urtains at the end of the wagon were parted and fastened back and
inside Donald could catch a glimpse of Manuel, the Mexican cook, busily
preparing the food. A curl of faint smoke rose from the tin pipe which
protruded through the canvas, arching the top of the wagon. Then as
Donald looked, into the clearing came the erect figure of his father.

[Illustration: THE PANTING PONY STOOD STILL]

The boy gave a shrill whistle on his fingers and touched the spurs to
his horse's flank.

"Father!" he called.

Another moment and the panting pony stood still near the wagon, his
sides heaving.

Donald dismounted and ran to meet his father.

"Well, well!" was Mr. Clark's first exclamation. "How is this? I sent a
pale-faced American boy to the range and I get an Indian in exchange!"

"I suppose I am tanned," laughed Donald. "I know my hands are. As for my
face--I have not seen it since I started. We don't have looking-glasses
in the hills."

"And you enjoyed your trip?"

"I had the time of my life, father! It is simply bully up there. I wish
you had been along."

"I am planning to go back with you in two or three weeks. It seemed a
pity to bring you down, but I did need you, Don. If it had only been
that I missed you I should not have sent, no matter how much I wanted to
see you."

"I was glad to come, sir. How is everything at Crescent?"

"Going well. We are getting in a big crop of alfalfa from the south
meadow. That is why I wanted you. You will now have to turn farmer and
pitch hay for a while."

"All right!"

And that was what Donald did. For the next few weeks he was busy helping
his father harvest the first crop of alfalfa grass, drying it, and
storing it away in the great sprawling barn of the home ranch for winter
feed. Days of hard work were succeeded by nights of heavy slumber. Life
was very real. The boy was doing something--something that
told--something that was of use to other persons; he had a place to
fill, duties for which he was responsible. Continually he found himself
speaking of "our ranch" and suggesting to his father that "we" do such
and such things.

Mr. Clark rubbed his hands with satisfaction. Although he and Donald had
always preserved a close comradeship no experience had ever drawn them
so near together as had this common interest. It was happiness to each
of them. From the time the boy tumbled out of bed in the early morning
until he tumbled in again at dusk his whistle could be hea