were on the range; and the crops of alfalfa had not been cut and
were therefore saved.

"It might have been much worse, Don," said Mr. Clark in reviewing the
situation. "We have lost no men, no sheep, no hay, no wool. Suppose the
fire had come in shearing time and had destroyed all the fleeces; or
suppose the blaze had come about through carelessness and Sandy and
Douglas had had themselves to blame for it. As it is, it is nobody's
fault--I am glad of that--and nothing has been lost but can be restored.
The buildings are well covered by insurance and can be rebuilt during
the summer. The chief trouble is that all this has happened at a time
when I am very busy. I ought to go to Idaho, but I hardly see----"

"Can't I go, father?" interrupted Donald quickly. "I don't see why I
couldn't adjust the insurance and help about having new buildings put
up. Sandy and Douglas have good judgment, and before I started you could
tell me just what you want done. Besides," he added shyly, "I am now
through my first year at the Law School and have some little knowledge
of legal affairs--that is, I know more than I used to."

Mr. Clark beamed.

"You could go in my place perfectly well, Don, if you are willing to
give up your summer vacation to it. It would certainly be a great help.
But how about those house-parties you had planned for?"

"I can decline those, father. I'd be glad to go!" was Donald's reply. "I
always promised Sandy I would come West again some time, and I should
really enjoy another glimpse of the hills."

So it was arranged.

Within two days Donald was speeding West, and almost before he realized
it he was back at Crescent Ranch.

Then came letters for Mr. Clark.

The insurance was adjusted and with the aid of the McCullochs, Donald
was drawing up plans for new barns--barns with cement floors, and far
better ventilated and equipped than the old ones had been. Almost every
day brought to the Eastern office pages and pages of sketches for
sheep-folds and modern contrivances for lessening the labor of
wool-growing. Every line of these letters bubbled with enthusiasm. There
could be no possible question that Donald's heart was in every word he
wrote.

Summer passed and the time for the beginning of the college term drew
near.

Mr. Clark began to look for the boy's return.

Still there was no Donald!

Then came another letter:

_Crescent Ranch, Glen City, Idaho._

DEAR FATHER: