“You don’t want anything better if you manage rightly,” said the man. “I have known young fellows like you and your partner to start out with a few head of stock and make themselves rich before they were forty years old. But of course they worked hard and attended strictly to business. That’s the only way to get on in this world. Now, my friend, we shall not need your light any longer.” Ned was glad indeed when the squatter dropped the blanket to its place and went out with his fire-brand. He was glad, too, that the ranchemen were tired and sleepy, for he did not want to hear them talk. He was afraid that they might address some of their remarks to him. They did not know him in his cousin’s clothes, and they did not recognise his face for the reason that they had not obtained a fair view of it on the night they visited the rancho; but they had heard his voice, and they might remember it if they heard it again. So Ned determined that he would not speak. He pretended to fall asleep immediately, but the fact was he did not sleep a wink that night. The mere presence of the men who were hunting him so perseveringly was enough to keep him wide awake. The long hours of night had never dragged so slowly away before, nor had Ned ever longed so impatiently for the daylight. The first gray streaks of dawn which came creeping in through the wide cracks in the walls around the slumbering ranchemen who, after exchanging a few words in a low tone of voice, arose and left the room, taking their blankets and saddles with them. Ned heard them in conversation with the squatter, and wished most heartily that the latter would not be so persistent in his efforts to keep them until breakfast was over. He did not want the ranchemen to see him by daylight, and he was overjoyed to hear them declare that all they wanted was a cold bite, and if their host would provide them with that they would be off. The cold bite was speedily forthcoming, and when the ranchemen had done full justice to it, they mounted their horses and rode away. Then Ned breathed easily for the first time in long hours. This was the last adventure that befell our young travellers while they were on their way to Brownsville. They never went a mile out of their way; they fared well along the route, and their meals and lodging did not cost them a cent. The door of any rancho or farm-house that happened to be in sight when night came was open to them, the owner treated them like honored guests, and always refused to accept any remuneration. They rode into Brownsville one morning about ten o’clock. Having made inquiries at their last night’s stopping-place they knew the name of the best hotel and where to go to find it, and toward it they directed their course. Giving their horses in charge of a man who came out to meet them as they drew up in front of the door, they went in, and Ned, having signed his name to the register, called for a room.