“That would take too long. If I go into any business, it must be something that will yield me immediate returns. I think the easiest thing I could do would be to put in fifty or a hundred acres of wheat. That is a crop that will require the least work.” “Well, there is land enough at your disposal,” said George. “There are ten thousand acres in this ranche. But where are you going to get the money to fence your field?” “I don’t see why I should fence it at all. Our own cattle (Ned and his father always spoke of the ranche, and everything belonging to it, as though it were their own property) will not trouble it, for I shall tell the herders to keep them at a distance.” “But they couldn’t always do it. Besides, suppose some of the neighbors’ cattle should stray away from the herdsmen and trespass on your field: what would you do?” “I should tell those neighbors, whoever they were, to keep their cattle at home; and if they didn’t do it, I should watch my field and shoot the first steer that came into it. That thing has been done in this country.” “Yes, it has,” returned George, “and what was the consequence?” “O, it created a neighborhood row, I believe,” answered Ned, indifferently. “It certainly did; and you would never want to live through another if you had lived through that one. You will need a fence around your field, and it must be high and strong, too; and if anybody’s cattle break in, as they will, most likely, no matter how good your fence may be, you mustn’t take satisfaction by shooting them.” “You’ll see whether I will or not. If I can raise a fuss as easily as that, I’ll do it. The people here seem to think that I’m a nobody, but they will find that they are very badly mistaken. I can draw a trigger as well as the next man.”