f our earnest attention to
your interests.

"Yours sincerely,

"BARRETT, JONES, BARRETT, DEACON & BARRETT."

"Well, I guess it means you've struck oil, and I've lost a good
foreman," said Landson, as he returned the letter. "I'm sorry about your
loss, Grant, and glad to hear of your good luck, if I may put it that
way."

"No particular good luck that I can see," Grant protested. "I came west
to get away from all that bothering nuisance, and now I've got to go
back and take it all up again. I feel badly about Dad and the kid;
they were decent, only they didn't understand me.... I suppose I didn't
understand them, either. At any rate they didn't wish this on me. They
had quite other plans."

"What do you reckon she's worth?" Landson asked, after waiting as long
as his patience would permit.

"Oh, I don't know. Possibly six or eight millions by this time."

"Six or eight millions! Jehoshaphat! What will you do with it?"

"Look after it. Mr. Landson, you know that I have never worried about
money; if I had I wouldn't be here. I figure that the more money a man
has the greater are his responsibilities and his troubles; worse than
that, his wealth excites the jealousy of the public and even the envy
of his friends. It builds a barrier around him, shutting out all those
things which are really most worth while. It makes him the legitimate
prey of the unprincipled. I know all these things, and it is because I
know them that I sought happiness out here on the ranges, where perhaps
some people are rich and some are poor, but they all think alike
and live alike and are part of one community and stand together in a
pinch--and out here I have found happiness. Now I'm going back to the
other job. I don't care for the money, but any son-of-a-gun who takes it
from me is a better man than I am, and I'll sit up nights at both ends
of the day to beat him at his own game. Now, just as soon as you can
line up someone to take charge I'll have to beat it."

The news of Grant's fortune spread rapidly, and many were the
congratulations from his old cow puncher friends; congratulations,
for the most part, without a suggestion of envy in them. Grant put his
affairs in order as quickly as possible, and started for the East with a
trunkful of clothes. But even before he started one thought had risen up
to haunt him. He crushed it down, but it would insist. If only this had
happened a year ago....

Dennison Grant's mother had died in