the Valley. They left me to look after the
blooming squawking baby. That just got me real mad, so when it started
in to bawl, I sat down and wrote a note saying I was through. I pinned
it to the baby,--and, here I am.

"Don't you think I did the right thing?"

"You bet!" answered Phil, striving hard to suppress his bubbling
merriment.

"They cawn't make me serve my three years out, can they, Phil?"
queried DeRue Hannington, anxiously.

"Not they! Why, all they wanted was your five hundred dollars. They'll
be glad to be quit of you."

The Englishman perked up.

"They're welcome to the money. But I'm not through rawnching, you
know. You see I've got the worst over now and I'm feeling quite a
Westerner. You don't happen to know anyone who has a good rawnch for
sale?--one with a decent sort of a house and stables, and lots of
fruit trees on it. I've got the money in the bank, you know, and could
pay cash for it. I really think I could run a rawnch now."

"No,--I haven't the slightest idea!" returned Phil. "But it shouldn't
be a hard job getting a ranch, if you have the money. There are always
lots of people ready to sell goods for cash. Take my advice, though;
don't be in too great a hurry."

Phil rose to go.

DeRue Hannington followed him to the saloon, where Phil shook hands
and left him.

As he passed out at the door he heard the voice of the stranger raised
above the general conversation of the saloon.

"Excuse me, but have any of you good fellows any idea where a chap
could buy a good rawnch for cash?"

Phil threw up his hands in despair and walked on, knowing that
Percival DeRue Hannington had still a lot to learn about ranching and
about those who had ranches to sell.

CHAPTER VII

Wild Man Hanson Goes Wild

Jim Langford was waiting for Phil at Mrs. Clunie's.

"Where the Sam Hill have you been, Phil? I've been looking for you
everywhere. Got a job yet?"

"No,--not even the scent of one!"

"Want one?"

"You bet!"

"Hard work and start to-morrow?"

"Sure thing! Where is it? what is it? who is it? Tell me quick! I'm
aching to work for real money, for more reasons than one."

"Royce Pederstone, the blacksmith, is quitting being an active
blacksmith any more. He is putting Wildman Hanson in charge, and
Hanson's job is going a-begging."

"Wildman Hanson! That sounds good for a start, Jim."

"And it's as good as it sounds, too, young fellow, my lad. I'm not
going to tell you anythi