oan. Reid had all the advantage of him in prospects; he could lift up
the curtain on his day and show Joan the splendors of a world that a
schoolmaster could point out only from afar. Mackenzie seemed to
ignore the youth's suggestion that he go and tend Dad's flock.

"If I had a thousand dollars I'd dust it for Mexico tomorrow," said
Reid. He turned to Mackenzie, pushing his hat back from his forehead,
letting the sun on his savagely knotted face. "I haven't got money to
send a telegram, not even a special delivery letter! Look at me! A
millionaire's son and sole heir, up against a proposition like this
for three years!"

Mackenzie let him sweat it out, offering neither water for his thirst
nor wood for his fire. Reid sat in surly silence, running his thumb
along his cartridge belt.

"A man's friends forget him out here," he complained; "he's the same
to them as dead."

"It's the way everywhere when a man wants to borrow money," Mackenzie
told him, not without the shade of a sneer.

"I've let them have enough in my time that they could afford to come
across with what I asked for!"

"I think you'd better stick to the sheep business with Tim,"
Mackenzie advised, not unkindly, ashamed of his momentary weakness and
scorn. "A man's prospects don't look very good back home when a bunch
of parasites and grafters won't come over with a little loan."

"They can go to the devil! I can live without them."

"And get fat on it, kid. Three years here will be little more to you
than as many days, if you get--interested."

Reid exclaimed impatiently, dismissing such assurance with a testy
gesture.

"How much will you give me for my chances?" he asked.

"Nobody else can play your hand, kid."

"On the square, Mackenzie. Will you give me a thousand dollars?"

"I'm not sole heir to any millionaire," Mackenzie reminded him, taking
the proposal in the jesting spirit that he supposed it was given.

"On the dead, Mackenzie--I mean it. Will you give me a thousand
dollars for my place in the sheep game, girl and all? If you will,
I'll hit the breeze tonight for Mexico and kick it all over to you,
win or lose."

"If I could buy you out for a dime we couldn't trade," Mackenzie told
him, a coldness in tone and manner that was more than a reproof.

"Joan ought to be worth that much to you!" Reid sneered.

Mackenzie got up, walked a few steps away, turned back presently, his
temper in hand.

"It's not a question open to discuss