-wagons of various degrees of decay
stood by the gate, and in the barn-yard plows and harrows--deeply buried
by the weeds--were rusting forlornly away. A little farther up the stream
the tall pipe of a sawmill rose above the firs.

A pack of dogs of all sizes and signs came clamoring to the fence,
followed by a big, slovenly dressed, red-bearded man of sixty or
thereabouts.

"Hello, Uncle Joe," called the girl, in offhand boyish fashion. "How are
you _to-day_?"

"Howdy, girl," answered Meeker, gravely. "What brings you up here this
time?"

She laughed. "Here's a boarder who wants to learn how to raise cattle."

Meeker's face lightened. "I reckon you're Mr. Norcross? I'm glad to see
ye. Light off and make yourself to home. Turn your horses into the
corral, the boys will feed 'em."

"Am I in America?" Norcross asked himself, as he followed the slouchy old
rancher into the unkempt yard. "This certainly is a long way from New
Haven."

Without ceremony Meeker led his guests directly into the dining-room, a
long and rather narrow room, wherein a woman and six or seven roughly
dressed young men were sitting at a rudely appointed table.

"Earth and seas!" exclaimed Mrs. Meeker. "Here's Berrie, and I'll bet
that's Sutler's friend, our boarder."

"That's what, mother," admitted her husband. "Berrie brought him up."

"You'd ought 'o gone for him yourself, you big lump," she retorted.

Mrs. Meeker, who was as big as her husband, greeted Norcross warmly, and
made a place for him beside her own chair.

"Highst along there, boys, and give the company a chance," she commanded,
sharply. "Our dinner's turrible late to-day."

The boys--they were in reality full-grown cubs of eighteen or twenty--did
as they were bid with much noise, chaffing Berrie with blunt humor. The
table was covered with a red oil-cloth, and set with heavy blue-and-white
china. The forks were two-tined, steel-pronged, and not very polished,
and the food was of the simplest sort; but the girl seemed at home
there--as she did everywhere--and was soon deep in a discussion of the
price of beef, and whether it was advisable to ship now or wait a month.

Meeker read Sutler's letter, which Norcross had handed him, and, after
deliberation, remarked: "All right, we'll do the best we can for you, Mr.
Norcross; but we haven't any fancy accommodations."

"He don't expect any," replied Berrie. "What he needs is a little
roughing it."

"There's plinty of that to