strokes of a great knife, and the Chinese boy added the vegetables from
a side table. As the meat disappeared the call of appetite became less
insistent.

"She's been a great summer, ain't she?" said the rancher, laying down
his knife and fork and lifting the carver. "Transley, some more meat?
Pshaw, you ain't et enough for a chicken. Linder? That's right, pass
up your plate. Powerful dry, though. That's only a small bit; here's
a better slice here. Dry summers gen'rally mean open winters, but you
can't never tell. Zen, how 'bout you? Old Y.D.'s been too long on the
job to take chances. Mother? How much did you say, Transley? About two
thousand tons? Not enough. Don't care if I do,"--helping himself to
another piece of beef.

"I think you'll find two thousand tons, good hay and good measurement,"
said Transley.

"I'm sure of it," rejoined his host, generously. "I'm carryin' more
steers than usual, and'll maybe run in a bunch of doggies from Manitoba
to boot. I got to have more hay."

So the meal progressed, the rancher furnishing both the hospitality and
the conversation. Transley occasionally broke in to give assent to
some remark, but his interruption was quite unnecessary. It was Y.D.'s
practice to take assent for granted. Once or twice the women interjected
a lead to a different subject of conversation in which their words would
have carried greater authority, but Y.D. instantly swung it back to the
all-absorbing topic of hay.

The Chinese boy served a pudding of some sort, and presently the meal
was ended.

"She's been a dry summer--powerful dry," said the rancher, with a wink
at his guests. "Zen, I think there's a bit of gopher poison in there
yet, ain't there?"

The girl left the room without remark, returning shortly with a jug and
glasses, which she placed before her father.

"I suppose you wear a man's size, Transley," he said, pouring out a big
drink of brown liquor, despite Transley's deprecating hand. "Linder, how
many fingers? Two? Well, we'll throw in the thumb. Y.D? If you please,
just a little snifter. All set?"

The rancher rose to his feet, and the company followed his example.

"Here's ho!--and more hay," he said, genially.

"Ho!" said Linder.

"The daughter of the Y.D!" said Transley, looking across the table at
the girl. She met his eyes full; then, with a gleam of white teeth, she
raised an empty glass and clinked it against his.

The men drained their glasses and re-seated them