotchman were sitting in the twilight on the steps of
+the big barn.
+
+"How's that, laddie?"
+
+"Why, the dipping will be over to-morrow, won't it?"
+
+"Yes; but that is only the beginning of trouble. We shall then put the
+herd out in the wet grass a while and soften their hoofs so they can be
+trimmed before the flocks start for the range. Then the bells must be
+put on, and the bands of sheep made up for the herders."
+
+"What do you mean by making up the herd?"
+
+"I'll try to tell you. Sheep, you must know, are the queerest creatures
+under the blue of heaven. It ain't in the power of man to understand
+them. Some minutes they are doing as you'd likely think they would; the
+next thing you know they are all stampeding off by themselves, and try
+as you will you cannot stop 'em. They dinna seem sometimes to have a bit
+of brains."
+
+Donald laughed.
+
+"Aye! You may well laugh, sitting here, but it's no so funny when they
+go chasing after the leaders and jumping over the face of some cliff.
+Think of seeing a hundred of 'em piled up dead at your feet!"
+
+"Did such a thing as that really ever happen, Sandy?" questioned Donald
+incredulously.
+
+"It did so. Didn't bears get after a flock on one of the ranges and
+didn't the whole lot of scared creatures start running? If they had but
+waited either the dogs or the herders might have driven off the bears.
+But no! Nothing would do but they must run--and run they did. One after
+another they leaped over the edge of the rimrock until most of the flock
+was destroyed. Folks named the place 'Pile-Up Chasm.' It was a sorry
+loss to the owner."
+
+"But I don't see why----"
+
+"No, nor anybody else," interrupted Sandy. "That's the sort of thing
+they do. When they are frightened they never make a sound--they just
+run. If nobody heads them off they are like to run to their death; and
+when anybody does head them off it must be done carefully or the front
+ones will wheel about and pile up on all those coming toward them. Lots
+of sheep are killed in this way. They trample each other to death. Why,
+once a man down in Glen City was driving a big flock along when around a
+turn in the road came a motor-truck. The sheep got scared and the front
+ones whisked straight about. That started others. Soon there was a grand
+mix-up--sheep all panic-stricken and tramping over each other. The owner
+lost half his herd. Now you see why we have to have leaders."
+
+"Leaders?"
+
+"Yes. That is one part of making up the herds. We must put some sheep
+that are wiser than the rest in every flock that they may lead the
+stupid ones. I dinna ken where they'd be if we didn't. We take as
+leaders sheep that are 'flock-wise'--by that I mean old ewes or wethers
+that have long been in the herds and know the ways. Sometimes, also, we
+put in a goat or two, for a goat has the wit to find water and food for
+himself. Not so the sheep! Never a bit! You have to lead sheep clean up
+to grass and to water as well. They can never find anything for
+themselves."
+
+"Do they know anything at all, Sandy?" queried Donald, laughing.
+
+"They do so. In some ways they are canny enough. They will scent a
+storm, and when one is coming never a peg will they stir to graze. They
+give a queer cry, too, when they find water--a cry to tell the others in
+the flock; and if the water is brackish or tainted they make a different
+sound as if to warn the herd. Sheep are very fussy about what they
+drink. It's a strange lot they are, sure enough!"
+
+"I shouldn't think they would know enough to follow their leaders even
+if they had any," remarked Donald.
+
+"Well, you see there is a sort of instinct born in 'em to tag after each
+other. Besides, they learn to follow by playing games. Yes, indeed,"
+protested Sandy, as Donald seemed to doubt his words, "sheep are very
+fond of games. There are a number of different ones that they play. The
+one they seem to like best is 'Follow the Leader.' I don't know as you
+ever played it, but when I was a lad I did."
+
+"Of course I have played it. We used to do it at recess."
+
+"Well, the sheep like it as well as you, and it is a lucky thing, for it
+teaches them one of the very things we want them to learn. They will
+often start out, one old sheep at the head, and all the others will fall
+into line and do just what that sheep at the front does. So they learn
+the trick of keeping their eyes on a few that are wiser than they, and
+doing what the knowing ones do. They seem to have no minds of their
+own--they just trail after their leaders. If we can get leaders that are
+able to see what we want done it is a great help."
+
+"I should think so!"
+
+"When we have selected our leaders we then scatter markers through each
+band of sheep."
+
+"And what are markers, Sandy?"
+
+"For a marker you must take a black-faced sheep--or, mayhap, one with a
+crumpled horn; he must have something queer about him so you will know
+him right off when he is mixed in with the flock. We put these markers
+at the beginning of every hundred sheep. It makes it easier to keep
+track of the herd."
+
+"I'm sorry to be so stupid, Sandy," Donald said, "but I don't think I
+just understand about the markers."
+
+"We have two thousand sheep in a band," explained the herder kindly.
+"Now if one of our markers is missing we reckon that a hundred sheep are
+gone. No one sheep ever strays off by himself, you may be sure of that.
+When sheep stray they stray in bunches. If a marker wanders off you can
+safely figure that a lot of those around him have gone too. Roughly
+speaking we call it a hundred."
+
+"But when you have such big bands of sheep and they are moving about I
+should not think the markers would be in the same place twice,"
+persisted Donald, determined to fathom this puzzling problem.
+
+"You dinna ken sheep, laddie! They are as jealous to keep their rightful
+place in the flock as school children are to get the first place in the
+line. They will fight and fight if another takes the position that
+belongs to them. It is a silly idea, but an aid to the herders."
+
+"And so the leaders and these markers really help the shepherds to
+manage the flock?"
+
+"Aye. But you're leaving out the shepherd's best helper."
+
+Sandy's face suddenly softened into tenderness.
+
+"His best helper?" repeated Donald.
+
+"Aye, laddie! His dogs!"
+
+Bending down the Scotchman thrust his hand into the ruff of shaggy hair
+about the neck of one of the collies beside him. There was a low growl
+from the other dog, who rose and rested his pointed nose on Sandy's
+knee.
+
+The man laughed.
+
+"Robin," he said, addressing the collie before him, "must you always
+take it amiss if I have a word for Prince Charlie? You're no gentleman!
+Down, both of you!"
+
+The collies crouched at his feet.
+
+"I never can speak to one without speaking to the other," he went on.
+"They are jealous as magpies."
+
+"They are the finest dogs I ever saw, Sandy."
+
+"I pride myself there are not many like them," agreed the herder. "I
+raised them from puppies and trained them myself. Now Colin, who also
+goes with me when I go to the hills, is a good dog, but he is not my
+own. He belongs to the ranch. So do Victor and Hector. You never feel
+the same toward them as you do with those you have brought up yourself.
+Robin and Prince Charlie are not to be matched in the county. But to see
+them at their best you must see 'em on the range."
+
+"I wish I could!"
+
+"So it's to the range you'd be going, is it? Well, well--belike when the
+herds are made up and we set out your father will let you go up into the
+hills a piece with me."
+
+"Oh, Sandy," cried the boy, "would you take me? Do you suppose father
+would let me go?"
+
+"'Twill do no harm to ask him. I must wait, though, until I see the
+other herders off, and until Thornton is back from Glen City. The
+flocks must have a few days' rest after the dipping. Poor things! It is
+a sorry time they have being dipped in that hot bath just after they
+have lost their thick, warm coats; it makes them more chilly than ever.
+Then, too, they sometimes get small cuts while they are being sheared
+and the lime and sulphur makes the bruises smart. I am always sorry for
+the beasties. Yet after all I comfort myself with thinking that it is
+better they should be wretched for a little while than to be sick for a
+long while. It is like sitting in a dark room when you have the
+measles--you do not like it but you know you will be worse off if you
+don't do it."
+
+Sandy laughed and so did Donald.
+
+"Then it will be several days before you start for the range, Sandy."
+
+"Yes. I must wait for Thornton. I can't leave your father here alone. He
+might want me."
+
+"You have been a great help to my father, Sandy."
+
+"It's little enough I've done. I would do a good sight more if the need
+came. A McCulloch would do anything in his power for Crescent Ranch or
+its owners."
+
+"I believe you, Sandy."
+
+"You do well to believe me, lad, for I speak the living truth!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+SANDY GIVES DONALD A LESSON
+
+
+During the next few days preparations for the range went steadily
+forward.
+
+Most of the herders had been so long at Crescent Ranch that they knew
+exactly what to do. It was an ancient story to men who had worked under
+Old Angus and Johnson.
+
+To Donald, however, everything was new. From morning to night he trotted
+after Sandy until one day the young Scotchman remarked with a
+mischievous smile:
+
+"You put me verra much in mind of one of my collies--I declare if you
+don't!"
+
+The boy chuckled.
+
+"It is all so different from anything I ever saw before, Sandy. I am
+finding out so many things! Why, until yesterday I thought sheep were
+just sheep--all of them the same kind. Father mentioned Merinos, and I
+supposed they were all Merinos."
+
+"Well! Well! And so you have found out that they are not all the same
+kind? How many kinds have you learned about, pray?"
+
+Donald took Sandy's banter in good part.
+
+"You needn't laugh, Sandy," he said. "Lots and lots of our sheep are
+Merinos, aren't they?"
+
+"Aye, laddie. Merinos are a good sheep for wool-growing. They are no so
+bonny--having a wrinkled skin and wool on their faces; they are small,
+too. But their coat is fine and long, and they are kindly. The American
+Merinos are the best range sheep we have, because they are so hardy and
+stay together so well. Some sheep scatter. It seems to be in their blood
+to wander about. Of course you can't take sheep like that on the range.
+They would be all over the state."
+
+"I should think it would be a great bother to cut the wool from a Merino
+when he is so wrinkly," suggested Donald thoughtfully.
+
+"You show your wit--it is a bother. It takes much longer to clip them
+than it does a smooth-skinned sheep. Besides, their fleece is heavy, for
+it contains a great deal of oil--or as we call it, yolk. But have done
+with Merinos. What others did you learn about?"
+
+"One of the herders told me about the Delaine Merinos and showed me the
+long parallel fibers in their wool; he also pointed out a French Merino,
+or--or--a----"
+
+"Rambouillet!" laughed Sandy. "I was waiting to hear you twist your
+tongue around that word. It took me full a week to learn to say it, and
+even now I never say it in a hurry. We have many a French Merino here;
+they belong, though, to quite a different family from the other Merinos.
+You will find them a much larger sheep, and their wool coarse fibered.
+They are great eaters, these French Merinos."
+
+"Like me!" cried Donald.
+
+"Verra like you!" agreed Sandy. "But it is no so easy filling them up.
+Why, they will eat a whole hillside in no time. They can beat you, too,
+on staying out in all sorts of weather. Here in Idaho we generally have
+fairly mild winters, so our sheep can be out all the year round. We have
+a few shacks down in the valley where we can shelter them if we have
+cold rains during the season. They feed down there along the river,
+eating sage-brush and dried hay from fall until spring. It is often
+scant picking, but if it is too scant we give them grain, alfalfa hay,
+or sometimes pumpkins."
+
+"Why, I never dreamed they stayed out all winter!" ejaculated Donald,
+opening his eyes.
+
+"In a state where it is as mild as this one they can. Then in the spring
+when the shearing, dipping, and all is done, we start for the range. We
+never go, though, until the sun has baked the grass a while, for if the
+herd crops too early the sheep pull at the new shoots that are just
+taking hold in the soil and up they come--roots and all. Then in future
+you will have no grass--just bare ground. Very early grass is bad for
+sheep, too."
+
+"What do people do where there are no ranges, Sandy?"
+
+"Their sheep are kept in great fenced-in pastures and fed from troughs
+or feeding racks. They have alfalfa hay, turnips, rape, kale, corn,
+pumpkins and grain. The range sheep are the hardiest, though. Sheep were
+made to climb and scramble over rocky places, and they are stronger and
+healthier for doing it."
+
+"I'd rather be a range sheep!" declared Donald.
+
+"And I!" agreed Sandy promptly. "But you're no through telling me about
+the sorts of sheep you learned about. Didn't anybody tell you about the
+Cotswolds?"
+
+Donald shook his head.
+
+"Oh, that's a sad pity. They are such big, grand fellows with their
+white faces and white legs. And dinna forget the Lincolns. You will have
+no trouble in knowing a Lincoln. They are the heaviest sheep we have,
+and their wool is long. A Lincoln is handsome as a painting; in fact I'd
+far rather have one than some of the paintings I've seen. You want to
+get sight of one when its fleece is full! We have a scattering, too, of
+Leicesters and Dorset Horns, but the Dorsets are such fighters that I
+dinna care much for them. They will even attack the dogs."
+
+"I never heard of sheep doing that!"
+
+"Now and again they will, but not often."
+
+Sandy paused and began to whistle softly to himself.
+
+"Are--are those all the kinds of sheep, Sandy?" ventured Donald at last,
+after he had waited for some time and there seemed to be no prospect of
+Sandy coming to the end of his tune.
+
+"All! Hear the lad! All! Indeed and that's not all! There are Cheviots
+from the English and Scotch hill country. You've had a cheviot suit,
+mayhap. Yes? Well, that's where you got it. Then there is the Tunis and
+the Persian. California, Nevada, and Texas raise Persians. They are a
+fat-tailed sheep. We never went in for them here. In England you will
+find a host of other sorts of sheep that are raised on the English
+Downs; most of them are short-haired and are raised not so much for
+their wool as for their mutton. There are Southdowns, Hampshire Downs,
+Sussex, Oxfords, Shropshire Downs, and the Dorset Horns. We always like
+some Shropshires in our herd."
+
+"Oh, Sandy," groaned Donald with a wry smile, "I never, never can
+remember all these kinds."
+
+"Dinna shed tears about it, laddie. The wool will keep growing on their
+backs just the same. But it's likely that you'll never again be thinking
+that a sheep is just a sheep!"
+
+"Indeed I shan't!"
+
+"As for myself," went on Sandy, "I like all kinds; I like the smell of
+them, and being with them on the range. You'll like the range, too, if
+your father lets you go. You'll like the big sky, the crisp air, and the
+peace of it."
+
+"I hope he will let me go."
+
+"Dinna fear! We will 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 Ranch myself."
+
+Thornton drew a quick breath.
+
+It was evident that he was amazed and none too well pleased.
+
+"It is hard work, sir--especially when you are not used to it."
+
+"I am accustomed to hard work."
+
+"The men will take advantage of you, sir--if I may be so bold as to say
+so. They know you were not brought up to sheeping. They will impose on
+you and shirk their duties."
+
+"I am not afraid, Thornton," was the calm reply. "I have had a chance to
+test what they would do when they were dipping the sheep. It was as
+thorough a piece of work as one would wish to see done, and went
+smoothly as a sled in iced ruts. I never saw better team-work. Sandy
+directed things most ably."
+
+"Sandy does well enough at times," was Thornton's grudging answer, "but
+you are depending on him too much. You may regret it later."
+
+"I doubt it."
+
+Thornton turned.
+
+"Wait and see," was his curt reply.
+
+After he had gone out Donald rose and came to his father's side.
+
+"Thornton doesn't like Sandy, father."
+
+"I am afraid he doesn't, Don."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Think of a reason."
+
+"Because Sandy is the son of Old Angus--is it that?"
+
+"Possibly," responded Mr. Clark, "and yet I think it is not wholly
+that."
+
+"Because Sandy is so good?"
+
+"Perhaps."
+
+"Because we both like Sandy so much?" persisted the boy.
+
+"I shouldn't wonder."
+
+"Well, I don't see how any one could help liking Sandy! He is the best
+man on the place. He knows so much, and is so full of fun, father! And
+he is so kind to his dogs and to the sheep! Why, I believe he loves
+every sheep on Crescent Ranch."
+
+"I am sure of it."
+
+There was a silence.
+
+"Father," burst out Donald when he could bear the silence no longer, "I
+believe Thornton wants you to appoint him manager of our ranch."
+
+Mr. Clark's face lighted with pleasure.
+
+"I am glad to hear you call it our ranch, Don," he said. "I want you to
+grow up and go to college and afterward I wish you to choose some useful
+work in the world. Whatever honorable thing you elect to do I shall
+gladly help you to carry out. But if it happened--not that I should ever
+urge it--but if it happened that by and by you wanted to take part of
+the care of this ranch on your shoulders it would make me very glad."
+
+"I am sure I should like to," cried Donald impulsively.
+
+"No, no," his father responded, shaking his head. "Do not give your
+word so thoughtlessly. It is a serious matter to choose what you will do
+in life. You must take a long 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 come in and speak to you and Donald, Mr. Clark?"
+
+Mr. Clark laid down his book. He always enjoyed a talk with Sandy.
+
+"Certainly," he answered. "Come up by the fire, Sandy. The chilly
+evenings still hang on, don't they?"
+
+"They do so. I'm thinking, Mr. Clark, that now Thornton is back again it
+is time I started for the range. Some of the herders have gone already,
+as you know; the rest will be off to-morrow. I ought to be getting under
+way soon if I want to land my flock in high, cool pasturage before the
+heat comes."
+
+"Very true, Sandy. I have kept you behind because your aid in starting
+off the wagons and the other herders was invaluable. But, as you say,
+there is no need to detain you longer. How soon could you get away?"
+
+"I could start to-morrow if I had my permit."
+
+"How is that?"
+
+"As you remember, sir, we must have permits to graze on the range. You
+have paid enough money to the government to realize that."
+
+"Yes, indeed. And I never grudge the money, either."
+
+"What are permits, Sandy?" put in Donald eagerly.
+
+"Well, laddie, long ago people who raised horses and sheep wandered over
+all the mountainsides with their herds, and fed them wherever grass was
+plenty. It was free land. Anybody could graze there. It was a fine thing
+for a man with thousands of sheep not to have to pay a cent for their
+food, wasn't it?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"You would have thought there would have been enough for everybody to
+feed their stock peaceably, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Yes, indeed!"
+
+"Well now, it didn't work out so at all. The sheepmen and the cattlemen
+came to actual war. The cattlemen declared that their herds would not
+graze where the sheep had been because of some queer odor the sheep left
+behind them; they argued, moreover, that sheep gnawed the grass off so
+close to the roots that they destroyed the crop and left barren land.
+The sheepmen, on the other hand, complained because the cattle--loving
+to stand in the water--waded into the water-holes and spoiled them. Each
+faction tried to crowd the other off the range. Dreadful things
+happened. Vaqueros, or cowboys, would dash on horseback right into the
+midst of a flock and scatter the sheep in every direction. Often many of
+the sheep fled into the hills and their owners never could find them
+again. Or sometimes the cowboys would drive the sheep ahead of them over
+high precipices. Cattlemen, being on horseback, had a great scorn for
+sheep-herders, who were obliged to trail their flocks on foot. The feud
+between the two varieties of stock-raisers became worse and worse."
+
+Donald listened breathlessly.
+
+"More men took up stock-raising as time went on, and in consequence more
+herds were turned onto the range. Soon the results began to show. The
+young trees of the forest lands were trampled down, or nibbled and
+destroyed; water-holes, which the settlers had used as their water
+supply, began to be polluted; homesteaders, who had built houses and
+settled in the sheep-raising districts, were driven off the range and
+had no place where they could be sure of feeding their flocks. The worst
+evil, though, was that one band of sheep after another would feed in the
+same spot. The first flock would nip off the top of the grass; the next
+flock had to eat it closer in order to get food enough; and when the
+last flocks came they burrowed into the earth with their sharp noses and
+dug the grass up by the roots. Whole stretches of land that had once
+been green and beautiful were left bare so that nothing would grow on
+them for years and years. Cattle do not eat the turf so close as that,
+and I do not wonder that the vaqueros complained, do you?"
+
+"I should think they would have!" agreed Donald heartily.
+
+"Then, too, the sheep have small, sharp hoofs, you know; these hoofs cut
+through the soil so that if many sheep travel over a place they grind
+the earth to powder. Well, that is just what happened. The sheep left
+the hillsides nothing but patches of brown dust. Things went on from bad
+to worse until our government stepped in."
+
+Donald kept his eyes intently on Sandy's face.
+
+"What could our government do?" he asked earnestly.
+
+"Well, it could do a good many things, and it did. First, it took about
+160,000,000 acres of land as National Forests. It was no longer free
+pasture. It belonged to the United States."
+
+"I should think the herders would have been pretty cross about that!"
+
+"They were. You can see just how they felt. They made their living by
+raising stock, and to be deprived of pasturage angered them. At first
+the government intended to stop all herds from feeding in these National
+Reserves. They thought it was time to protect the forests that we might
+not have floods, landslides, and forest fires. They called it conserving
+the forests. Afterward, though, they considered that the western people
+made their living by raising cattle and sheep, and they worked out a
+plan whereby every owner who wanted to graze on the range should pay a
+certain sum to the United States Government for a permit, and should be
+allotted a particular pasture for his herd. The only restriction was
+that if an owner was granted a permit he must promise to obey the rules
+of the range. It was a wise and just arrangement. Only a certain number
+of sheep are now allowed to graze on a given area; there is therefore
+plenty of grass and no need for the flocks to eat the herbage down close
+and destroy it. The money for the permits, in the meantime, goes to the
+government, and enriches the United States treasury. Much of this money
+is spent in paying men to work on the range and better the conditions
+there, so really it comes back to the people who pay it."
+
+"I understand," Donald replied quickly, when Sandy paused for breath.
+"It is very interesting isn't it, father? But I do not see how they can
+prevent herders who have no permits from grazing on the range."
+
+"They ought not to have to prevent them!" answered Sandy, hotly. "The
+herders ought to be decent enough to obey the law. If you are granted a
+favor you ought to be a gentleman in accepting it. Now I'm born of
+generations of shepherds--poor country folk they were, too; but my
+people ever had a sense of honor--they were gentlemen."
+
+Sandy drew himself up and threw back his head as he spoke the words.
+
+"I cannot imagine a McCulloch being anything but a gentleman, Sandy,"
+said Mr. Clark, who had been listening carefully to Sandy's story of the
+range.
+
+Sandy was pleased.
+
+"It's many would not think so, Mr. Clark," he replied, as he stretched
+out his rough, brown hands.
+
+"One can tell nothing from hands," laughed Mr. Clark. "The heart is the
+thing that tells the tale. A clean, honest heart makes a gentleman, and
+no one is a gentleman without it."
+
+"But you are not telling me how they kept the herders without permits
+off the range," put in Donald mischievously.
+
+"I almost forgot. The question always ruffles me. You did a bad thing to
+stir me up about it. I'll tell you. The United States had to put
+soldiers on the range--think of it--soldiers to protect the government
+from its own people! And when the government was working to help those
+very people, too. They called these soldiers rangers. It was their duty
+to patrol the dividing line of the National Reserves. Every herder who
+passed in must show his permit and let the ranger see that he had with
+him no more sheep than he ought to have. That was fair, wasn't it?"
+
+"Perfectly!" nodded Donald.
+
+"Alack! It is a sad thing that there are people in the world who do not
+love their country well enough to obey her laws. If they are too stupid
+to see the laws are for their good why can't they trust the government?
+Here the government was going to give the herders better pastures and
+keep their flocks from being molested in them. Wouldn't you think a man
+with a grain of sense would see the wisdom of the plan!" Sandy's temper
+began to rise once more. "But no! The herders just felt the rangers who
+had been stationed to carry out the laws were enemies who had taken away
+their freedom. So when the rangers did not see them they tried every way
+to steal into the reserves without permits. Two men would start with
+their flocks; one would take the attention of the ranger by showing his
+permit and while the ranger was busy with him the other man would slide
+into the reserve far down the line where he was not noticed."
+
+"What a mean trick!" cried Donald. "And what if the ranger happened to
+see him?"
+
+"Oh, he would gallop after him and ride into his flock, scattering it
+every which way as he tried to drive the sheep out of the reserve. Often
+the herder would lose hundreds of them."
+
+"Served him right!"
+
+"That's what I think, too," grinned Sandy. "The like are not all dead
+yet either--worse luck! And this brings me back to the matter of my
+permit, Mr. Clark. We are two permits short, sir. The new herds that
+came from Kansas City are not counted into our old rating. Did you think
+of that? Having more sheep this year we must pay in more money. You
+didn't happen to remember, did you, to get permits for those extra
+flocks?"
+
+"No, Sandy, I didn't; but of course Thornton has attended to it. See,
+here he comes. We will ask him. Thornton," he called, as the big fellow
+passed the door, "what are we going to do about permits for the new
+herds? They are not included in the tax we now pay."
+
+"Don't you worry about more permits, Mr. Clark. I can save you a penny
+on that," declared Thornton with a knowing wink. "You pay the government
+enough as it is. Leave it to me, sir. I'll see that the herds get into
+the range all right, and that it costs you no more. When Sandy goes in
+he can talk with the ranger. All the rangers know him and they never
+will suspect him. In the meantime Owen can take the Kansas City herd and
+slip in further down the line. There is no danger of our being caught.
+Many a herder has done it and had no trouble."
+
+"There will be no sliding sheep into the reserves without permits while
+I own Crescent Ranch, Thornton," said Mr. Clark sternly. "We will pay
+what we owe the government or we will keep fewer sheep."
+
+"I was only trying to save you money, sir," Thornton hastened to
+explain.
+
+"You took a very poor method to do it," was Mr. Clark's cold reply. "The
+money part of wool-growing is not your care. You are here to raise sheep
+in conformity to the laws of your country."
+
+"A mighty poor set of laws they are," grumbled Thornton sullenly.
+
+"You may not like them, but they are for your good nevertheless, and
+since you are an American it is up to you to obey them. I keep no man in
+my employ who is not--before everything else--a good citizen."
+
+Thornton flushed, but made no reply.
+
+Then darting an angry glance at Sandy from beneath his shaggy brows, he
+left the room.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+DONALD'S FIRST ADVENTURE ON THE RANGE
+
+
+After Donald went to bed that night Mr. Clark and Sandy had a long talk
+and the next morning when Donald came to breakfast the first question
+his father asked was:
+
+"How would you like to start for the range with Sandy, son, when the
+permits come?"
+
+"Oh, father! Will you really let me? I have wanted so much to go! I am a
+good walker, you know, and I am used to camping. Besides, I should like
+to be with Sandy," he added shyly.
+
+"I am convinced that you could be with no better young fellow in the
+world, Don, than to be with Sandy McCulloch," replied Mr. Clark warmly.
+"Yes, I am going to let you go. I want you to help Sandy, however, all
+that you can. You must not be an idler and make extra trouble. You must
+take hold and do part of the work if you go. Do not think," he added
+kindly, "that I consider you a lazy lad, for you are far from it. You
+have been a great help on the ranch since you came. I have not been
+ignorant of many thoughtful things that you have been doing to help. I
+simply wish to remind you that on the range Sandy will have all he can
+do. In the midst of your pleasure do not forget your obligation to be
+useful. If you keep your eyes open you will see things that you can do,
+just as you have seen them here. You will have a thoroughly good time on
+the range, and I am glad to have you go. A little later I may want you
+to come back to the ranch to help me. You will be willing to do that,
+won't you?"
+
+"Of course, father, I'll come whenever you send for me!" was the instant
+response. "But what are you going to do while I am gone? Can't you come
+too?"
+
+"I'm afraid not. I do not see how I can leave things here just now.
+Provisions must be portioned out and sent to the central camps. Then
+there are many repairs to be made and I must attend to those. I wish,
+also, to look over the books while I am here. You see I have plenty to
+do. When I get my work done I may ride up into the hills and join you
+and Sandy."
+
+"I wish you would," answered Donald. Then he added thoughtfully:
+"Father, if I stayed and helped you, could you get away any sooner?"
+
+The older man smiled at the boy.
+
+"That is generous of you, Donald boy. I appreciate it. No, I do not see
+how you could help me by remaining. You go with Sandy and when I need
+you I will send for you. In the meantime Thornton and I will get on very
+well here."
+
+"Thornton! Isn't he going to the range with one of the new herds?"
+
+"Not at present. There is a great deal of work to be done here. I prefer
+to keep him to help me."
+
+"I wish you would have somebody else to help you and let Thornton take
+the herd, father."
+
+"I think he is better here."
+
+"Very well. You know best," declared Donald. "Shall you really feel all
+right if I go with Sandy?"
+
+"Yes, indeed. I want you to learn every phase of ranch life that you
+can. Then if anything ever decided you to take up wool-growing as a
+business you would come to it with a knowledge I never had. It would be
+far more interesting on that account. If, on the other hand, you decided
+on some other work in life you at least would have learned something of
+one of the great industries of our country and would be a broader-minded
+citizen in consequence."
+
+"I am sure I should, father. Why, ever since I have seen how big America
+is I am lots prouder that I am an American."
+
+His father smiled at his enthusiasm, then added gently:
+
+"Yes, but size is not everything. It is what a country is doing, or
+trying to do, to better the conditions of her people that makes her
+truly great. You know some of the things that are done to make life
+happy, healthful, and comfortable for those who live in our cities. Now
+go out on the range. Look about you. See all that thoughtful, far-seeing
+men are doing to protect our forests, hillsides, streams; see how our
+government is entering into the life of those who live not in cities but
+on farms and ranches. You will find our country is doing much on the
+range beside merely issuing permits for us to graze there."
+
+"What sort of things?"
+
+"Sandy knows; he'll show you. In spite of the fact that he was born a
+Scotchman he is as good an American as I know. He appreciates the
+benefits of this wonderful land enough to desire to be a helpful,
+law-abiding citizen. He does not accept all the advantages America
+offers without giving something in return, you see."
+
+"Sandy is too proud to take everything for nothing, father."
+
+"He is also too honest, son. Now go and get your camping traps together.
+I expect by afternoon to have a telegram that will answer in place of
+permits until they can be mailed to us. As soon as they come you and
+Sandy can start off; and in case they do not come to-day I can send them
+after you by a mounted messenger. So I think you'd better set out
+anyway. Wear your tramping shoes and carry your sleeping-bag. You better
+ask Sandy if there is anything else he wants you to take."
+
+Donald needed no second bidding.
+
+He was in the highest of spirits.
+
+An hour later and he had said good-bye to his father and Thornton, and
+was on his way to the range with Sandy McCulloch. At their backs a band
+of about two thousand sheep ambled along, the four dogs, Robin, Prince
+Charlie, Colin, and Hector, dashing in and out among them to keep the
+stragglers well in the path.
+
+The trail Sandy was following led across the open fields and ascending
+gradually, made for the chain of low hills faintly outlined in the
+far-away blue haze. Beyond these hills loomed more distant mountains,
+their tops capped with snow. These mountains, Sandy told Donald, were
+the foot-hills of the Rockies.
+
+It was quite evident that Sandy was now in his element. He swung along
+with slow but steady gait, carrying his pack easily and swinging his
+staff. His eye was alert for every movement of the flock. Now he would
+turn and draw some straying creature into place by putting his crook
+around one of its back legs. Sometimes he would motion the dogs to drive
+the herd along faster.
+
+To an eastern-bred lad who had lived all his life in a city the scene
+was wonderfully novel. The great blue stretch of sky seemed endless. How
+still the country was! Had it not been for the muffled tramp of hoofs,
+the low bleating of the herd, the flat-toned note of the sheep-bells,
+there would not have been a sound. The quiet of the day cast its spell
+everywhere. Sandy, who was usually chary enough of his words, preserved
+even a stricter silence. Although his lips were parted with a contented
+smile, only once did he venture to break the quiet and that was when he
+softly hummed a bar or two of "There Were Hundred Pipers"--a favorite
+song of his.
+
+At last Donald, who was bubbling over with questions, could bear it no
+longer.
+
+"Are you always so quiet, Sandy, when you go to the range?" he asked.
+
+The Scotchman roused himself.
+
+"Why, laddie, I was almost forgetting you were here! Aye, being with a
+flock is a quiet life. You have nobody to talk to on the range--nobody
+except the dogs; so you fall into the way of thinking a heap and saying
+but little. I like it. Some herders, though, find it a hard sort of
+existence. Many a man has sat alone day after day on the range, watching
+the sheep work their way in and out of the flock until in his sleep he
+could picture that sea of gray and white moving, moving, moving! It was
+always before him, sleeping or waking. It is a bad thing for a shepherd
+to get into that state of mind. We call it getting locoed."
+
+"What does that mean?"
+
+"You must know that on the hills grows a weed called loco-weed.
+Sometimes the sheep find and eat it, and it makes them dull and
+stupid--you know how you feel when you take gas to have your teeth
+pulled. Yes? Well, it's like that. We never let the herd get it if we
+can help it, and if they do we drive them away from it. They will go
+right back again, too, and eat more if you do not watch them. That's
+what loco-weed is."
+
+"And the shepherds?"
+
+"When a man gets dull and stupid by being alone so much, and sees sheep
+all the time--even when his eyes are shut--the best thing he can do is
+to leave the range. Some folks can stand being alone, others can't. Why,
+I have known of herders being alone until they actually wouldn't
+talk--they couldn't. They didn't want to speak or be spoken to and were
+ready to shoot any one who came upon them on the range and disturbed
+them. Once I knew of a herder leaving a ranch because the boss said
+good-morning to him. He complained that things were getting too
+sociable."
+
+"I should think the herders would like to see people when they are alone
+so much."
+
+"Aye. Wouldn't you! But no. In Wyoming there is a law that no herder
+shall be sent out alone to tend flocks; men must go in pairs. More than
+that they must have little traveling libraries of a few books. The
+reason for that is to prevent them from sitting with their eyes fixed
+vacantly on the moving sheep all the time. It is a good law. Some time,
+likely, they will have it in all the states."
+
+"I mean to tell father about it. We could do that at our ranch easily,"
+said Donald. "Do you get lonely on the range, Sandy?"
+
+"Nay, nay, laddie. It is many a year that I have been alone on the
+hills. I love it. There is always plenty to do. Sometimes I play tunes
+on my harmonica. Again I'll spend weeks carving flowers and figures on a
+staff. Then I have my dogs, and they are rare company. I sleep a good
+part of the day, you know, and watch the flock at night."
+
+"But I should think you would sleep at night."
+
+"I couldn't do that."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"Because there is more danger to the sheep at night. It is then that the
+wild creatures steal down and attack the herds."
+
+"Wild creatures?"
+
+"Bears, bob-cats, cougars, and coyotes."
+
+"On the range!" cried Donald.
+
+"Where else?"
+
+"But I never thought of such animals being on the range!" murmured the
+boy.
+
+Sandy flashed him a smile.
+
+"You're no in a city park here, laddie," he observed emphatically.
+"There are all sorts of prowling creatures abroad at night. They are not
+after us--never fear. It is the poor, helpless sheep they are after."
+
+"Do you suppose, Sandy, that I shall see a bear?" asked Donald, his eyes
+sparkling.
+
+"Verra likely. For your sake I hope you may; for the sake of the herd I
+hope not. I have seen many on the range and have shot not a few. Down at
+the ranch I have a long chain made of bears' claws."
+
+Donald's eyes opened wider and wider.
+
+"I'd like to see a bear," cried he. "Just see him, you know--not have
+him hurt the sheep."
+
+"Mayhap you'll get your wish."
+
+Thus--now talking, now lapsing into big, silent pauses, Donald and Sandy
+jogged on. At sundown they stopped for the night near a water-hole and
+here the flock was refreshed by a draught from a clear mountain stream.
+Then Sandy unpacked his saucepans, built a fire, and fried bacon which
+he laid--smoking hot--between two slices of bread. Was ever a meal so
+delicious, Donald wondered! Supper finished, the little portable tent
+was set up, more wood heaped on the fire, and the camp pitched for the
+night. Donald was tired out. After the sheep were bedded down around
+them, he crept only too gladly into his sleeping-bag and was soon
+oblivious of the range, the herd, and even Sandy himself.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he awoke it was with a sense of being cramped within a small space.
+He opened his eyes. It took him a few moments to collect his wits and
+remember where he was. Ah, yes! Here was the little low tent over his
+head, and just outside blinked the embers of the fire where he and Sandy
+had cooked their supper.
+
+[Illustration: THEY STOPPED FOR THE NIGHT]
+
+He sat up softly and peered out into the night.
+
+The country was flooded with moonlight in the brilliancy of which the
+ridges of the far-off hills stood out clearly; even the pool in the
+midst of the pasture caught the radiance and gleamed like a mirror. But
+amid all the beauty a subtle feeling of solitude oppressed him. It
+seemed as if he was the only being in the whole world.
+
+Further out he leaned.
+
+Then he started suddenly.
+
+All that great sea of human creatures that had surrounded him when he
+went to sleep had vanished!
+
+Not a sheep was to be seen.
+
+Thoroughly alarmed, he turned.
+
+"Sandy!" he called. "Sandy!"
+
+There was no reply.
+
+With growing apprehension he thrust out his hand in the direction where
+the herder had been lying.
+
+The chill of the cold earth met his touch.
+
+Terrified he sprang to his feet and bent down in the darkness.
+
+There was no one with him in the tent! Sandy and the herd were gone!
+
+For a while Donald stood very still. He was really alone, then--alone,
+miles from the home ranch, and not knowing the way back again! This was
+his first thought. The next was of Sandy.
+
+All that Thornton had hinted flashed into his mind. Sandy was not to be
+trusted, Thornton had told his father. If they placed any dependence on
+the young Scotchman they would some time regret it.
+
+Had Sandy deceived him?
+
+What possible object could he have, Donald asked himself, in so quietly
+departing with the sheep and leaving him behind?
+
+At least he had left the tent.
+
+Had he taken the food and rifles with him?
+
+With beating heart Donald scrambled for his match-box and made a light.
+
+No, there was the knapsack of provisions, the saucepan, the coffee-pot!
+In the corner, too, stood his own rifle. But Sandy's rifle was missing.
+
+Donald reflected a moment.
+
+Sandy must be coming back. Ah, that was it! But where had he gone? Why
+should he rise up in the middle of the night, take the flock and dogs,
+and steal off in this noiseless fashion? The boy could not solve the
+enigma.
+
+For the present, at least, there was nothing to be done. He glanced at
+his watch. It was three o'clock. He turned into his sleeping-bag again,
+having first taken the precaution to put his rifle within easy reach.
+Yet try as he would he could not sleep. His eyes stared, broad awake, at
+the shadowy dome of the tent. He wished it was day.
+
+As he lay there straining his ears for the cadence of approaching
+herd-bells he was conscious of a muffled sound--a dull, soft footfall,
+as if some one was loitering stealthily about the tent. He heard it
+again. Then he could distinctly hear a sniffing at the corner of the
+tent near which the provisions lay.
+
+Donald's heart leaped to his throat.
+
+He could feel the blood pounding under his ears.
+
+Who was coming so near with that velvety tread?
+
+Noiselessly he wriggled out of his sleeping-bag and stood behind the
+flap of the tent, rifle in hand. Then he heard the unmistakable panting
+of some heavy creature--some creature so close to him that he could
+detect the rhythm of every breath it drew. Shaking in every limb he
+stole a look outside. Just beside the opening of his shelter he could
+see, clearly defined in the moonlight, a thick, dark shadow outlined on
+the grass. It was cast by some beast that was halting near the doorway.
+
+In another second it would be upon him.
+
+The boy caught his breath.
+
+There was no time to think.
+
+Raising his rifle, he fired at the great dark mass. Again he fired!
+
+Had he struck the mark?
+
+Another instant would tell.
+
+The creature would either roll over wounded, or would spring upon him.
+
+He jammed back the trigger of his rifle. The tremor that had swept over
+him at first now left his hand. His arm was perfectly steady, his blood
+swinging in quick throbs through his body. He fired a third time.
+
+There was a heavy thud, the rolling of a black mass on the ground, a
+gasp, a growl! Then all was quiet.
+
+Still Donald dared not take any chances. He poured another round of shot
+into his victim. It did not move.
+
+Then cautiously he crept outside, his rifle tight in his grasp.
+
+There on the ground a shaggy object lay motionless.
+
+He went nearer.
+
+Then he gave a shout of astonishment.
+
+It was a bear!
+
+He had shot a bear--he, Donald Clark, alone and unaided, had really shot
+a bear! What a story to tell his father; and Sandy, too; and the fellows
+at home!
+
+Then, for the first time, he was conscious of a trembling in his arms.
+His knees felt strangely weak. Now that the excitement was over he
+realized that he wanted to sit down. His rifle slipped from his fingers
+and he dropped to the turf. There he rested in a dazed sort of way and
+reviewed the tragedy. Suppose he had not been awake? Suppose the bear
+had come into the tent while he lay there asleep and unarmed? In his
+heart he felt very grateful for his escape.
+
+Then there followed a disquieting thought--suppose there were other
+bears! He had often read of their coming in groups of fives and sixes.
+It was no time for him to sit limply on the ground. He caught up his
+rifle and recharged its empty chambers. Then before the tent door he sat
+until sunrise, anxiously scanning the dim pasture-land and the distant
+rocky fastnesses. It seemed as if the day would never come.
+
+Presently across the intervale he caught the faint tinkle of herd-bells.
+Over the brim of rolling green just ahead of him came the flock, Sandy
+leading them, and the collies nipping at their heels. The herder strode
+rapidly forward, waving his sombrero as he came. Donald ran to meet
+him.
+
+"Are you safe and sound, laddie?" called Sandy when he got within
+shouting distance. "I have had a thousand minds about you--whether I
+ought not to have waked you, tired as you were, and taken you with me;
+or whether it was better to let you sleep. You see when the full moon
+rose the sheep set out grazing. It's a trick they have. Many a time they
+have done it; when they once set out no power on earth will stop them.
+So the dogs and I had to go along too. I reckoned you would sleep until
+we got back. The herd went farther, though, than I thought they would. I
+had great trouble rounding them up."
+
+As he talked they neared the camp where Sandy's keen eye took in at a
+glance every detail of the scene before him. Then he looked sharply at
+Donald. Under the thick tan the boy could see him pale. His lips became
+livid.
+
+"Donald, lad, you are not hurt?" he cried, motioning to the bear that
+lay stretched on the grass.
+
+"No, Sandy, not a bit. Truly I'm not. See! Isn't he a big one?"
+
+"He is many a size too big for a boy like you to be fighting alone. I
+was a blind idiot to leave you behind me. Thank the good Lord you got
+off without a scratch. When I think of what might have come to you----!
+The next time I'll no go grazing without you, Don. But who would have
+thought of a bear venturing into these lowlands! He must have been very
+hungry."
+
+Later Donald had to relate every part of his adventure, and they skinned
+the black bear and spread his hide out in the sun.
+
+"His coat is thicker than that of most bears at this season of the year.
+It will make a bonny rug for your father's office, Don. When the
+camp-tender comes we will send it back by him to the home ranch.
+Thornton can get it cured for you at Glen City and it will be a sightly
+present for your father. You are a son worth having!"
+
+"I want to be, Sandy."
+
+"Dinna bother your head. I've seen full a dozen lads worse than you!"
+was the grim reply.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A NARROW ESCAPE
+
+
+It was not long before Donald felt almost as at home in the hill country
+as did Sandy himself. They pitched camp and stayed in one place until
+the grazing began to get scarce; then they "pulled up" and tramped on.
+Sandy knew the region well and was therefore seldom at a loss to find
+water-holes. During the night they watched the flock, and as soon as the
+herd had fed in the morning and was ready to come to rest they left the
+dogs on guard and slept. Donald usually slept soundly, for the fresh air
+and exercise kept him in perfect health. Sandy, on the other hand,
+slept with one eye open--or one ear open--the boy could never quite
+decide which it was. But the result was the same; by some mysterious
+means Sandy was always conscious of every move of his flock.
+
+Donald never tired of watching the young Scotchman. What a picture he
+was in his flannel blouse, open at the throat; his baggy trousers and
+sheepskin belt; his sombrero with its band of Mexican leather; and the
+field-glasses slung over his shoulder! From these glasses, his rifle,
+and his crook he was seldom parted. His great knuckles, broad from the
+grasp of his staff, were like iron; and his lithe, wiry body was never
+weary. And yet with all his strength Sandy was the gentlest of men with
+his sheep.
+
+To his dogs he was a god! Still, with all their devotion, the collies
+evidently understood that the sheep were their first care and they never
+deserted their watch to accompany Sandy when he went on a hunt for
+water-holes or more abundant feeding grounds. They were wonderfully
+intelligent animals--these collies. Donald constantly marveled at their
+cleverness. They were quick in singling out the slow or wayward sheep
+and would bite their heels to hurry them along. They also recognized the
+leaders and it was to them that they communicated the directions Sandy
+gave them. Yet Sandy seldom spoke to his dogs. A motion of his arm and
+they would spring forward and follow out his wish. Only when he
+commanded it did they bark. With their drooping, bushy tails and sharp
+noses they reminded Donald far more of wolves than dogs. Sandy was kind
+to all of them, but it was Robin and Prince Charlie of which he was most
+fond. They had been bred from dogs his father had brought from the Old
+Country, he explained to Donald. There were few persons in the world for
+whom he cared so much. Once when Robin had been lost on the range the
+herder had traveled the hills three whole days to find him.
+
+"What makes shepherd dogs so different from other dogs, Sandy?" asked
+Donald one day.
+
+"Some of it is in their blood. They seem to want to herd sheep--they
+can't help it. Then some of the credit of a fine sheep dog is due to
+his training. Why, I was months working over Robin and the Prince. I had
+them with goats and sheep from the time they were born. As soon as they
+were big enough I began teaching them to come when I called 'em. A good
+dog has got to learn to come to you when you speak. If he has done wrong
+he has got to come and be punished. Some dogs will run away when they
+see that you have caught them doing the wrong thing. You cannot let a
+sheep dog do that."
+
+"But how do you train them so they won't?"
+
+"I will tell you. It seems a heartless sort of way, but I had to do it.
+I tied them with a long piece of rope; then I called them. As soon as
+they came I spanked them good and hard, and afterward I'd pat them and
+give them a scrap of meat. They understood in time. They would come
+anyway--sure thing. If I whacked 'em it was all the same to them. By and
+by when they got so they would mind, I didn't have to whack 'em, and now
+it is seldom I lay hand to 'em. It was no pleasure to me, I can tell
+you, and I quit it just as soon as I felt sure they would walk up like
+gentlemen whenever I spoke, no matter if they knew beforehand that they
+were to be whipped. You can see why this had to be, Don. Of course you
+know such dogs have the nature of wolves. In fact the better the
+shepherd dog, the more like a wolf he is. Now a wolf is a born enemy of
+sheep. Sometimes the wolf in a shepherd dog will get the better of him
+and he will turn about and kill the lambs instead of guarding them. If a
+sheep-dog is once a killer he has to die. You can never be sure of him
+again. So you cannot turn a dog loose on the range unless he will come
+to you when you speak."
+
+"I suppose he might start killing sheep and you would not be able to get
+control of him," ventured Donald, much interested.
+
+"That is just it! He must come even if he knows he is to be shot the
+next minute. There is no safety for the sheep unless it is so. My dogs
+would come to me willy-nilly."
+
+"Isn't it wonderful?"
+
+"Yes, unless you have been months and months, as I was, getting them to
+do it; and even then it is rather wonderful. But a thing quite as
+wonderful as that is that they know every sheep in the flock. Let a ewe
+from another fold come in and they will scent her quick as lightning.
+And there is something else they will do: they understand well as
+ourselves that sheep will walk right over ledges and into pits, one
+after another; so the collies will stand guard at the edges of such
+places and warn 'em off. What is that but human, I ask you?"
+
+Donald nodded.
+
+"The men down at Crescent say," went on Sandy smiling broadly, "that I
+am daffy about dogs--my own dogs most of all. Well, haven't I cause?
+There is not a shepherd in this part of the country but would swap his
+collies for mine; or they'd buy them. I've been offered many a dollar
+for the two. But I'm no swapping my dogs, nor selling them, either!
+Sometimes, you know, we fat up sheep for the market and sell them as
+muttons. We then have to get the sheep into cars to send them off and it
+is no so easy if they haven't the mind to go. Well, you should see
+Robin and the Prince at the job. They will run right along the backs of
+the herd, biting the necks of the leaders until they get them aimed
+where they want 'em to go; then they'll nip the heels of the others till
+they march up the planks into the cars neat as a line of soldiers. Or
+they will drive a flock onto a boat the same way. It is a great thing to
+get dogs that can do that. It takes more wit than a man has. Once a
+sheep-raiser from California saw Robin down at Glen City getting a lot
+of sheep off to Chicago on the train and he was hot for having him. He
+offered me into the hundreds if I would let him take the collie back
+with him."
+
+"And you wouldn't sell?"
+
+"The money ain't coined would tempt me to part with either of my dogs!"
+Sandy replied, with a contented shake of his head.
+
+He did not speak again, but lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
+
+There were many of these long silences during those days on the hills
+and to his surprise Donald had come to enjoy them. At first he had
+looked forward eagerly to the coming of the camp-tender, who made his
+rounds three times a week. Not only did this Mexican bring fresh-baked
+bread, cold meat, and condensed milk to add to the campers' stock of
+salt pork, lentils, and coffee, but he brought messages from the outside
+world; gossip from the other herders; and now and then a letter from
+Donald's father. These visits were as exciting as to meet an ocean liner
+at sea. Gradually, however, Donald looked forward less and less to
+seeing the tiny Mexican burros with their loaded paniers wend their way
+up the hillsides. He grew into the shepherd life until like Sandy he
+found himself courting the sense of isolation and almost resenting the
+intrusion of the camp-tender.
+
+He could now understand why the herders who had lived on the range for
+years were such a silent lot of men. When his father and he had first
+arrived at Crescent Ranch the shepherds had had so little to say that
+Donald, who was a sensitive lad, had felt sure that the men did not like
+to have them come. Later, however, he had found the herders kindly
+despite their taciturn manner. It was not ill-will but habitual silence.
+
+"What a lot of things people say that they don't need to, Sandy," he
+observed to the Scotchman one day.
+
+Sandy chuckled outright.
+
+"So you have come to that way of thinking, have you? We'll make a
+shepherd of you yet! Well, well, it is true enough. Folks chatter and
+chatter and what does it amount to? Many's the time they wish afterward
+they had held their tongues. But it is all as we're made. Some drop into
+being contented on the range; others cannot bear the stillness. I was
+ever happy alone in the open; but my brother Douglas was uneasy as a
+colt."
+
+"I didn't know you had a brother, Sandy!" exclaimed Donald, in surprise.
+
+"Aye, a little lad, five years younger than myself."
+
+"What--what became of him, Sandy?"
+
+"What became of him--that's a question that I wish I could answer! He
+came to Crescent Ranch years ago with my father and me and was about
+the place for a long time. But he was all for the city. He hated the
+quiet of the hills. He wanted to be seeing people and to be around in
+the rush of things, and he begged my father to let him go to some big
+place and find a job. My father was ever a strict man and he would have
+none of the youngster's going off by himself. There came a day, though,
+when the lad was so sore and unhappy that my father bid him set off for
+the East. There was no other way to satisfy the boy. But it was a sad
+time for my father--and for me, too."
+
+"Where did he go?"
+
+"To some city on the coast, I dinna just know where. We were ever
+thinking he would come back some day--but he never did. It is years now
+since I have had tidings from him. But sometimes when I am here by
+myself I cannot but wonder where he is and what has become of him. He'd
+be a man near twenty-five now."
+
+"Does my father know this?"
+
+"Likely not."
+
+"May I tell him?"
+
+"Aye, to be sure. No boy should have secrets from his father."
+
+"I can't see why a boy should want to," declared Donald. "Why, my father
+and I are--well, we are the greatest friends in the world! I like to be
+with him better than any one else."
+
+"So I figure. He must be thinking now and again that he'd like a sight
+of you at Crescent instead of seeing Thornton every day."
+
+"What sort of a man is Thornton, Sandy?"
+
+"What sort of a man do you take him to be?"
+
+"I do not like him!" was the prompt reply.
+
+"And wherefore?"
+
+"Oh, I--don't--know."
+
+"A poor reason. Dinna say that about any man until you get a better
+one."
+
+Donald colored.
+
+Sandy had dropped many a curt word that had brought the boy up,
+standing. Whatever else the young herder was he was just. Not only did
+Donald's liking, but his respect for him, increase.
+
+Ah, what happy days they passed together! Donald became so attached to
+the various camps that he hated to leave them. Sometimes he and Sandy
+would stay in a spot a week, sometimes ten days; then onward and upward
+over the great plateaus of the mountains they made their way. These flat
+reaches of pasture-land were like huge steps. It was hard to realize
+that they were constantly climbing. Yet up, up, up they went! Each camp
+was several hundred feet higher than the last. As they went on the
+pasturage became richer, the air cooler. Clear streams from melting,
+snowy summits rushed along, leaving pathways of music behind them. With
+a hawk's keenness Sandy chose the most fertile stretches of grass for
+the flock.
+
+"The weight of the clip depends on good grazing," he explained to
+Donald.
+
+"The clip?"
+
+"Aye, the wool. Wool is sold by the pound, you must know. The better the
+feed, the thicker the wool. We must look out, though, for poisoned
+meadows. There do be many in this region."
+
+"Poisoned meadows!"
+
+"Fields where poison herbage grows. Hundreds of sheep lose their lives
+devouring poisonous weeds. Keep your eye out for signs, laddie."
+
+"Signs! Signs up here!"
+
+"Where else? That is one of the many things our United States government
+does for us. It posts notices of poisoned meadows to warn the grazers on
+the range."
+
+"That is a pretty nice thing to do!" Donald said.
+
+"Sure enough it is," agreed Sandy. "Some day the survey will have all
+the water-holes catalogued along with the poisoned herbage, and will
+then be able to direct herders to the best grazing grounds. That is what
+the government is busy trying to do now."
+
+"And yet sheep-owners kick at paying for permits," exclaimed Donald.
+"Why, lots of that permit money must come back in this way to the very
+men who pay it."
+
+"For certain! And mind what I'm telling you--you will see more things
+that the government is doing for the herders when you get higher up. You
+will see great pastures fenced in with coyote-proof wire--pastures to be
+used in lambing time so the young creatures will be safe from
+prairie-dogs."
+
+"Do you have coyotes on the range?"
+
+"Do we? Do we? Folks would know you for a tenderfoot right off if they
+heard you ask that question! The coyote, I'd have you know, is the pest
+of the sheepman. He's the meanest critter--but there, why be talking?
+You'll see for yourself soon enough. The government has spent thousands
+of dollars killing coyotes on these ranges."
+
+"To help the sheep-raisers?"
+
+"So."
+
+"Well, I don't wonder my father wanted Crescent Ranch to pay its full
+share for permits. Since we are getting all these advantages, we ought
+to bear our part of the expense, oughtn't we?" said Donald.
+
+"That's my feeling. We ought to be proud, too, we are bearing it. It's a
+grand country! I wasn't born here, like you, but I came here as a child,
+and the bones of my people are here. I mean to live in America and take
+what it offers, and wouldn't I be the churl not to give the little I
+can in return! I haven't money, but I can live up to the laws. Scotchman
+though I be 'twill no hinder me from making a good American of myself."
+
+"Bully for you, Sandy!" cried Donald. Then he added soberly: "I am going
+to be a better American when I get back home."
+
+"Dinna wait till then, laddie--be a better one now!"
+
+Sandy chanced to be deftly cutting the outline of a thistle on a spruce
+staff he was carving for the boy. Donald watched him in silence as he
+worked in the fading light. The sun had set behind the chain of near
+hills, and the plateau where they were camping was gray with shadows.
+Through the dusk they could see the flock lazily browsing among the
+junipers.
+
+Suddenly there was a cry from Sandy.
+
+He threw down the staff and sprang to his feet.
+
+"The herd!" he shouted. "They're off!"
+
+Sure enough! Without a cry the leaders had started for the rimrock, and
+in their wake--straight for the face of the precipice--was running the
+entire flock.
+
+"They're startled!" gasped Sandy. "We must head 'em off. Run for your
+life! We must get between the brainless creatures and the cliff before
+they go over."
+
+Donald ran. He had never run so before. His training as a track sprinter
+stood him in good stead now. But he had never been a long-distance
+runner. Two hundred yards was his limit. Moreover he was not in
+training. But he ran--ran as he did not know he could run. He gained on
+the sheep. Sandy, in the meantime, was waving his arms to the dogs who,
+understanding his slightest motion, now dashed ahead. The sheep,
+however, were far in advance by this time. On they sped in mad panic.
+Donald could run no more. He began to lag, his heart beating like a
+hammer. Even Sandy, who from the opposite direction was racing for the
+edge of the rock, slackened his pace.
+
+The race was a hopeless one.
+
+Then without warning, out of the trees at the left side of the field
+rode a horseman at full gallop. With flying hoofs he cut in ahead of
+the herd just as they neared the face of the rock.
+
+The leaders swerved, circled, and turned about. The gait of the
+stampeding flock lessened. The dogs skilfully steered the approaching
+sheep out to one side where Sandy scattered them that they might not
+collide with the ranks coming toward them. Gradually the fears of the
+flock became quieted. Falling into a walk they worked their way into
+their customary places and turned about, feeding as they went.
+
+Immediately when Sandy saw them safe he pressed forward to the side of
+the horseman where he beckoned Donald to join him.
+
+"I spied your plight from the ridge above, Sandy McCulloch," called the
+rider. "The rest of the Crescent herd has gone in to the Reserve and I
+have had my eye out for you for days. I thought it was about time that
+you were coming along."
+
+"It's a good turn you've done me this day, Sargeant," Donald heard Sandy
+say.
+
+"You have done many a favor for me."
+
+"Dinna be talking. It is little I ever did for you. An errand or two
+perhaps, or carrying a message--but what is that? Any man would be glad
+to do the same. To-night, though, you have saved my whole herd. We
+should not have had a sheep left. Here is Master Donald Clark, the son
+of our owner," went on Sandy, as Donald came nearer. "Let him thank you.
+Don, this soldier is one of the government rangers."
+
+Leaning from his saddle the horseman put out his hand.
+
+"I am proud," he said, "to meet one of the owners of Crescent Ranch. If
+you are learning about the range, Master Clark, you cannot be in better
+company than to be with Sandy McCulloch. There is little about sheeping
+that he doesn't know; nor is there a cleaner-handed herder to be found.
+We never need to see his permit or count his sheep. He is no
+lawbreaker!"
+
+"I hope none of our men are," replied Donald, shyly.
+
+"Crescent Ranch has always had the reputation of being run on the
+square. We have no complaint to make," was the ranger's answer.
+
+"We--my father means that it shall be," the boy asserted modestly.
+
+"I do not doubt he does. You will have trouble, though, I fear, in
+finding another manager who can match Old Angus--or even Johnson. They
+were rare men who were famed throughout the county for their honesty and
+common sense."
+
+"We shall try to find some other manager as good."
+
+"May you be so fortunate. Good luck to you!"
+
+With a wave of his hand the ranger cantered into the darkness and was
+soon lost from sight.
+
+"You see, don't you, Don, that the rangers are not our natural born
+enemies after all," said Sandy, with a good-humored smile that bared his
+glistening teeth.
+
+"I should say not!"
+
+"They are all like that if we but live up to our part of the bargain. I
+never yet met a ranger who was not friendly and kind. But you cannot
+have folks for your friends if you do not meet them half-way."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+DONALD HAS A SURPRISE
+
+
+It was something of a disappointment when one morning a week or two
+later the camp-tender, who had scrambled up over the rimrock, informed
+Donald that he was to return to the central camp where his father would
+meet him, and take him back to Crescent.
+
+"The ponies are tethered just below, so you can ride down along with
+me," said the Mexican. "There is nothing the matter, only your father
+has more than he can do with but Thornton and Green to help him. He
+needs you for a while. He told me to tell you that in a few weeks you
+might come back."
+
+Donald looked regretfully at Sandy.
+
+"I'm sorry to go, Sandy. I promised, though, that I would return to
+Crescent whenever father wanted me; of course I am anxious to help him
+all I can. I cannot realize that it is June, and that I have been two
+months on the range. What a jolly time we have had! It seems a pity to
+go and leave you here by yourself."
+
+"It would not be the first time I have been alone in the hills," smiled
+Sandy.
+
+"He'll not be by himself either," put in Pete, the Mexican, "for Tobin
+came up over the trail with me and is to bear Sandy company."
+
+Donald's face brightened.
+
+"I know you'll not be lonely, Sandy," he said, "but suppose anything
+happened to you--what if you happened to be hurt as Johnson was?"
+
+"Aye, poor Johnson! What do they hear from him, Pete?"
+
+"Mr. Clark has been to Glen City a number of times to see him. He is
+getting on finely! The ribs are mending and the hip, too. His heart is
+the trouble now; he is breaking his heart for Crescent and the range.
+The doctor says that he will never be able to come back to the ranch.
+Mr. Clark is going to settle him and his wife on a farm of their own in
+California, where their son is."
+
+"Oh, I am very glad!" cried Donald. "Father said he should always look
+out for Johnson because he had been so faithful."
+
+"It is like your father to do it--and like your grandfather, too, Don.
+May you be as good a man! Now get your traps together and be off with
+Pete. It's many a time I'll be thinking of you after you are gone,
+laddie."
+
+"But you know I am coming back in a few weeks, Sandy."
+
+"There's long weeks and short weeks; it all depends on what you're
+doing," was Sandy's whimsical answer. "Now be off. Why, you'd think I
+was seeing you to India instead of just down to the lowlands!"
+
+As he dropped over the rimrock, Donald tried to laugh. It was not until
+he was mounted upon the little Mexican pony that he gained courage to
+look up. Outlined against the sky Sandy was standing on a point of rock,
+waving his sombrero. That was the last Donald saw of him.
+
+Chatting as they rode down the mountainside the boy and Pete pressed
+forward over the trail. At noon they dismounted and lunched on salt-pork
+and pilot bread. Then off they cantered again. The tiny ponies,
+sure-footed as mules, made their way over the steep inclines of the
+hilly country with astonishing daintiness, but although they maintained
+a fair and even speed it was sunset when the white top of the prairie
+schooner came into sight, drawn up beside a stream and sheltered by a
+group of great trees. Several Mexican ponies were pastured near it. The
+curtains at the end of the wagon were parted and fastened back and
+inside Donald could catch a glimpse of Manuel, the Mexican cook, busily
+preparing the food. A curl of faint smoke rose from the tin pipe which
+protruded through the canvas, arching the top of the wagon. Then as
+Donald looked, into the clearing came the erect figure of his father.
+
+[Illustration: THE PANTING PONY STOOD STILL]
+
+The boy gave a shrill whistle on his fingers and touched the spurs to
+his horse's flank.
+
+"Father!" he called.
+
+Another moment and the panting pony stood still near the wagon, his
+sides heaving.
+
+Donald dismounted and ran to meet his father.
+
+"Well, well!" was Mr. Clark's first exclamation. "How is this? I sent a
+pale-faced American boy to the range and I get an Indian in exchange!"
+
+"I suppose I am tanned," laughed Donald. "I know my hands are. As for my
+face--I have not seen it since I started. We don't have looking-glasses
+in the hills."
+
+"And you enjoyed your trip?"
+
+"I had the time of my life, father! It is simply bully up there. I wish
+you had been along."
+
+"I am planning to go back with you in two or three weeks. It seemed a
+pity to bring you down, but I did need you, Don. If it had only been
+that I missed you I should not have sent, no matter how much I wanted to
+see you."
+
+"I was glad to come, sir. How is everything at Crescent?"
+
+"Going well. We are getting in a big crop of alfalfa from the south
+meadow. That is why I wanted you. You will now have to turn farmer and
+pitch hay for a while."
+
+"All right!"
+
+And that was what Donald did. For the next few weeks he was busy helping
+his father harvest the first crop of alfalfa grass, drying it, and
+storing it away in the great sprawling barn of the home ranch for winter
+feed. Days of hard work were succeeded by nights of heavy slumber. Life
+was very real. The boy was doing something--something that
+told--something that was of use to other persons; he had a place to
+fill, duties for which he was responsible. Continually he found himself
+speaking of "our ranch" and suggesting to his father that "we" do such
+and such things.
+
+Mr. Clark rubbed his hands with satisfaction. Although he and Donald had
+always preserved a close comradeship no experience had ever drawn them
+so near together as had this common interest. It was happiness to each
+of them. From the time the boy tumbled out of bed in the early morning
+until he tumbled in again at dusk his whistle could be heard shrill
+above the click of mowing-machines, and the tramp of horses' hoofs.
+
+At last came the day when the last load of alfalfa was housed under
+cover; then Mr. Clark said to Thornton:
+
+"Well, Thornton, there seems to be nothing more for which we shall be
+needed at present. You can deal out the rations and send them to the
+three central camps without me; you can also order necessary supplies
+from Glen City. Some repairs remain for you to oversee, but I am sure
+you fully understand about them, and can manage them without my help.
+To-morrow, therefore, if the day is fine, Donald and I will set out for
+the range, I think."
+
+Donald threw his hat into the air.
+
+"To join Sandy, father?" he asked eagerly.
+
+"That is my plan."
+
+"Hurrah!"
+
+Mr. Clark looked amused at his enthusiasm.
+
+"One would think you a born shepherd, Don, instead of a boy who has only
+been out on the range with a herder."
+
+"Why do you call Sandy just a herder, father?" Donald asked, seeming to
+fear that the term was a slight to his friend the Scotchman.
+
+"Because he is a herder, son. A shepherd is a man who herds or tends his
+own sheep--sheep that belong to him; a herder, on the contrary, is a man
+hired to care for other people's sheep. There is a great difference, you
+see. Generally speaking, a shepherd will take more pains with a flock
+than a herder will on the principle that we are more interested in our
+own possessions than in those which are not our own."
+
+"No one could take better care of sheep, father, than Sandy does."
+
+"I feel sure of that," agreed his father, gravely. "In fact all our
+herders are honest men--I am convinced of it. After the next shearing I
+mean to give to each man a small band of sheep for his own. He may run
+them with the flocks, sell the wool, and keep the money as a nest-egg.
+The men deserve a share in the profits of Crescent Ranch and I should
+like them to have it in return for their splendid spirit of loyalty."
+
+"Even Thornton?"
+
+Mr. Clark hesitated.
+
+"I have been watching Thornton," he admitted slowly. "That is why I kept
+him with me, and why I stayed behind."
+
+"Why, I never thought of that being the reason!"
+
+"It was my chief reason."
+
+"But now you are going off and leaving Thornton alone," Donald said,
+somewhat puzzled.
+
+"Yes, and I am leaving him in a position of trust, too. The supplies and
+much of our business is in his hands. He knows it. If he proves himself
+worthy, I shall appoint him, when we leave here, as manager in Johnson's
+place; if he abuses the confidence I am placing in him he will force me
+to appoint some one else. I wish to be perfectly fair."
+
+"But I do not like Thornton," declared Donald.
+
+"We must never be guided by our prejudices, Don."
+
+"And anyway," went on the boy, "I don't see how you will know what he is
+doing. You will be miles away in the hills. He could do almost anything
+he chose. Have you left some one to watch him, father?"
+
+"No, indeed, son. That would be a mean method; don't you think so? To
+set a trap for a man, or to spy upon him would be contemptible!"
+
+Donald hung his head, ashamed of the suggestion.
+
+"No," continued Mr. Clark less severely, "I have left no one on guard
+over Thornton but himself. I am really trusting him."
+
+"You will never find out what he does, then."
+
+"Yes, I shall."
+
+"I don't see how."
+
+"Thornton himself shall tell me."
+
+Donald gasped.
+
+"He never will tell you, father!" announced the boy positively.
+
+"Wait and see. Now let us think no more of Thornton, for it is of Sandy
+that we are to talk. He has a great surprise for you."
+
+"A surprise for me!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Mr. Clark studied the lad's mystified expression with pleasure.
+
+"A surprise for me!" repeated Donald. "What can it be!"
+
+"You will see."
+
+"Aren't you going to tell me?"
+
+"No, not a word. It would spoil Sandy's fun."
+
+"A surprise!" reiterated Donald over and over.
+
+As they rode from the central camp up over the rough trail Don
+speculated constantly as to what could be in store for him. It seemed a
+long journey for he was impatient to solve the waiting enigma. What
+surprise could Sandy have concocted? At the border of the Reserve they
+met the ranger who chanced to be patrolling that portion of the
+government line. He remembered Donald very well and greeted him kindly;
+he also had a cordial word for Mr. Clark. Donald, however, begrudged
+even this brief delay and was glad when they plunged into the woods and
+were on their way through the National Forest.
+
+Pete, the Mexican camp-tender who had come with them as guide, knew the
+country as an American boy knows his A B C's. He hunted out sheltered
+nooks where they could camp at night, taking great care to build the
+fire on a rocky base that it might not set ablaze the brush and litter
+of pine-needles about them.
+
+"Many a careless shepherd sets a forest fire through being thoughtless,"
+he said. "Acres of timber will be burned off a hillside by one person
+who did not put out his fire, or scattered sparks in the dried
+underbrush. Old Angus trained us Crescent men always to build our fires
+on a flat rock if we could; then there is no danger of our doing damage
+in the reserve or elsewhere."
+
+"It is a wise plan," Mr. Clark said heartily. "I wish all herders were
+as careful."
+
+So they journeyed on--now in the sunlight of the plateaus, now in the
+shadows of the forest. Then one morning they suddenly emerged into an
+emerald meadow glowing with sunshine. There a beautiful sight met
+Donald's eye.
+
+Spread out like a fan the herd was grazing on the rich herbage of the
+mountain pasture, their backs to the brilliant light as was their wont.
+But of these details Donald was not conscious. What held him spellbound
+was the miracle that had happened in his absence. Now he knew the
+surprise that Sandy had for him! Beside every ewe in the flock stood a
+tiny white lamb!
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+A SECOND ADVENTURE
+
+
+Donald's delight at being back on the range was equaled only by Sandy's
+pleasure at having him there. The first thing, of course, was to display
+the lambs to the boy and Mr. Clark.
+
+With no little pride the Scotchman led the newcomers over the pasture,
+pointing out the finest blooded creatures in the flock.
+
+"One would think, Sandy, that you were a mother hen with a brood of
+chicks!" laughed Donald's father. "Well, you have a right to be pleased
+with your herd. You have a fine lot of lambs."
+
+"They are no so handsome just now, sir," Sandy chuckled. "But give them
+time! A few weeks more, and a winsome sight they'll be."
+
+"Are--are--lambs always so long-legged?" queried Donald timidly, anxious
+not to hurt Sandy's feelings. "These seem to have no bodies at all--just
+legs."
+
+"That is their nature, lad. They have only enough body to keep their
+legs alive. Young lambs are ever like that. Later they fill out. It is
+their strong legs that enable them to travel with the flock as soon as
+they are three or four weeks old. But I am proud of them--legs or no
+legs. Now that they are here, our next task is to bring them through
+alive. We have lost but a few thus far. Luckily we had several sets of
+twins, so we have been able to give a lamb to every mother sheep that
+lost her baby. We fasten the strange lamb inside the skin of the dead
+one, and the mother is as well pleased as if she had her own back
+again."
+
+"What a funny idea!" Donald said.
+
+"Yes, isn't it? You see sheep recognize their young merely by scent. The
+power of smell is remarkably keen in all sheep. They can tell their
+babies no other way. We do not want any of the ewes grieving because
+they have no lamb--they do grieve, poor things--so we have to fool them
+a little. It is a fair thing to do because the ewes with twins do not
+need two. They are just as happy with one," explained Sandy.
+
+"And now you will have a big, big flock to take care of, won't you,
+Sandy?"
+
+"Aye! There is much more to do now. I am glad you have come back, Don,
+for I can put you to work."
+
+"You must put me to work also, Sandy," Mr. Clark observed, smiling.
+
+Sandy shook his head.
+
+"Well, I reckon not. It would be a fine thing for me to be asking a
+gentleman like you to put your hand to anything, now wouldn't it!"
+
+Evidently the idea amused the herder.
+
+"Why not?" Mr. Clark asked seriously. "I am used to putting my hand to
+much hard work when I am at home. Everybody in this world works one way
+or another. Some of us work with our heads, some with our hands; but so
+long as it is all honest, helpful work and we do it the best we can, we
+are all on equal footing, Sandy. Now if you were in my office in Boston
+I might be teaching you kinds of work that would be new to you; here you
+can teach me. Try and forget everything, and just consider me a person
+who is interested in sheep and wants to learn about them. Let me join
+Donald in helping all I can."
+
+"I'll take you at your word then, sir, since you urge me. I'm no denying
+it will make matters simpler. There is enough to do--more than enough,
+and extra help will be welcome. Luigi will be going down with the
+ponies, I suppose, sir."
+
+"Yes, he is to take them back, and stay and aid Thornton at the ranch."
+
+"Then you will have a place to fill right away, Mr. Clark. Some of the
+men who have been helping have gone down already, but I have kept Tobin
+and a couple of the Mexicans. Still it is no so easy to protect so many
+lambs from the coyotes. Lambing time is their great feasting season. A
+coyote is a mean creature, sir. Yet despise 'em as you may you cannot
+help admiring their cunning. There is no smarter animal alive than a
+coyote!"
+
+"Tell us about them."
+
+Sandy dropped down on a rock beside Mr. Clark and Donald.
+
+"A coyote, as of course you know, is a wee bit wolf, about the size of a
+fox, and there is no feed he enjoys so well as a young lamb. Coyotes
+seem to know when the lambs come and they make ready to raid the flocks.
+You'd think folks would be bright enough to catch 'em, but there ain't
+wit enough in the world to get ahead of them. They're the cutest! The
+tricks a coyote will invent, sir, pass belief. In spite of the fact this
+pasture is fenced with coyote-proof wire the creatures manage to get
+in--goodness only knows how."
+
+"Have they bothered you much, Sandy?"
+
+"Have they! Haven't we built fires round the herd every night and
+patrolled the whole distance, back and forth, until light? Luigi,
+Bernardo, Carlos, and I have been on our feet from twilight until
+sunrise, tramping like sentinels; yet with all our care we have lost six
+lambs already. Six is not many when you consider the numbers some
+herders lose, still it is just six too many. So you see if Luigi goes
+down over the trail to-day with the ponies we can find work for you and
+Donald to-night."
+
+"Oh, I think it will be great fun to patrol!" cried Donald.
+
+"Think you so? Well, mayhap you will find it sport, since you haven't
+been doing it night after night for two weeks, lad."
+
+Donald regarded him good-naturedly.
+
+"There will be plenty of work waiting you by day, too," Sandy went on.
+"Just now we are busy inserting the flock mark in the ear of each
+lamb--a metal button with a crescent on it. The next ranch to ours is
+Anchor Ranch, and their herd is marked with an anchor, while down beyond
+lies Star Ranch. It behooves us to keep close track of our herds and
+mark them carefully. Then in addition to the marking we must dock the
+tails of the lambs lest they become foul; and we must record every lamb.
+We have a book where we enter the number of the mother and opposite it
+the number of her lamb. That is the way we keep track of the breeds."
+
+"Why, I had no idea you had so many things to do, Sandy," said Donald.
+"It is almost as bad as taking the census."
+
+"It is, and it all has to be done correctly, too. You can look up in the
+books the history of every sheep we have at Crescent Ranch. The pure
+breed lambs have to be registered with the Breed Secretary, you know."
+
+"Sheep-raising seems to lead from one thing into another," reflected
+Donald. "In the East none of us ever think of all that the wool goes
+through before it is made into clothes for us."
+
+"It is better than any story," was Sandy's reply. "Herders get tired of
+it sometimes, but I never do. Sheeping is in my blood, I reckon. What
+with herding and trailing the flock, what with bears, and bob-cats, and
+cougars, and coyotes--I dinna see how it would ever be dull."
+
+"That is because you love your work, Sandy," said Mr. Clark.
+
+"I do. Take me from the ranch, sir, and blindfold me even, and I verily
+believe I'd find my way back again. Now a bit more about the coyotes. If
+you are to be of help you must hear all I can tell you so that you will
+know the better how to fight 'em. Sometimes they'll yelp like a dog and
+trick you into thinking your own collies are in trouble; but do not
+trust them. 'Twill be no collies but themselves that are barking. Again
+they will cheat you into believing that they are far away, so gentle
+will be their cry; that is to throw you off the track. Or they will bark
+in two keys as if there were twice as many of them as there really are.
+They are the canny ones! Then when you pick up your gun and go where you
+think they are, they will no be there; 'twill be at a different spot
+they are at work."
+
+"Well, Don," said Mr. Clark, "I do not see but you and I have something
+ahead of us. I am afraid we shall be of very little help, Sandy. Why,
+one ought to be an expert to catch such a gamester as a coyote!"
+
+"Then you're no grudging us the loss of six lambs, Mr. Clark."
+
+"I do not see how you did so well--to lose only six in a great flock
+like this!"
+
+"But even so, sir, I was that wrathful when I found I had been outwitted
+I could have cried. You see six or seven coyotes put their heads
+together, as they have a way of doing, and cut a group of lambs off from
+the herd--got between them and the flock. It took the dogs to drive 'em
+away. Robin and the Prince are great fighters, and Colin is not far
+behind. Before we got rid of them, though, we had lost three lambs. The
+next time they tried a different trick: part of them barked and drew the
+dogs to a corner of the pasture, and then the rest came down on the
+unprotected end of the fold and carried away three more lambs."
+
+"Is there nothing that will stop them?" asked Donald.
+
+"We have tried many things. Some herders put strychnine in the carcasses
+of dead lambs and poison a few of the coyotes; most of them are too
+clever to be caught that way, though. The government has also killed
+many. Perhaps to-night, Don, you may have a share in the good work. But
+I warn you do not send a bullet through one of my dogs, thinking his
+barking is the yelp of one of these range thieves."
+
+"Indeed I'll be careful," Donald promised, as he sprang up and ran to
+the edge of the rimrock to wave a good-bye to Luigi, who was
+disappearing round a curve of the trail.
+
+"The lad is happy as a king here on the range, Sandy," Mr. Clark
+remarked.
+
+"He takes to it as if he had been bred on the hills, sir."
+
+"I wish he might like the work well enough to go into the business with
+me some time."
+
+"There is no telling. He is but young yet. When he is old as I, mayhap
+he may choose to settle down and be a wool-grower."
+
+"How old are you, Sandy?"
+
+"I should be near thirty, sir, I'm thinking, though I haven't always had
+a birthday cake out here on the hills," was the whimsical reply.
+
+"Thirty! A rare age for such a level head as yours!"
+
+"I dinna ken about the head, Mr. Clark. My father used to say it was the
+heart that counted most. Now what say you to a basin of hot lentil
+soup?" inquired the Scotchman, changing the subject. "You and Donald
+must be hungry."
+
+"I believe we are. Let us go down to the tent. I see Donald there
+already, building the fire."
+
+After having eaten a hearty meal they left the flock which was resting
+or grazing near by in charge of the dogs, and Mr. Clark, Donald, and the
+men turned in to snatch a few hours' sleep in anticipation of the long
+watch before them.
+
+It was deep twilight when they awoke.
+
+Sandy shook Donald by the shoulder.
+
+"We must be up and away, laddie," he said, as the boy turned drowsily.
+"It's a man's work--real work you're doing here; you are no playing
+sheep-raiser. Rouse your father, snatch a bit of bread, and come and
+help me set the watch-fires. See, the Mexicans are already ahead of us."
+
+With quick step he was off.
+
+"Dinna forget your rifle," he called as he went.
+
+Donald was on his feet.
+
+"Father," he shouted, "Sandy says we must be starting out."
+
+Mr. Clark sat up.
+
+"I promised to obey Sandy, sure enough," he yawned, "and I like him all
+the better for routing me out, sleepy though I am. I will be with you in
+a moment. Where is Sandy?"
+
+"Setting watch-fires along the outer edge of the pasture. He says to
+bring your rifle."
+
+A little later and they had overtaken the Scotchman, who was striding
+along through the darkness, swinging his lantern.
+
+"It is here I'll station you, Mr. Clark," said Sandy simply. "Patrol
+this border as far as the bonfire; then turn backward and go until you
+meet Bernardo. Donald will pace between the next two fires, and the
+Mexicans and myself will complete the circle round the flock. Be careful
+lest bob-cats steal down on you unawares; they come softly as mice, make
+no fuss, and kill so quickly that they seldom disturb the herd. It is
+likely we will no be troubled with them because of the fenced-in
+pasture. Now cougars will leap the fence without the dogs knowing them
+to be at hand, too, and will take their kill off over their shoulders
+and disappear. We have seen no cougars, though, this year, and here's
+hoping that we won't. While you are patrolling I'd advise you to fire
+now and again, even though no beasts are in sight; it scares them off.
+Now I've told you all I can. Good-night."
+
+Away into the falling darkness sped Sandy.
+
+Donald began his patrol. As he trudged back and forth on his beat he
+could catch an occasional glimpse of the Scotchman, who stopped to toss
+a few sticks on the fire or halted an instant to exchange a word with
+one of the Mexicans. The boy could also see his father's dim figure
+walking to and fro. It was dull work, this monotonous tramp. Donald
+looked up at the canopy of stars and thought he had never seen so many.
+He yawned, and yawned a second time. Still he kept up his even jog along
+the outskirts of the fold.
+
+Suddenly he was conscious of a low whine not far away. It was repeated.
+Then came a loud barking as if a pack of wolves were on the other side
+of the pasture. He heard Sandy's voice echoing on the clear air. Two
+shots followed. Perhaps the coyotes were over there; or could it be a
+cougar or a bear? How he longed to be in the midst of the sport! Why
+should he stay on this quiet, unmolested border of the pasture? Nothing
+was happening here! An impulse to join his father or Sandy swept over
+him; then a thought rose in his mind and held him back--if he left his
+patrol he would be a deserter, a deserter as blameworthy as any sentry
+who fled from his post. Straightening up proudly, the boy resumed his
+even pace.
+
+It was just as he turned that he caught sight of a crouching form
+slipping along the ground toward the edge of the flock. With a sharp
+flash Donald's rifle rang out. He shot into the air, not daring to aim
+toward the pasture lest unwittingly he injure some of the sheep in the
+darkness. His shot was answered by a yelp and a quick rush. Colin
+bounded to his side, sniffed, and darted into the herd.
+
+A commotion followed.
+
+There was a struggle, a low growl of rage.
+
+Then the collie trotted back to Donald's side dragging in his teeth a
+limp mass which he dropped at the lad's feet.
+
+The boy struck a match and turned the creature over with his foot.
+
+It was a coyote!
+
+Then how glad he was that he had not left his post!
+
+At dawn Sandy came to relieve him. The herder glanced first at the dead
+coyote, then at some faint tracks in the moist earth.
+
+"You have interrupted a midnight orgy, Don," he declared at last,
+rubbing his hands together as he always did when anything pleased him
+very much. "Here are the marks of at least four coyotes that were
+stealing down on the flock when you fired. You got this one, and
+evidently drove off the others. I wish we had had as good luck on our
+side of the fold. In spite of his watchfulness Bernardo lost two lambs.
+He is one of our best herders, too, and he is sore about it. You have
+done a good night's work, lad. I am proud of my pupil!"
+
+And as Donald heard Sandy's words his lips parted in a smile and he felt
+he would have patrolled a line twice as long to have earned the young
+Scotchman's praise.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A PREDICTION THAT CAME TRUE
+
+
+When the lambs were three weeks old Sandy decided to break camp, leave
+the fenced lambing-pasture, and push on to higher ground.
+
+"The sun is getting hot and we must have cooler quarters," he explained.
+"By nature sheep seek elevated ground, you know, and their health is
+better there. Now that their fleeces are getting so much thicker the
+poor beasts are too warm in the low places. What is more, they need the
+exercise of climbing. Grass, too, is becoming scant and we must not eat
+it down too close."
+
+Mr. Clark agreed.
+
+Therefore a clear July morning saw the vast herd winding its way up the
+steep incline of the mountainside. Sandy went on ahead, guiding the
+flock to the best pasturage and the freshest water-holes. The lambs
+trotted at their mother's sides or frisked after them with the
+playfulness of kittens. When a plentiful water supply and rich grass was
+found Sandy often delayed the upward march a week or more, that the
+flock might make the most of the lush herbage. When feed was meager
+there were days of scrambling up rocky stretches, and nights of
+patrolling the fold. Then more days of climbing would follow. Sometimes
+a scarcity of water forced them to press on against their will.
+
+They had now reached a high elevation, but the warmth of the July
+weather rendered the coolness welcome. The sheep gladly sought out the
+forest shade or, when they were above the timber-line, rested in the
+shadow of the high rocks. This rough land seemed to be the favorite
+place for their sports, and Donald and his father were never tired
+watching them.
+
+A single sheep would mount a boulder, from which vantage ground he would
+stand looking down at the herd. In a moment several of the flock would
+rush forward, butt him from the rock, and one of them would take his
+place, only to be driven down and succeeded by the next victor. The
+sheep often played this for a long time.
+
+"It is a good game, too," declared Sandy, "for to rush up the side of a
+high rock like that and not slip back makes them sure-footed."
+
+Another game the flock sometimes played was Follow the Leader, one old
+ewe marching ahead, followed by a line of sheep that went wherever she
+led them.
+
+"They play it almost as well as we did at school," said Donald, much
+amused.
+
+"That is a useful game too," went on Sandy. "By playing it the young
+lambs learn to follow the others, and do what they do. That is one way
+they get training to keep in the herd and obey the mind of the leader.
+It is really more of a lesson than a game. I suspect, though, they are
+like us--so long as they think it is a game they like to play it.
+Perhaps, now, if we were to hint to them it was a lesson they might
+never play it again."
+
+Donald chuckled.
+
+There were many times when it seemed to him that Sandy must be a boy of
+fourteen instead of a man of forty; yet the next moment the Scotchman
+would address him with the gravity of a grandfather, and immediately
+Donald felt very young indeed. A strange mixture of youth and wisdom was
+Sandy McCulloch!
+
+As the lambs were now old enough to travel with the flock there was no
+further need for the Mexicans to linger on the range, and they therefore
+went back over the trail to busy themselves at the home ranch until
+shearing time. The camp-tender, too, did not now take time to make the
+difficult journey up into the mountains, but left supplies at a given
+spot in the lower pastures, or met some of the party half-way and
+delivered over the provisions. If the rations were left it fell to the
+lot of one of the campers on the upper range to ride down on the pony
+and bring back "the grub," as Sandy called it. Once when Mr. Clark went
+down it was only to find that the supplies had been scented out by a
+bear and dragged away; in consequence the party on the mountain were
+forced to get on without bread or fresh provisions until the tender made
+his next round.
+
+At times it was Donald's turn to make this trip; on other days Sandy or
+Bernardo went. As there was always the chance of meeting a grizzly or a
+rattler the journey was not without its perils.
+
+Thus the summer passed.
+
+Then came the fall days, when threatened cold made it necessary to turn
+the heads of the herd toward the lower hills of the winter range.
+Downward they wended their way. Flurries of snow caught them unawares
+and at these blizzards Sandy's face always became grave, for it was in
+one of these sudden squalls that his father, Old Angus, had perished.
+Although the days were chilly and the nights still colder, Mr. Clark and
+Donald kept resolutely with the flock; but when they reached the
+lowlands and the Scotch herder directed his band of sheep toward the
+bronzed fields of sage-brush and dried hay lying along the river valley
+Donald and his father bade good-bye to Bernardo and Sandy and returned
+to the shelter of the home ranch.
+
+Thornton welcomed them.
+
+There was something new in his manner--a strange, unaccustomed dignity
+which lent to the man a charm he had never before possessed.
+
+"Thornton did not shuffle toward us and look down as he usually does,"
+observed Donald to his father when they were alone. "He is different,
+somehow. What is it?"
+
+"I am not sure, son, but I cannot help feeling that Thornton has come to
+his best self. The best is in all of us. It is not, however, always
+uppermost. Perhaps it is going to triumph in Thornton."
+
+There unquestionably was a change in the big rough man.
+
+That evening he got out the books and went over all the accounts with
+Mr. Clark, telling him just what supplies he had ordered; what they had
+cost; and how much he had paid out in wages. In dealing with financial
+matters Mr. Clark was on his native heath. He studied the columns of
+figures critically. The accounts were correct to a cent, and he could
+readily see that every reasonable economy had been practiced in the
+management of the ranch.
+
+"You have done well, Thornton," he said after he had finished looking
+over the bills and papers. "I am greatly obliged to you for your
+faithful work."
+
+Donald saw a flush of pleasure rise to the man's cheek.
+
+"My work has not always been faithful, Mr. Clark," Thornton declared
+with sudden determination. "I want to tell you, sir, that I was not
+setting out to be faithful to you at all. I wanted to get Johnson's
+place, and then I meant to run Crescent Ranch to please myself. I am
+going to confess the whole thing; I want to confess it because your
+confidence in me has made me ashamed of myself. You must have known
+somehow that I was not running things as they ought to be run, else you
+would never have come out here. Sandy knew it--so did all the old
+herders. Yet, save about the permits, you never have spoken a word of
+reproof, but have gone on trusting me. When you looked me so kindly in
+the eye and went away leaving me in care of the whole home ranch I
+somehow felt that you expected me to do the square thing."
+
+His voice faltered.
+
+Donald, who had been an uncomfortable listener, now rose and tried to
+steal out of the room unnoticed, but Thornton called him back.
+
+"Do not go, lad. You may be owning Crescent Ranch some day, and I want
+you to hear what I have to say. There is not much more to tell. After
+you and your father had gone to the range with Sandy I sat down and
+thought it all over. Here I was, alone! There was no getting away from
+myself. I reviewed all the plans I had made--how I was going to stock
+some of my friends at Glen City with provisions and charge it up to
+Clark & Sons; how I was going to pad the accounts and keep the money--I
+went over the whole thing, and I felt mean as a cur. It came to me that
+it was a pretty poor game. Then another plan came into my mind. You were
+giving me a chance to be decent--why didn't I take it? I did. I have
+been absolutely honest about running the ranch while you have been gone,
+Mr. Clark. I can look you and Donald in the eye just as Sandy, Jose,
+Bernardo, and the other men do who have been working for your interest
+all these years."
+
+Mr. Clark put out his hand.
+
+"I am glad you told me this, Thornton," he said quietly, "and I believe
+you. See, here is a sheet of paper; it is scrawled over with letters and
+figures of every sort. Turn it over."
+
+Wonderingly the man obeyed. Nothing was written on the other side. It
+was a blank page.
+
+"You see there is nothing on that side," went on Donald's father. "We
+can there write what we will. Turn your own page the same way. Let us
+forget the past. Now for the future! Will you take the position as
+manager of Crescent Ranch?"
+
+Thornton was aghast.
+
+"I, sir! I? After all that has happened?" he contrived to stammer.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"I couldn't do it, Mr. Clark. Not one of the men would believe in me.
+No, I am going to leave this place after the shearing is over, and go
+somewhere where no one knows me; there I can make a fresh start. And
+anyway, even if all this had not happened, I am not the man to be
+manager here. I have neither the confidence of the herders, nor the
+necessary knowledge about the flocks. But there is a man on Crescent
+Ranch who knows everything there is to know about sheep-raising--a man
+honest as the day, and who loves the place as if it was his own--Sandy
+McCulloch, sir. He is the only man for the position--there never has
+been any one else. Put him in as manager and you will never regret it."
+
+Donald sprang up.
+
+"Oh, father, do put Sandy in," he cried. "I never thought of Sandy as
+manager--he seems so young!"
+
+"I have thought of him all along," Thornton continued. "That is why I
+was so ready with a word against him every chance I got. I have been
+afraid of him--afraid of his honesty and his goodness. It was not that
+he would tell tales about me; Sandy is too big-natured a man to do
+that. He would scorn to use a mean weapon. No, it was just because he
+was what he was that I feared him."
+
+Mr. Clark was silent.
+
+"You owe it to Old Angus, Sandy's father, to give the lad the place,
+sir," pleaded Thornton.
+
+"And if I did what is to become of you, Thornton?" asked the owner
+slowly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know. It does not matter. I will stay here until after the
+shearing, for it is a busy time and I might be of help. Then I can go
+and look up something else."
+
+Donald watched his father as he bent forward and stirred the fire. The
+well-known little wrinkle had come in his forehead and the boy knew that
+his mind was busy.
+
+"Thornton," said Mr. Clark at last, "have you relatives here in the
+West?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Are you alone in the world?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Would you like to go East with Donald and me when we return to Boston
+after the shearing?"
+
+Thornton regarded him blankly.
+
+"I need another man in my office," explained the wool-broker. "You have
+proved yourself a good accountant. Furthermore it would be greatly to
+our advantage to have a reliable helper who is familiar with ranch
+affairs and knows Sandy, the new manager. Then if I wanted some one, as
+I often have in the past, to make the trip out here and attend to
+business for me, you could do it."
+
+Thornton got up and walked to the window. They could not see his face.
+He stood with his back toward them, looking out into the darkness.
+
+Then suddenly he wheeled and came to Mr. Clark's side.
+
+"You took me by surprise, sir," he said unsteadily. "I cannot thank you.
+I know well it is another chance you are giving me. I will take it and
+go East, and there I will prove to you that in the future you can trust
+me."
+
+"You have proved that already, Thornton," replied Donald's father, as he
+smiled up into the face of the ranchman and gripped his coarse brown
+hand.
+
+After Thornton had left the room Donald and his father were silent.
+
+At last the boy said:
+
+"You were right about Thornton, father. He was honest with you, just as
+you predicted he would be."
+
+"I believe if you expect the best of a man you will usually get it,"
+replied Mr. Clark. "There is something big and honest in each of us
+which springs to meet the big and honest in somebody else. Appeal to
+that best side of people and it will respond. I have seldom known the
+rule to fail. Now just one thing more. Do not forget that this man has
+given us his confidence. It is a thing we must hold sacred. Never repeat
+what you have heard. And above all remember that Thornton deserves both
+admiration and respect, for it is only great natures that admit they
+have done wrong."
+
+Donald nodded.
+
+"I like Thornton better than I did before father," he said softly.
+
+"So do I, son!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE SHEARING
+
+
+There was great rejoicing among the herders when, in the latter part of
+April, they drove their flocks to Glen City for the shearing, and heard
+that Sandy McCulloch had been made manager of Crescent Ranch.
+
+Mr. Clark and Donald gave out the facts with greatest care--how Thornton
+was to become Clark & Son's confidential man at the Boston office; and
+how Sandy was to take the vast sheep-raising portion of the business
+under his direction.
+
+"It is a proud day for you, Sandy!" cried Jose.
+
+"I'm no pretending I ain't pleased," replied Sandy, beaming on the
+Mexican, "but dinna think I'm proud. If I do my work well pride may
+come; still, it's no time for it now."
+
+"Of course you'll do it well--how could you help it! It is in your
+blood," Jose declared. "You have your father's own knack about the
+flocks. It is the real love for herding--a kind of part of you, it
+seems."
+
+"I get it from generations of shepherds who have tended the black-faced
+sheep among the broom and the heather on the hills of Scotland, I doubt
+not," answered Sandy.
+
+"Well, it stands you in good stead, however you come by it," Jose called
+over his shoulder as he moved off toward the pen where his sheep were.
+
+"I hope it may stand me in good stead in the future, Don," Sandy said
+gravely to the boy beside him.
+
+"I am sure it will. Isn't it splendid, Sandy, to see the herders all so
+pleased and ready to follow out your orders? I think nothing could have
+made me happier than to have you put in to manage the ranch."
+
+"I'm verra, verra glad myself, laddie. It is a thing I never dared hope
+for, and I would not have wanted to take the job from Thornton. But
+since he is going East and is to be well provided for it makes
+everything right."
+
+"And yet you telegraphed my father to come here, Sandy."
+
+It was the first time the telegram had ever been mentioned between them.
+
+Sandy hesitated.
+
+"I felt your father should come out here and cast his eye over the place
+and, loving the ranch so well, I took it on myself to send for him. But
+I told no tales. It was his task to find the flaws if there were any. I
+am no certain what he found and I dinna want to hear. I simply know the
+snarls have straightened themselves out, and that Crescent Ranch is now
+going on better than it has in years. The men have all been glad for a
+glimpse of your father. It is no so much fun working for somebody you
+have never seen. It has been a great thing to have him come. And as for
+the herds--was there ever a finer sight?"
+
+He swept his hand around dramatically.
+
+On every side, in numbered pens, sheep were waiting to be sheared.
+
+It was the first time Donald had seen the stock all together and it was
+indeed, as Sandy had declared, a fine sight.
+
+The herders were not a little proud of the thickness of the fleeces of
+their respective flocks and much good-natured banter passed between
+them.
+
+"Is it on corn-husks you have been feeding your ewes that they look so
+sickly?" called one Mexican to another.
+
+The swarthy herdsman grinned.
+
+"Mind your own band, Manuel Torquello! You haven't a fleece in your fold
+that will tip the scales at ten pounds."
+
+Both men laughed and passed on.
+
+"How much ought fleeces to weigh, Sandy?" asked Donald.
+
+"From six to ten pounds--as the clip runs. Some are heavier, some
+lighter. It depends on the quality of the wool, and the amount of oil in
+it."
+
+"I don't see why the shearing is not done at the ranch instead of
+driving all the sheep down here to Glen City," panted Donald as he tried
+to keep up with Sandy's strides.
+
+"Why, you see, lad, it is much more convenient to have the wool clipped
+near the railroad. In that way we do away with carting it. The fleeces
+can be sheared, packed, weighed, and put right on the cars. Beside that,
+we get the power to run our plant from Glen City. Our shearing is done
+by electricity and not by hand, you know."
+
+"It is mean of me to make you answer questions, Sandy, when you are in
+such a hurry," Donald ventured hesitatingly, "but I wish you had time to
+explain to me about the shearing."
+
+Sandy was in a hurry--there was no denying that!
+
+He and Donald had driven down from Crescent that morning, and were to
+meet Thornton and Mr. Clark as soon as possible at the shed where the
+shearing was to be done. Nevertheless, in spite of his haste, Sandy
+tried as he went along to answer Donald's question.
+
+"There was a time long ago when all shearing was done by hand. In the
+spring bands of traveling shearers came from ranch to ranch and sheared
+the flocks for so much a day. Sometimes these men were Mexicans,
+sometimes Indians. As they made a business of shearing and nothing else
+they became verra skilful with the shears and could turn off many
+fleeces a day. It is an art to shear a sheep. Many a try must you have
+before you can do it. The smaller ranches still shear by hand, for it
+does not pay to run a power plant unless you have large flocks."
+
+"I suppose a power plant does the work quicker," suggested Donald.
+
+"No, I think good shearers can clip the fleeces almost as fast. The
+chief advantage in machinery is that it takes the wool off closer, and
+you do not need such skilled men to do the work. You just have to
+remember not to shear flocks this way in summer, for the wool would be
+cut so close that your sheep would be wild with flies and sunburn before
+their coats grew long enough to protect them."
+
+They had now reached the plant, where they were to meet Donald's father
+and Thornton; they mounted the steps of the low building and went in.
+Immediately they were greeted by the whirr of wheels, the chatter of
+many herders, and the blatting of sheep.
+
+Mr. Clark came forward.
+
+"Well, Don," he said, "this is quite a sight, isn't it?"
+
+"I should say it was! I had no idea shearing was done this way. It is
+just the way they clip horses or cut my hair."
+
+His father smiled.
+
+"Yes, it is done on the same principle. Let us watch this man here. He
+is just starting. I thought he would tie the feet of the sheep first,
+but he does not seem to be doing it; instead he is turning it up on its
+rump, and holding it with his left arm so its hoofs cannot touch the
+floor. They say sheep never kick or struggle if their feet are raised
+from the ground. Now he is starting with the shears. See! He is opening
+the wool by a cut down the right shoulder. How neatly the fleece comes
+off--almost in one piece, as if it was a jacket!"
+
+"I guess that was a smooth-skinned sheep," laughed Donald, "or the
+shearer never could have done it so quickly."
+
+The man who was shearing overheard him.
+
+"It was a smooth-skinned one," he called. "Still, even the wrinkly
+Merinos loose their coats pretty fast. Watch and see. I have one right
+here."
+
+Donald watched.
+
+It was fascinating.
+
+"I'd like to try it," he said glancing up at his father.
+
+"I guess you'd have trouble!"
+
+"I wouldn't mind the trouble if I wasn't afraid of cutting the sheep,"
+replied the boy.
+
+"Suppose you leave it until you come West the next time," called Sandy,
+who chanced to be passing and heard his words. "You mustn't do
+everything this trip, or you'll have nothing to look forward to when you
+come again."
+
+"Perhaps it's as well for the sheep!" grunted the Mexican who was
+shearing.
+
+[Illustration: "I'D LIKE TO TRY IT"]
+
+"I shouldn't wonder!" answered Donald good-naturedly.
+
+But what a charm there was in that crisp snip of the shears!
+
+At last, however, Donald and his father moved on to where crews of men
+were busy at smooth board tables.
+
+"What are they doing here?" Donald asked.
+
+"They are tying fleeces," explained Mr. Clark.
+
+"But don't they wash that dirty wool before they tie it up?" questioned
+the boy, astounded.
+
+Sandy, who had joined them for the moment, laughed at Donald's disgust.
+
+"You'd have us washing and ironing it, perhaps," he chuckled. "No, no!
+We used to wash all fleeces before they were clipped, 'tis true. But
+your father says that now buyers care little for them washed. Folks will
+pay about as much for good wool unwashed as washed. It is a lucky thing
+for us, because it saves us much trouble; more than that, it is better
+for the sheep not to be put through the water. The thick fleece stays
+damp for many days, and unless the creature is range-bred and therefore
+used to all weather it suffers a shock, and is liable to be sick. You
+can't shear a flock until about two weeks after washing, for not only
+must the fleece dry, but new yolk must form in the wool. If the wool is
+too dry the shears will not slip through it."
+
+"But by the end of two weeks I should think the sheep would have his
+fleece all dirty again," objected Donald.
+
+"That is just the point--he does."
+
+"Why couldn't you wash the fleece after it is taken off?"
+
+"We could. It is done sometimes. Your father can tell you that he sends
+off wool and has it scoured before selling it if a buyer wishes it
+done."
+
+Mr. Clark nodded.
+
+"But here," continued Sandy, "we wash no fleeces. We do take care,
+though, not to tie very dirty pieces in with the fleece. My father
+always insisted on the tying being honest. Only wool went into the
+bundle. You and your father must watch and see how quickly they do the
+tying."
+
+As Sandy flitted away again Mr. Clark and Donald made their way to the
+long table where the boys who went about among the shearers and
+collected the fleeces were tossing them down.
+
+Each fleece was spread out on the table, the belly and loose ends folded
+deftly inside; then the whole was fastened into a square bundle.
+
+"It would seem as if any twine would do to tie a package like that,
+wouldn't it, Don?" said Mr. Clark.
+
+"Of course."
+
+"It is not so," went on his father. "There is nothing about which a
+wool-grower has to be more careful than about the twine with which he
+ties his fleeces. You must always avoid using a fiber twine--by that I
+mean hemp, or any variety having fibers which will break off in the
+wool. These fibers or particles get stuck in the fleeces, and later when
+the wool reaches the mill, the mill people do not like it. Either the
+bits of hemp have to be picked out--an endless job--or the wool is sent
+back. You can see that they could not dye wool with all these little
+particles in it. The hemp would take a different color from the rest of
+the wool, and would result in specked goods."
+
+"What kind of twine do we use, father?" asked Donald, much interested.
+
+"We use a paper twine. Other growers often tie their fleeces with glazed
+twine."
+
+"I never should have thought twine could make so much trouble," mused
+the lad.
+
+"You would think of it, though, if you had once been set to picking
+fiber out of wool as I was when I was a boy!" interrupted Sandy, as he
+darted past.
+
+Donald and his father followed at the heels of the young Scotchman as he
+went through into another shed where the wool was being packed. Here lay
+great piles of tied fleeces and heaps of loose wool. About the shed
+stood wooden frames from the center of which swung burlap sacks used for
+packing the clip.
+
+"Why do the men first stuff the two lower corners of the bags with wool
+and tie them?" the boy asked after he had looked on a few moments.
+
+"We call those corners ears," replied his father. "Sacks of wool are not
+only awkward to handle but very heavy, and it is a help to have the
+corners, firmly tied, to take hold of."
+
+Donald nodded. He was too busy looking about him to reply.
+
+The men packing the wool took one of the burlap bags, fitted its mouth
+over a wooden hoop just the right size, and fastened the bag inside the
+frame in such a way that it hung its full length and just cleared the
+floor.
+
+Then the packer began tossing wool into the sack.
+
+When it was about half-full he jumped into it and tramped the fleeces
+down solidly.
+
+Afterward he climbed out and another man wheeled a truck under the
+frame; then the packer freed the sack, and when it dropped it was
+promptly sewed up and wheeled to the scales, where it was weighed. Its
+weight was entered in a book by a man who kept the tally and the same
+figures were also roughly painted on the bag.
+
+"And there's the end of it!" exclaimed Sandy, who came up and stood
+beside Donald as Mr. Clark walked away. "Now you know the wool business,
+Don!"
+
+Donald shook his head.
+
+"It will take me longer than this to know the wool business," he
+answered. "I mean when we get home, though, to get father to tell me the
+rest of it--about the selling and manufacturing."
+
+"That part would be new to me too," said Sandy. "Here we have no
+selling; we do not even auction off our own wool, as you see, for our
+clip goes direct to our owners. But when a ranch sells its wool to other
+buyers the manager has lively days, I can tell you. Both Anchor and Star
+Ranch sell to brokers. They send out word that they have wool for sale
+and the Eastern buyers swarm here like flies. They bid on the wool--bid
+right against each other, even though sometimes they are the best of
+friends. The men get an idea of the price they want to pay by looking
+over the fleeces and seeing how they will grade up. Above everything
+else a wool buyer must have a trained eye, quick to detect the quality
+of the shipment offered for sale. That is what decides him on how high
+he will bid. After the buyers have got up to what they consider a
+reasonable price they stop bidding. The wool-grower must then accept the
+highest bid."
+
+"But he may not be satisfied with the price," put in Donald.
+
+"It makes no difference. They are supposed to make a fair bid on the
+clip."
+
+"What if he shouldn't take it?"
+
+"Why, then all the brokers who have bid on the wool leave town pledging
+each other not to bid on that particular shipment of wool for two
+weeks," replied Sandy.
+
+"Why?" inquired Donald, opening his eyes.
+
+"It is to protect the brokers. You can see the justice in it when you
+think a moment. These Easterners are busy men and they come a long way.
+They can't take a trip to some far-off ranch only to find the
+wool-grower has decided not to sell his fleeces; or that he will not
+sell them below a certain price. If a man really does not want to sell
+he must not get the buyers there; if he does he must be content with
+what they offer. Your father would have to buy his wool this way if he
+did not own Crescent Ranch; and even so he may send men to buy wool at
+outside ranches too, for all I know."
+
+"I am going to ask him," Donald said.
+
+"Do not ask him now. He might not want to talk his business over here.
+Wait until you get back East."
+
+"I hate to think of going back home, Sandy," the boy declared, regret in
+his tones.
+
+"All good things must come to an end, lad. You will go back, finish your
+schooling, go to college as your father wishes, and then, a gentleman
+grown, you will be choosing some work."
+
+Sandy studied Donald keenly.
+
+"Yes, I suppose that is just what I shall do. I am thinking some of
+studying law, Sandy."
+
+The Scotchman's face fell, but Donald did not notice it.
+
+"I've always thought I should like to stand up in court and make a great
+plea--a speech that would sweep people off their feet," went on Donald.
+"Or," he added reflectively, "I may be a judge."
+
+Sandy scratched his head.
+
+"There's a good bit step between studying law and being a judge," said
+he.
+
+"Perhaps after all I may decide not to be a judge," ruminated Donald. "I
+have always wanted to manage a baseball team and I may think I would
+rather do that."
+
+"Go on with you!" Sandy cried. "Next you'll be having yourself a
+lighthouse-keeper." Then he added wistfully: "But no matter what you
+are, laddie, dinna forget Crescent Ranch."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+HOME TO THE EAST
+
+
+Within two weeks Thornton, Mr. Clark, and Donald were back in
+Massachusetts, and the thread of Eastern life was once more taken up.
+
+Donald did not return to school, since it was now so near June that to
+enter the class seemed useless; instead it was decided that he should
+have a tutor through the summer to help him make up the work he had
+lost, and thereby enable him to go on with his class in the fall. This
+tutor, however, had to be found, and until he was the boy was free from
+duties of every sort. It gave him a strange sense of loneliness to be
+with nothing to do. All his friends were in school--there was no one to
+play with.
+
+"I think I'll go in to the office with you, father," he suggested one
+morning. "It is stupid staying round in Cambridge when all the fellows
+are slaving for their exams. I have been so busy while out on the ranch
+that now I do not know what to do with myself."
+
+Mr. Clark agreed to the proposal cordially.
+
+In consequence it came about that Donald joined Thornton at the large
+Boston warehouse. The store was not new to the boy, for he had often
+been there with his father; but to Thornton this part of the wool
+business was as novel as the first glimpses of ranching had been to
+Donald. The high building of yellow brick with floor after floor of
+hurrying men, the offices noisy with the hum of typewriters, the ring of
+telephones, the comings and goings of messenger-boys and
+mail-carriers--all this little universe of rush and confusion was an
+untried world to Thornton. Its strangeness dazed him.
+
+Mr. Clark promptly placed him in the accounting department, but to his
+surprise Thornton foundered there helplessly. It was one thing to keep
+books amid the quiet and leisure of Crescent Ranch, and quite another to
+struggle with columns of figures in the riot of modern business
+surroundings. At the end of three days the Westerner looked gray and
+tired, and had accomplished nothing.
+
+"I don't know what I am going to do with him, Don," announced Mr. Clark,
+much troubled. "I have brought him here from Idaho, and of course I am
+bound to look out for him; yet there does not seem to be an earthly
+thing he can do. My plan was to set him to keeping books in Cook's
+place, and send Cook out to Crescent Ranch to help Sandy. Sandy, you
+know, cannot handle accounts. Poor lad--he had little opportunity for
+schooling in his youth, and the financial side of his work is his one
+weak spot. He realizes this himself, and it was only on the condition
+that I send him an assistant that he would undertake the management of
+the ranch at all. I expected, as I say, that Cook would go; evidently,
+however, Thornton is not going to be able to fill his place. What shall
+I do with Thornton, Don? We must find a niche for him somehow."
+
+Donald reflected a moment.
+
+"Had you thought, father, of trying him up-stairs?" he asked.
+
+"No, I hadn't. We need a foreman up there, but I had not considered
+Thornton for the position. That is a happy inspiration, son. We will
+give him a try. He may make good yet."
+
+Accordingly Thornton was sent to the upper floors of the warehouse,
+where the wool was stored. Here were great piles of loose wool reaching
+from floor to ceiling. Some piles contained only the finest wool; other
+piles that which was next-best in quality; still other piles were made
+up of the coarser varieties. There were piles of scoured wool, piles of
+South American and Australian wool--wool, wool, wool everywhere!
+
+With keen interest Thornton looked about him. He wandered from one vast
+pyramid of fleeces to another, catching up handfuls of the different
+varieties and examining them. Then he walked to where the men were busy
+opening the first spring shipments of wool from Crescent Ranch. The
+wool was emptied from the sacks onto the floor in great heaps, and crews
+of men--skilled in judging the fiber--set to work to sort it, separating
+the different qualities into piles. Donald, who was looking on, saw a
+smile pass over Thornton's face--the first smile that had brightened it
+in days. Then, almost instinctively, the ranchman rolled up his sleeves
+and began to grade wool with the other men. He worked rapidly, for he
+was thoroughly familiar with what he was doing.
+
+The next day when Donald went up-stairs he found Thornton directing a
+lot of green hands who were packing the sorted, or graded wool, in bags.
+Later in the week it chanced that the man who weighed the wool fell ill
+and the Westerner took his place at the scales, seeing that the sacks of
+wool were correctly weighed and recorded, that they were sewed up
+strongly, and marked for shipping.
+
+Gradually the men, recognizing Thornton's ability, began to defer to his
+judgment. The month was not out before Clark & Sons began to wonder
+what they had done before Thornton came. So familiar did he make himself
+with the stock that even Mr. Clark sent for and consulted him about
+orders and shipments.
+
+"He is proving himself a thoroughly useful man, Don," declared Mr. Clark
+rubbing his hands with satisfaction. "His knowledge of the ranch and of
+the wool itself is invaluable. It is just a case of putting the peg into
+the proper hole. Thornton was like a fish out of water here in the
+office. Now he is in his element. I shall make him foreman of the
+shipping department--a position just suited to him, and which he will
+fill well."
+
+"I am so glad he has made good, father," said Donald. "Now, what are you
+going to do about an assistant for Sandy? That is the next question to
+settle, I suppose. Have you found any one?"
+
+"Not yet. I have had a great deal to do, Don. I shall, however, look up
+some one as soon as possible. In the meantime, before you start in with
+your tutor, and Thornton gets so rushed that he cannot be spared, I want
+to take you both to Mortonstown to visit the Monitor Mills. Thornton
+has never seen the manufacture of woolen goods and will be the more
+intelligent for doing so; as for you, I am anxious to have you complete
+the story of wool-growing which you began at Crescent Ranch. To stop
+short of visiting a mill now would be like reading the opening chapters
+of a book and never finishing the volume."
+
+"I do want to know the rest of the story very much, father," Donald
+replied. "I told Sandy when I was out West that I hoped you would some
+time take me to a mill. Since we got home, though, you have been so busy
+that I did not like to ask you."
+
+"That was thoughtful of you, son. Ordinarily I should have preferred to
+wait; it chances, however, that something has come up which obliges me
+to see the Monitor people right away. So I shall go out there to-morrow,
+taking Thornton with me, and if you like you may go also."
+
+"Of course I'd like!" exclaimed Donald eagerly.
+
+The next day proved to be so gloriously clear that instead of making
+the trip to Mortonstown by train Mr. Clark decided to run out in his
+touring-car. It was not a long ride--something over twenty-five
+miles--but to Thornton, unaccustomed to the luxury of a modern
+automobile, the journey was one of unalloyed delight.
+
+"It is like riding in a sitting-room on wheels, isn't it?" he murmured
+with a sigh of satisfaction.
+
+"Some day you will be having a car of your own, Thornton," Mr. Clark
+said, smiling.
+
+"And riding to Idaho in it," put in Donald.
+
+"Well, it is about the smoothest way I ever traveled!" declared the
+ranchman. "When we came East I thought that sleeping-car close to a
+moving palace; but this thing has the train beaten to a frazzle. You see
+I am used to jolting over rough roads in springless wagons, and it is
+something new to me to go along as if I was sliding down-hill on a
+velvet sofa-cushion."
+
+Donald and his father heartily enjoyed the big fellow's pleasure.
+
+As for Thornton, when the car came to a stop before the puffing
+Mortonstown mills it was with regret that he dragged himself from the
+seat. Still, he had the ride home in anticipation--that was a comforting
+thought.
+
+Once within the mills, however, even the memory of the homeward journey
+faded from his mind. The vast buildings throbbing with the beat of
+engines, the click and whirr of bobbins, and the clash of machinery,
+blotted out everything else.
+
+When they entered Mr. Munger, the manager, who was expecting them, came
+forward cordially.
+
+"We were glad to hear by telephone that you were coming out to-day, Mr.
+Clark," he said. "Mr. Bailey, the president, is waiting to see you in
+his private office."
+
+"Very well," answered Mr. Clark. "Now while I am talking with him I
+should greatly appreciate it if my son Donald, and my foreman, Mr.
+Thornton, might go over the works. They have never visited a woolen
+mill."
+
+"We shall be delighted to show them about," answered Mr. Munger. "I will
+send some one with them."
+
+Turning, the manager beckoned to a young man who was busy at a desk.
+
+"This gentleman," continued he, "has been with us many years and will be
+able to answer all your questions. Take these visitors through the
+factory, Mac, show them everything, and bring them back here. Now if you
+are ready, Mr. Clark, we will join Mr. Bailey."
+
+Donald and Thornton moved away, following their guide into a building
+just across the yard. Here wool was being sorted by staplers who were
+expert in judging its quality. They worked at frames covered with wire
+netting which allowed the dirt to sift through, and as they handled the
+material and tossed it into the proper piles they picked out straws,
+burrs, and other waste caught in it.
+
+"This sorting must be carefully done," explained the bookkeeper who was
+showing them about, "or the wool will not take the dye well. Much
+depends on having the fleeces clear of waste. We also are very
+particular about the sorting. The finest wool, as you know, comes from
+the sides of the sheep; that clipped from the head and legs is coarse
+and stiff. All this we separate before we send the fleeces on to be
+scoured. In this next room you will see how the material is washed."
+
+They passed on and next saw how steam was blown through the wool, not
+only removing the dirt but softening the fibers. The fleeces were also
+washed in many great bowls of soap and water.
+
+"Here again we must exercise great care that the water is clean and the
+soap pure, or the wool will not dye perfectly. We use a kind of potash
+soap which we are sure is of the best make. Another thing which renders
+the scouring of wool difficult is that we must not curl or snarl it
+while we are washing it."
+
+"I don't see how you can help it," Donald said.
+
+"We can if we take proper care," returned the bookkeeper.
+
+"And what is this other machine for?" inquired Thornton, pointing to one
+at the end of the room.
+
+[Illustration: "WHAT IS THIS OTHER MACHINE?"]
+
+"That machine is picking the wool apart so that the air can get through
+it and help it to dry. After it is picked up light and fluffy we pass
+it through these heavy rollers, which are like wringers and which
+squeeze out the remaining moisture. Yet during all these processes we
+must always be careful not to snarl the wool. See, here is where it
+comes out white and clean, ready to go to the dyeing room."
+
+Donald regarded the snowy fleeces with wonder.
+
+"You would never dream it could be the same wool!" he said. "Isn't it
+beautiful? It is not much the way it looks when it leaves the ranch, is
+it, Thornton?"
+
+"I should say not," agreed the Westerner emphatically. "The sheep ought
+to see how handsome their coats are."
+
+"So they should!" answered the young bookkeeper. "You have been on a
+ranch then?"
+
+"We have just come from one," Donald answered.
+
+"Have you, indeed! It is a free life--not much like being shut up inside
+brick walls."
+
+"You have been West yourself, perhaps," ventured Thornton.
+
+"Yes, years ago--when I was a boy; but not recently."
+
+"Ah, you should see the sheep country now!" Thornton went on. "It is
+much improved, I reckon, since you were there."
+
+"I imagine so," the young guide answered with a wistful smile. "It is so
+long since I have had a breath of real air that I have almost forgotten
+how it would seem."
+
+"If you are wanting fresh air go out on the ranges and fill your lungs.
+You will find plenty there," declared the ranchman.
+
+"That is just what they are trying to make me do," the young man
+replied, "I have not been very well this year and Mr. Munger thinks the
+confinement in the mill is telling on me. He wants me to go West for a
+vacation."
+
+"And should you like to?" questioned Donald.
+
+The man did not answer; instead he said:
+
+"Suppose we go on. We must not waste too much time here. In this next
+room you will see how the dyeing is done. We use centrifugal machines,
+and beside those we have these others to keep the wool spread and
+turned. With all our care not to snarl or curl it, it will get matted
+and must therefore be picked apart again. So we pass it through these
+revolving drums which, you see, have sets of spikes on them; as the
+spikes on the different drums turn they catch in the wool and pick it
+all apart so it is again light and fluffy as it was before."
+
+"Doesn't so much washing and dyeing take out all the yolk, and make the
+wool very dry?" inquired Thornton.
+
+The young man conducting them seemed pleased at the question.
+
+"Yes, it does! That is just the trouble. Therefore we are forced to set
+about getting some oil back into it; otherwise it would be so harsh and
+stiff that we could do nothing with it. So we put the thin layers of
+wool into these machines and carry them along to a spraying apparatus
+which sprays them evenly with oil. We use olive oil, but some other
+manufacturers prefer lard oil or oleine."
+
+"How funny to have to put oil back into the wool after you have just
+washed it out!" Donald remarked.
+
+"It is funny, isn't it?" nodded the bookkeeper. "Now on this side of the
+room they are blending the fleeces. Sometimes we blend different
+qualities of wool to get a desired effect, or sometimes we blend the
+wool with cotton or a different fiber. We take a thin layer of wool,
+then put another layer of a different kind over it. We then pick it all
+up together until we get a uniform mixture."
+
+"It is a surprise to me that the wool has to go through so much red tape
+before it comes to spinning," Thornton said.
+
+"It is a long process," responded their guide. "I remember when I first
+saw it, it seemed endless. Now I think little of it."
+
+"We get used to everything in time, I suppose," Thornton answered; then
+he added whimsically: "Still, I don't think I should ever get used to
+riding in an automobile."
+
+A hearty laugh came from behind them, and turning they saw Mr. Clark and
+Mr. Munger, the manager.
+
+"I came to hunt you up," said Mr. Clark. "I have finished my interview
+with Mr. Bailey, and it seemed to me that by this time you must have
+finished spinning your next-winter's overcoat, Don."
+
+"But I haven't, father," retorted Donald, smiling into his father's
+face. "I have not even begun to make the cloth at all."
+
+"The yarn is not spun yet, sir," put in the young man who was with them.
+
+"You are a slow guide, Mac, I fear," Mr. Munger laughed, laying a kindly
+hand on his bookkeeper's shoulder. "That is the chief fault with you
+Scotchmen--you are too thorough. Now let us hurry along. These gentlemen
+must get back to Boston to-day, you know."
+
+Mr. Munger bustled ahead, conducting his visitors across a bridge and
+into the next mill.
+
+Here was the carding room. Layers of wool entered the carding engine and
+were combed by a multitude of wire teeth until all the fibers lay
+parallel; the thin film of wool then passed into a cone-like opening and
+came out later in a thick strand of untwisted fibers.
+
+"It is now ready to go to the drawing-frames," Mr. Munger explained.
+"You will notice how these drawing-frames pull the wool into shape for
+twisting and spinning, drawing it out to uniform size and finally
+winding it on bobbins. The machine is a complicated one to explain, but
+you can watch and see what it does."
+
+"How wonderful it is that machinery can do all this work," Mr. Clark
+observed thoughtfully.
+
+"Yes, it is," Mr. Munger agreed. "Years ago every part of the process
+was done by hand. Little by little, however, machines have been
+perfected until now we have contrivances that seem almost human. Shall
+we go now and see the yarn spun?"
+
+When they reached the spinning room with its clatter of shifting bobbins
+Mr. Munger turned to Donald.
+
+"I wonder if you know," he said, "that wool is worked into two different
+kinds of yarn--worsted yarn and woolen yarn. The fibers for worsted yarn
+are long and lie nearly parallel, and when woven result in a smooth
+surface. Broadcloth is made from worsted yarn. Woolen yarn, on the
+other hand, has its fibers lying in every direction and all these loose
+ends, when woven, give a rough surface. Of course after the cloth is
+milled it comes out smooth, but it is not as smooth and fine as a
+worsted cloth."
+
+"I think I understand," Donald said. "Are we to see the cloth woven
+next?"
+
+"Yes. You know we weave nothing but woolens; you must go to a worsted
+mill to see the other kinds of cloth made. The processes, though, are
+much alike."
+
+Mr. Munger then hurried the party to the weaving mills, where amid an
+uproar of thousands of moving wheels, bobbins, and shuttles the threads
+of yarn traveled back and forth, back and forth, and came out of the
+looms as cloth. The cloth was then steamed, pressed, and rolled or
+folded.
+
+"And now, young man," announced Mr. Munger to Donald jestingly, "you
+have seen the whole process, and there is no reason why your father
+should not give you some wool and let you make your own cloth for your
+next suit of clothes."
+
+Although Donald was very tired he tried to smile.
+
+"I think," he said, "that I would rather grow the wool on the ranch than
+make it into cloth here. It is far nicer out on the ranges."
+
+"That is what I am trying to tell my young assistant," agreed Mr.
+Munger. "He is getting fagged, aren't you, Mac? You see he was brought
+up in the open country, and much as we think of him, we feel that he
+should go back to the Western mountains."
+
+"Oh, I am all right, Mr. Munger," the bookkeeper hastened to say. "Just
+a bit tired, perhaps--that is all."
+
+"If you are tired you should try the ranges of Idaho," Mr. Clark said.
+"My boy, here, and myself have recently returned from a year in the
+sheep country and feel like new men, don't we, Don? Undoubtedly the life
+there may not be as gay as in the city; still--to quote my manager,
+Sandy McCulloch, 'with bears, bob-cats, and coyotes, I dinna see how it
+could ever be dull.'"
+
+So perfectly had Mr. Clark imitated Sandy's voice and accent that
+Thornton and Donald both laughed. Then they stopped suddenly.
+
+The young bookkeeper had turned very pale and was eying them with a
+startled face.
+
+"Sandy McCulloch!" he repeated. "Did you say Sandy McCulloch, sir?"
+
+"Yes, Sandy McCulloch," answered Mr. Clark. "Do you know him?"
+
+"He must be of your kin, Mac!" interrupted Mr. Munger. "This lad,
+strangely enough, is a McCulloch himself--Douglas McCulloch."
+
+"Then you must be--you are Sandy's brother!" cried Donald.
+
+The young man swayed a little and put out his hand to steady himself.
+
+It seemed to Donald as if he would never speak.
+
+When he did his voice was tremulous with emotion.
+
+"Yes," he replied almost in a whisper. "I am Sandy's brother. Tell me of
+Sandy and of my father."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+DONALD DECIDES
+
+
+It was a wonderful story, Donald thought.
+
+He was never tired of living over how, in visiting the Mortonstown
+mills, they had so unexpectedly found Douglas McCulloch; how, because of
+ill health, he was on the point of going West; and how, with Mr.
+Munger's permission, Mr. Clark had offered him the position as Sandy's
+assistant at Crescent Ranch. It was little short of a miracle that it
+had all come about!
+
+It was interesting, too, to hear what 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 to be a great help to him in his work."
+
+"I am so thankful that I can," replied the younger brother. "Think of
+going once more to Idaho and running that great ranch with him! It is
+more than I deserve."
+
+"Make the most of your good fortune, Douglas," Mr. Clark said, "and do
+not disappoint Sandy and me."
+
+"I will try, sir!" was the humble response.
+
+Douglas McCulloch was as good as his word.
+
+From the moment he and Sandy were united at Crescent Ranch he threw
+himself heart and soul into his new work. The charm of the hills stole
+over him with a fascination they had never held in those far-off days
+when he was a restless boy, eager for the excitement of city life.
+Douglas had had his fling, and he returned to the vast Western land
+older and wiser.
+
+Together he and Sandy set about improving the ranch. They subscribed to
+magazines on sheep-raising; they visited other ranches and kept abreast
+of the times; they installed newer and more hygienic methods of
+wool-growing. Never had Crescent Ranch been so perfectly run. With two
+intelligent and unwearying young men at its head it bid fair to outshine
+the fame it had possessed in Old Angus's day. Gradually men interested
+in sheeping came from far and near to visit it. Clark & Sons began to be
+very proud to be the owners of such a treasure.
+
+Thornton, in the meantime, had become Mr. Clark's right hand man at the
+Eastern office. From foreman he had worked up to being superintendent,
+and had then been promoted to traveling for the firm and selling wool.
+His devotion to Mr. Clark and everything that concerned him was
+unfailing.
+
+During these years Donald had completed his school work; had taken his
+four years at college; and loyal to his early ambition, had entered the
+Law School. If it was a disappointment to his father for him to choose
+the law instead of a business career Mr. Clark did not say so. He kept
+closely in touch with the boy's studies and was proud of the future
+before him.
+
+It was just as everything seemed to be moving so ideally that the first
+great calamity fell upon Clark & Sons. One morning a telegram came from
+Sandy saying that a big fire had swept the ranch, leveling to the ground
+house, barns, and sheep-pens. The blaze had come about through no one's
+carelessness. Lightning had struck the central barn, and before aid
+could be summoned the entire place had been destroyed.
+
+Fortunately no one had been injured. The herders, together with their
+flocks, were on the range; and the crops of alfalfa had not been cut and
+were therefore saved.
+
+"It might have been much worse, Don," said Mr. Clark in reviewing the
+situation. "We have lost no men, no sheep, no hay, no wool. Suppose the
+fire had come in shearing time and had destroyed all the fleeces; or
+suppose the blaze had come about through carelessness and Sandy and
+Douglas had had themselves to blame for it. As it is, it is nobody's
+fault--I am glad of that--and nothing has been lost but can be restored.
+The buildings are well covered by insurance and can be rebuilt during
+the summer. The chief trouble is that all this has happened at a time
+when I am very busy. I ought to go to Idaho, but I hardly see----"
+
+"Can't I go, father?" interrupted Donald quickly. "I don't see why I
+couldn't adjust the insurance and help about having new buildings put
+up. Sandy and Douglas have good judgment, and before I started you could
+tell me just what you want done. Besides," he added shyly, "I am now
+through my first year at the Law School and have some little knowledge
+of legal affairs--that is, I know more than I used to."
+
+Mr. Clark beamed.
+
+"You could go in my place perfectly well, Don, if you are willing to
+give up your summer vacation to it. It would certainly be a great help.
+But how about those house-parties you had planned for?"
+
+"I can decline those, father. I'd be glad to go!" was Donald's reply. "I
+always promised Sandy I would come West again some time, and I should
+really enjoy another glimpse of the hills."
+
+So it was arranged.
+
+Within two days Donald was speeding West, and almost before he realized
+it he was back at Crescent Ranch.
+
+Then came letters for Mr. Clark.
+
+The insurance was adjusted and with the aid of the McCullochs, Donald
+was drawing up plans for new barns--barns with cement floors, and far
+better ventilated and equipped than the old ones had been. Almost every
+day brought to the Eastern office pages and pages of sketches for
+sheep-folds and modern contrivances for lessening the labor of
+wool-growing. Every line of these letters bubbled with enthusiasm. There
+could be no possible question that Donald's heart was in every word he
+wrote.
+
+Summer passed and the time for the beginning of the college term drew
+near.
+
+Mr. Clark began to look for the boy's return.
+
+Still there was no Donald!
+
+Then came another letter:
+
+                 _Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho._
+
+    DEAR FATHER:
+
+    You have been so generous in letting me follow out my own wishes as
+    to my future, that I hardly know how to write you. I hope you will
+    not be disappointed when you hear what I am going to say. The fact
+    is, dad, after thinking the matter well over I have changed my mind
+    about studying law. I have become tremendously interested in
+    Crescent Ranch and in wool-growing, and I am wild to jump into the
+    work.
+
+    If I thought you approved I should like to stay out here and see the
+    buildings finished and then go to Kansas City with Sandy to select
+    more sheep. If, however, you wish me to continue my law course I am
+    perfectly willing to come East and take my degree.
+
+    Please wire.
+
+    Affectionately your son,
+                  DONALD CLARK.
+
+Donald's father read the letter twice. Then he called his stenographer.
+
+"Lawson," he said briskly, "I want to dictate a telegram and have you
+get it off right away. Here is the message:
+
+    "_Mr. Donald Clark,
+        Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho._
+
+    "Cut out the law. Take up sheeping. Three cheers for you!
+
+    "(Signed) WILLARD PAYSON CLARK.
+
+"Now repeat the message."
+
+The stenographer did so.
+
+Mr. Clark chuckled aloud.
+
+"That is O. K., Lawson. Send it along as soon as possible. Oh, and
+Lawson--here is a gold-piece which goes with that telegram. Keep it in
+memory of this day, for it is the happiest one of my life. Mr. Donald is
+coming into Clark & Sons!"
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Story of Wool, by Sara Ware Bassett
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STORY OF WOOL ***
+
+***** This file should be named 24858.txt or 24858.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/8/5/24858/
+
+Produced by La Monte H.P. Yarroll and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/24858.zip b/24858.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..89275b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/24858.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b9fba8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #24858 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24858)