d winter, as winters go, but the loss of cows had
been above the average and the crop of calves below, and Billy for
the first time faced squarely the fact that, in the cattle business
as well as in others, there are downs to match the ups. In his castle
building, and so far in his realization of his dreams, he had not
taken much account of the downs.

Thus it was that, when they swung back from the reservation and camped
for a day upon lower Burnt Willow, he felt a great yearning for the
ranch and for sight of the girl who lived there. For excuses he had
the mail and the natural wish to consult with Dill, so that, when
he saddled Barney and told Jim Bleeker to keep things moving till
to-morrow or the day after, he had the comfortable inner assurance
that there were no side-glances or smiles and no lowered lids when he
rode away. For Charming Billy, while he would have faced the ridicule
of a nation if that were the price he must pay to win his deep desire,
was yet well pleased to go on his way unwatched and unneeded.

Since the Double-Crank ranch lay with Burnt Willow Creek loitering
through the willows within easy gunshot of the corrals, Billy's trail
followed the creek except in its most irresponsible windings, when he
would simplify his journey by taking straight as might be across the
prairie. It was after he had done this for the second time and had
come down to the creek through a narrow, yellow-clay coulee that he
came out quite suddenly upon a thing he had not before seen.

Across the creek, which at that point was so narrow that a horse could
all but clear it in a running jump, lay the hills, a far-reaching
ocean of fertile green. Good grazing it was, as Billy well knew.
In another day the Double-Crank riders would be sweeping over it,
gathering the cattle; at least, that had been his intent. He looked
across and his eyes settled immediately upon a long, dotted line drawn
straight away to the south; at the far end a tiny huddle of figures
moved indeterminately, the details of their business blunted by the
distance. But Charming Billy, though he liked them little, knew well
when he looked upon a fence in the building. The dotted line he read
for post holes and the distant figures for the diggers.

While his horse drank he eyed the line distrustfully until he
remembered his parting advice to Dill. "Dilly's sure getting a move on
him," he decided, estimating roughly the size of the tract which
that fence, whe