out in some sheltered nook, cache a
little provision and a few sacks of corn, and if the cattle break the
line, we can ride out of snug quarters any morning and check them. It
beats waiting for a wagon and giving the drift a twenty-mile start. We
could lash our blankets on a pack horse and ride it night or day."

"What a long head!" approvingly said Sargent. "Joel, you could almost
eat out of a churn. An emergency camp on the Prairie Dog is surely a
meaty idea. But that's for next winter, and beef shipping's on in full
blast right now. Let's ride; supper's waiting on the Beaver."

CHAPTER XXI

LIVING IN THE SADDLE

The glow of a smouldering camp-fire piloted the returning horsemen
safely to their wagon. A good night's rest fitted them for the task of
the day, which began at sunrise. The next shipment would come from the
flotsam of the year before, many of which were heavy beeves, intended
for army delivery, but had fallen footsore on the long, drouthy march.
The past winter had favored the lame and halt, and after five months of
summer, the bulk of them had matured into finished beef.

By shipping the different contingents separately, the brothers were
enabled to know the situation at all times. No accounts were kept, but
had occasion required, either Joel or Dell could have rendered a
statement from memory of returns on the double and single wintered, as
well as on the purchased cattle. Sale statements were furnished by the
commission house, and by filing these, an account of the year's
shipments, each brand separate, could be made up at the end of
the season.

The early struggle of Wells Brothers, in stocking their range, was now
happily over. Instead of accepting the crumbs which fell as their
portion, their credit and resources enabled them to choose the class of
cattle which promised growth and quick returns. The range had proven
itself in maturing beef, and the ranch thereafter would carry only
sufficient cows to quiet and pacify its holdings of cattle.

"If this was my ranch," said Sargent to the brothers at breakfast, "I'd
stock it with two-year-old steers and double-winter every hoof. Look
over those sale statements and you'll see what two winters mean. That
first shipment of Lazy H's was as fat as mud, and yet they netted seven
dollars a head less than those rag-tag, double-wintered ones. There's a
waste that must be saved hereafter."

"That's our intention," said Joel. "We'll ship out every h