to home, working for his mother, and
playing less than any time before.

"I heard Dick say he'd kill you someday," said one cowboy seriously.
"An' take it from me, kid, he's a bad hombre."

"Ah-uh!" was all the reply Pan vouchsafed, as he walked away. He did
not like to be reminded of Dick. It sent an electric spark to the
deep-seated smoldering mine in his breast.

When springtime came Pan joined the roundup in earnest, for part of the
cattle and outfit now belonged to his father. Out on the range the
forty riders waited for the wagons. There were five cowboys from Big
Sandy in Pan's bunch and several more arrived from the Crow Roost
country. Old Dutch John, a famous range character, was driving the
chuck wagon. At one time he had been a crony of Pan's father, and that
attracted Pan to the profane old grizzled cook. He could not talk
without swearing and, if he replied to a question that needed only yes
or no, he would supplement it with a string of oaths.

Next day the outfit rode the west side of Dobe Creek, rounding up
perhaps a thousand cattle. Pete Blaine and Hookey roped calves while
Pan helped hold up.

On the following day the riders circled Blue Lakes, where cattle
swarmed. Old John had yelled to the boys: "Hey, punchers, heave at
them today. You gotta throw an awful mess of 'em heah."

These two lakes were always dry, except during the spring; and now they
were full, with green grass blanketing the range as far as eye could
see. By Monday long lines of cattle moved with flying dust down to the
spot chosen for the roundup. As the herds closed in, the green range
itself seemed to be moving. When thrown together all these cattle
formed a sea of red and white, from which roared an incessant bawling.
It looked impossible to separate cows and calves from the others. But
dozens of fearless cowboys, riding in here and in there, soon began to
cut out the cows and calves.

It was a spectacle that inspired Pan as never before. The wagons were
lined up near the lake, their big white canvas tops shining in the
afternoon sun, and higher on a bench stood the "hoodelum" or bed wagon,
so stocked with bedrolls that it resembled a haystack. Beyond the
margin of the lake, four hundred fine saddle horses grazed and kicked
and bit at one another. Beyond the saddle horses grazed the day herd
of cattle. And over on the other side dinned the melee over the main
herd, the incessant riding, yelling of the cow