oy
an' his father has big ranchin' interests. I've saved a little money an'
I'm no spring chicken any more. Wils has begun to buy an' sell stock, so
I reckon I'll go in with him."

"Ahuh!" Belllounds gave a grunt of comprehension. He frowned, and his
big eyes set seriously upon the blazing fire. He grasped complications
in this information.

"Wal, it's a free country," he said at length, and evidently his
personal anxieties were subjected to his sense of justice. "Owin' to the
peculiar circumstances hyar at my range, I'd prefer thet Moore an' you
began somewhar else. Thet's natural. But you've my good will to start on
an' I hope I've yours."

"Belllounds, you've every man's good will," replied Wade. "I hope you
won't take offense at my leavin'. You see I'm on Wils Moore's side
in--in what you called these peculiar circumstances. He's got nobody
else. An' I reckon you can look back an' remember how you've taken sides
with some poor devil an' stuck to him. Can't you?"

"Wal, I reckon I can. An' I'm not thinkin' less of you fer speakin' out
like thet."

"All right. Now about the dogs. I turn the pack over to you, an' it's a
good one. I'd like to buy Fox."

"Buy nothin', man. You can have Fox, an' welcome."

"Much obliged," returned the hunter, as he turned to go. "Fox will sure
be help for me. Belllounds, I'm goin' to round up this outfit that's
rustlin' your cattle. They're gettin' sort of bold."

"Wade, you'll do thet on your own hook?" asked the rancher, in surprise.

"Sure. I like huntin' men more than other varmints. Then I've a personal
interest. You know the hint about homesteaders hereabouts reflects some
on Wils Moore."

"Stuff!" exploded the rancher, heartily. "Do you think any cattleman in
these hills would believe Wils Moore a rustler?"

"The hunch has been whispered," said Wade. "An' you know how all
ranchers say they rustled a little on the start."

"Aw, hell! Thet's different. Every new rancher drives in a few unbranded
calves an' keeps them. But stealin' stock--thet's different. An' I'd as
soon suspect my own son of rustlin' as Wils Moore."

Belllounds spoke with a sincere and frank ardor of defense for a young
man once employed by him and known to be honest. The significance of the
comparison he used had not struck him. His was the epitome of a
successful rancher, sure in his opinions, speaking proudly and
unreflectingly of his own son, and being just to another man.

Wade bowed and backe