aby, and
I would much rather get my own hat and stick; I never had the chance,
though. I'd turn and find him just back of my elbow, with the things in
his hands and that damned righteous look on his face, and generally I'd
swear he did get on my nerves so.

I'm afraid I ruined him for a good servant, and taught him habits of
idleness he'll never outgrow; for every morning I'd send him below--I
won't state the exact destination, but I have reasons for thinking he
never got farther than the servants' hall--with strict--and for the most
part profane--orders not to show his face again unless I rang. Even at
that, I always found him waiting up for me when I came home. Oh, there was
no changing the ways of Rankin.

I think it was about the middle of May when my general discontent with
life in the old burgh took a virulent form. I'd been losing a lot one way
and another, and Barney and I had come together literally and with much
force when we were having a spurt with our cars out toward Ingleside. The
Yellow Peril looked pretty sick when I picked myself out of the mess and
found I wasn't hurt except in my feelings. Barney's car only had the lamps
smashed, and as he had run into me, that made me sore. We said things, and
I caught a street-car back to town. Barney drove in, about as hot as
I was, I guess.

So, when I got home and found a letter from Frosty, my mind was open for
something new. The letter was short, but it did the business and gave me
a hunger for the old days that nothing but a hard gallop over the
prairie-lands, with the wind blowing the breath out of my nostrils, could
satisfy. He said the round-up would start in about a week. That was about
all, but I got up and did something I'd never done before.

I took the letter and went straight down to dad's private den and
interrupted him when he was going over his afternoon letters with
Crawford. Dad was very particular not to be interrupted at such times; his
mail-hours were held sacred, and nothing short of a life-or-death matter
would have taken me in there--in any normal state of mind.

Crawford started out of his chair--if you knew Crawford that one action
would tell you a whole lot--and dad whirled toward me and asked what had
happened. I think they both expected to hear that the house was on fire.

"The round-up starts next week, dad," I blurted, and then stopped. It just
occurred to me that it might not sound important to them.

Dad matched his finger-t