e boss's son
has been put on as foreman. Three of the boys quit. Couldn't stand him.
This hyar son of Belllounds is a son-of-a-gun! Me an' pards of mine,
Montana an' Bludsoe, are stickin' on--wal, fer reasons thet ain't
egzactly love fer the boss. But Old Bill's the best of bosses.... Now
the hunch is--thet if you git on hyar you'll hev to do two or three
men's work."

"Much obliged," replied Wade. "I don't shy at that."

"Wal, git down an' come in," added Billings, heartily.

He led the way across the square, around the corner of the ranch-house,
and up on a long porch, where the arrangement of chairs and blankets
attested to the hand of a woman. The first door was open, and from it
issued voices; first a shrill, petulant boy's complaint, and then a
man's deep, slow, patient reply.

Lem Billings knocked on the door-jamb.

"Wal, what's wanted?" called Belllounds.

"Boss, thar's a man wantin' to see you," replied Lem.

Heavy steps approached the doorway and it was filled with the large
figure of the rancher. Wade remembered Belllounds and saw only a gray
difference in years.

"Good mornin', Lem, an' good moinin' to you, stranger," was the
rancher's greeting, his bold, blue glance, honest and frank and keen,
with all his long experience of men, taking Wade in with one flash.

Lem discreetly walked to the end of the porch as another figure, that of
the son who resembled the father, filled the doorway, with eyes less
kind, bent upon the visitor.

"My name's Wade. I'm over from Meeker way, hopin' to find a job with
you," said Wade.

"Glad to meet you," replied Belllounds, extending his huge hand to shake
Wade's. "I need you, sure bad. What's your special brand of work?"

"I reckon any kind."

"Set down, stranger," replied Belllounds, pulling up a chair. He seated
himself on a bench and leaned against the log wall. "Now, when a boy
comes an' says he can do anythin', why I jest haw! haw! at him. But
you're a man, Wade, an' one as has been there. Now I'm hard put fer
hands. Jest speak out now fer yourself. No one else can speak fer you,
thet's sure. An' this is bizness."

"Any work with stock, from punchin' steers to doctorin' horses," replied
Wade, quietly. "Am fair carpenter an' mason. Good packer. Know farmin'.
Can milk cows an' make butter. I've been cook in many outfits. Read an'
write an' not bad at figures. Can do work on saddles an' harness, an-"

"Hold on!" yelled Belllounds, with a hearty laugh. "I