n," announced Mr. Munger to Donald jestingly, "you
have seen the whole process, and there is no reason why your father
should not give you some wool and let you make your own cloth for your
next suit of clothes."

Although Donald was very tired he tried to smile.

"I think," he said, "that I would rather grow the wool on the ranch than
make it into cloth here. It is far nicer out on the ranges."

"That is what I am trying to tell my young assistant," agreed Mr.
Munger. "He is getting fagged, aren't you, Mac? You see he was brought
up in the open country, and much as we think of him, we feel that he
should go back to the Western mountains."

"Oh, I am all right, Mr. Munger," the bookkeeper hastened to say. "Just
a bit tired, perhaps--that is all."

"If you are tired you should try the ranges of Idaho," Mr. Clark said.
"My boy, here, and myself have recently returned from a year in the
sheep country and feel like new men, don't we, Don? Undoubtedly the life
there may not be as gay as in the city; still--to quote my manager,
Sandy McCulloch, 'with bears, bob-cats, and coyotes, I dinna see how it
could ever be dull.'"

So perfectly had Mr. Clark imitated Sandy's voice and accent that
Thornton and Donald both laughed. Then they stopped suddenly.

The young bookkeeper had turned very pale and was eying them with a
startled face.

"Sandy McCulloch!" he repeated. "Did you say Sandy McCulloch, sir?"

"Yes, Sandy McCulloch," answered Mr. Clark. "Do you know him?"

"He must be of your kin, Mac!" interrupted Mr. Munger. "This lad,
strangely enough, is a McCulloch himself--Douglas McCulloch."

"Then you must be--you are Sandy's brother!" cried Donald.

The young man swayed a little and put out his hand to steady himself.

It seemed to Donald as if he would never speak.

When he did his voice was tremulous with emotion.

"Yes," he replied almost in a whisper. "I am Sandy's brother. Tell me of
Sandy and of my father."

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XIII

DONALD DECIDES

It was a wonderful story, Donald thought.

He was never tired of living over how, in visiting the Mortonstown
mills, they had so unexpectedly found Douglas McCulloch; how, because of
ill health, he was on the point of going West; and how, with Mr.
Munger's permission, Mr. Clark had offered him the position as Sandy's
assistant at Crescent Ranch. It was little short of a miracle that it
had all come about!

It was interesting, too, to hear w