all the work. I'll discharge him after this round-up, that's what I'll
do. Might have known better than to hire one of them copper-skins!"

Roy, whose father owned the Triple O ranch, had come out on this
round-up about a week previously. On all big ranches it is the custom,
at stated intervals to send out a party of men to round-up, or gather
together, in herds, the cattle or horses that may have strayed to
distant pastures.

Sometimes a week or more is spent on this work, the men sleeping out of
doors, and making camp wherever darkness overtakes them. During the
night they take turns riding around the cattle, to keep them from
straying away.

Day by day the herd is driven nearer the ranch, until they are either
placed in corrals, which are big pens, or are counted, brands put on
the new calves, and turned out again, to roam about over the immense
pastures, and fatten up for the market.

Mr. Bradner was an extensive ranch owner, and had several herds of
cattle. He was considered quite wealthy, but he had made his money by
hard work, having very little when he first went out west with his wife
and little boy. His wife had died soon after he reached Colorado, and,
after his baby days, Roy had been brought up by his father.

The boy liked the life on the ranch, and was fast becoming an expert
along cattle lines. He was a good judge of steers and horses, and,
while he knew nothing of city ways, never since a mere infant having
been in anything larger than a town, and not having traveled more than
a few miles, there was nothing about life on the plains but what he was
acquainted with.

After much hard riding Roy managed to get that part of the herd
entrusted to the Indian, into compact form. Then he came back to his
companion, who was riding along as if he had nothing more to think
about than keeping his cigarette lighted.

"Hu! Heap smart boy!" grunted Low Bull. "Know how make steers travel."

"I should think you would know how to do it too," said Roy. "You've
always lived on the plains."

"Too much work. Indian no like work. Like sit an' think, an' smoke.
No like work."

"Everybody's got to work in this world, Low Bull."

"Rich man no work. Me like be rich man."

"But the man sure had to work hard to get rich. I s'pose rich men feel
that they can take life easy after they have earned a fortune."

"Indian no like work. Drive cattle too hard. Me quit soon," was all
Low Bull replied.

"Yes,