"Did his share—some over, mebbe. He ’s a hard nut." "Well, I ’m not bad at a pinch, myself, Ned; mebbe I can crack him." Ned smiled grimly at the jest and hoped he would be cracked good. Evidently there was no great liking between the quondam owners of the Double Y. However, this was not apparent in their greeting. The steady approach had been uninterrupted and Buck looked with interest at the "hard nut" as they met. In a land of dirty men—dirty far more frequently from necessity than from choice—Schatz was a by-word for slovenliness nearly approaching filth. If he washed at all it left no impression on the caked corrugations of his smiling countenance. His habit of smiling was constant, so much a part of him that it gave him his name. And it had been solemnly affirmed by one of his men that he never interfered with his face until the dirt interfered with his smile; then he chipped it off with a cold chisel and hammer. This must have been slander: no one had ever seen him when it looked chipped. A big man, with a fine head, he sat in his saddle with the careless ease of long practice. "Hello, Ned!" he called, with a gay wave of the hand. "_Wie geht’s_?" "Howdy, Karl!" replied Ned. "How’s sheep?" "Ach! don’t say it, der grasshoppers. Never vill dey reach Big Moose. Also, I send East a good man to talk mit dat McAllister to lease der range yet. Before now he say a manager come from Texas, soon. Vat iss Texas like Montana? Nodding. Ven der snow come—" "Hol’ on! This is th’ manager, Mr. Buck Peters, half owner o’ the Double Y, an’ he ’s put me in as foreman." "So—it pleases me greatly, Mr. Buck. Ned iss a good man. If you haf Ned, that iss different." He shook hands with Buck who took note of the blue eyes and frank smile of the blonde German, at a loss to discover where he hid that hardness Ned had referred to. "Sorry I can’t offer you a job," said Buck, matching the other’s smile at the joke, "but from what I hear, one foreman will be a-plenty on the Double Y." "It iss a good range—eggselent—und der iss mooch free grass ven you haf der Double Vy for der hard years; but dere iss not enough for you und for me, too, so I turn farmer. Also some of der boys, dey turn farmer. I take oud quarter-section alretty." "Quarter-section! Turn farmer! You! Sufferin’ cows! give me a drink," and Ned looked wildly around for the unattainable. "_Donnerwetter_! Somet’ing I must do. To lend money iss good but not enough. Also my train vill not vait. So I say good-morning und vish you luck." Ned wheeled his horse to gaze after the departing figure and Buck sat laughing at his expression. "Luck," echoed Ned; "bad luck, you mean, you grinnin’ Dutchman. H—l of a farmer you ’ll be. Now I wonder what’s his little game." "Aw, come on, Ned. ’Pears to me he ’s easy," and Allday sprang away along the trail.