rdy possesses the other qualities which would be called for
in such a man?"

"W'y, sure," responded Creede, waving the matter aside impatiently.
"Go ahead and hire him before he changes his mind."

"Very well then, Mr. Hardy," said the judge resignedly, "the first
requisite in such a man is that he shall please Mr. Creede. And since
he commends you so warmly I hope that you will accept the position.
Let me see--um--would seventy-five dollars a month seem a reasonable
figure? Well, call it seventy-five, then--that's what I pay Mr.
Creede, and I want you to be upon an equality in such matters.

"Now as to your duties. Jefferson will have charge of the cattle, as
usual; and I want you, Mr. Hardy, to devote your time and attention to
this matter of the sheep. Our ranch house at Hidden Water lies almost
directly across the river from one of the principal sheep crossings,
and a little hospitality shown to the shepherds in passing might be
like bread cast upon the waters which comes back an hundred fold after
many days. We cannot hope to get rid of them entirely, but if the
sheep owners would kindly respect our rights to the upper range, which
Mr. Creede will point out to you, I am sure we should take it very
kindly. Now that is your whole problem, Rufus, and I leave the details
entirely in your hands. But whatever you do, be friendly and see if
you can't appeal to their better nature."

He delivered these last instructions seriously and they were so taken
by Hardy, but Creede laughed silently, showing all his white teeth,
yet without attracting the unfavorable attention of the judge, who was
a little purblind. Then there was a brief discussion of details, an
introduction to Mr. Einstein of the New York Store, where Hardy was
given _carte blanche_ for supplies, and Judge Ware swung up on the
west-bound limited and went flying away toward home, leaving his
neighbor's son--now his own superintendent and sheep expert--standing
composedly upon the platform.

"Well," remarked Creede, smiling genially as he turned back to the
hotel, "the Old Man's all right, eh, if he does have fits! He's
good-hearted--and that goes a long ways in this country--but actually,
I believe he knows less about the cattle business than any man in
Arizona. He can't tell a steer from a stag--honest! And I can lose him
a half-mile from camp any day."

The tall cattleman clumped along in silence for a while, smiling over
some untold weakness of his boss