“Well,” said Mr. Majors, “if he has no folks that’s a different matter. I don’t want to encourage any boy to leave his home when he ought to be going to school, and getting the right bringing up generally. It’s a rough life for a boy or man either out on the plains. Do you swear?” he demanded, suddenly. Dave stammered. “I don’t mean to. I don’t think I do.” “That’s right,” asserted Mr. Majors. “I won’t have anybody around or working for our company who blasphemes or lies. I won’t have it at all. There’s no sense in swearing. All right then. I can put you at herding, if you really want to work. We’ll pay you twenty-five dollars a month, the same as we pay all herders. Got a horse?” “No, sir,” said Davy. “That doesn’t matter. We’ll furnish you a mount, of course. You can have the one that other herder’s using. I hope you’ll make a better herder than most of the others. Herding is a business just like any other business, my boy. Whatever you do, do well. If you make a good herder, we’ll give you a chance at something more. Nearly everybody has to start in at herding. Billy here did. Now he’s drawing full pay with the wagon trains. He’ll tell you what to do. You can sign the pay roll and start in this afternoon. Mr. Meyers,” and Mr. Majors addressed his book-keeper, “have this boy sign the pay roll and the pledge. He’s going on herd, with the cattle out west of town.” “Yes, Mr. Majors,” answered the book-keeper, opening a large book. “Come over here, boy.” Davy thought this rather sudden, but made no comment. He walked boldly over to the book-keeper. “Sign here,” bade Mr. Meyers, indicating with his finger. And Davy wrote, in his best manner: “David Scott.” “Here’s something else,” bade the book-keeper. “Better read it. We all have to sign it, if we work for the company.” Davy read the slip. It said: “While I am in the employ of Russell, Majors & Waddell, I agree not to use profane language, not to get drunk, not to gamble, not to treat animals cruelly, and not to do anything else that is incompatible with the conduct of a gentleman. And I agree, if I violate any of the above conditions, to accept my discharge without any pay for my services.” Mr. Majors had strolled over, to inspect, as Davy signed. He nodded. “I’m glad to see you can write, my boy,” he said. “That’s more than some of the men can do. Billy here had to make his mark the first time he signed with us.” “He can write now, though,” informed Davy, loyally, remembering the scribbling on the wagon. “I’ve seen him.” “Yes, Billy’s found out that he’s no worse off for having put in some time at school. He’ll be glad enough of all the school that he can get before he’s gone much farther. Have you got bedding, my boy?” “N-no, I haven’t,” faltered Davy. “Maybe I can find some though.” “We can rake up a quilt or two for you,” offered Mr. Majors. But Billy spoke quickly.