ay, might get sick myself, and I want to
be a stockholder in this hospital of yours. What's your favorite
color in cows?"

Joel's caution caused him to hesitate. "If you have one, send me a
milk-white cow _with a black face_" instantly said Forrest. "White cows
are rich in cream, and I'm getting peevish, having to drink
black coffee."

"A white cow for you," said Straw, nodding to Forrest, "and what color
for you?" But Joel, although half convinced, made no answer.

"Send him a red one," authorized Forrest; "red steers bring a dollar a
head more than mongrel colors."

"A red cow and calf for Joel, a white one for milk, and Dell can pick
his own," said Straw, murmuring a memorandum. "Now, that little passel
of cripples, and odds and ends," again nodding to Forrest, "that I'm
sawing off on you, I'll bring them up with the cows. Yes, I'm coming
back and stay all night."

Joel lost all doubts on the moment. The trail boss was coming back, was
going to bring each one a cow. There was no question but that this
stranger had the cattle in his possession; surely he would not trifle
with his own people, with an unfortunate, wounded man. All this seemed
so in keeping with the partial outline of Priest, the old gray-haired
foreman, that the boy's caution gave place to firm belief. If generous
princes ever walked the earth, it was just possible that liberal ones in
the rough were still riding it in disguise.

Joel hastened to his brother with the news. "It's all right," said he,
throwing the saddle on Straw's horse. "You go right along with this
strange foreman. He gave Mr. Quince a milk cow, a white one, and you're
to pick one for yourself. If I were going in your place, I'd pick a red
one; red cattle are worth a dollar a head more than any other color."

There was something in Joel's voice that told Dell that his brother had
not been forgotten. "And you?--don't you?" stammered the younger boy.

"Mr. Quince picked out a cow and calf for me," replied Joel, with a
loftiness that two years' seniority confers on healthy boys. "I left it
to him to choose mine. You'd better pick out a red one. And say, this
hospital of ours is the real thing. It's the only one between Dodge and
Ogalalla. This strange foreman wants to take stock in it. I wonder if
that was what he meant by sawing off a little passel of cattle on Mr.
Quince. Now, don't argue or ask foolish questions, but keep your eyes
and ears open."

Fortified anew in courage,