Never had Harry seen Rob in such a mood. All through the day she heard him and Garnett talking as they worked and every now and then breaking into peals of laughter. Harry would not let herself dwell on the loss of her herd. It hurt her to see them file out through the gate for the last time, to realize that she must begin all over again, this time in the slow, plodding way, to gather a bunch of stock. But, after all, she had had a valuable experience and she had saved her land. She and Rob took turns driving the loaded wagon; for to her the best of the trip was being in the saddle, helping to move the cattle. When Harry was driving Isita rode Hike. So happy was the young girl in her shy way, so naturally did she fit in with the plans and duties and pleasures of the family, that Harry was deeply thankful for the chance that had given this friend to her. Cattle travel slowly, and it was late on the third day when they got down to the South Side. As they left behind the wild splendor of the Snake River gorge and came into the level richness of the irrigation country beyond, Harry grew silent. She was noticing everything: the magnificent ranches one after another, the haystacks as big as churches, the silos and the orchards, the grain elevators and the handsome houses. They all meant wealth. Yet at the same time she was missing their own mountains, their groves and streams, the wild and solitary beauty that at first had seemed so harsh and unfriendly, but which, by insensible degrees, while the rough homestead had grown into the cherished Homestead Ranch she had learned to love and to think of as "home." "You ain't likin' it real well, are you?" Garnett said suddenly as he rode beside her. "That isn't what I was thinking," she answered slowly. "When I looked at this I wondered how I had ever imagined that we could make a herd pay up in the hills." "But that's exactly the place to make 'em pay. Didn't Ludlum prove it when he tried to sneak your homestead away from you? That's the grandest grazing country in Idaho. But no one ought to winter there. You've got to come down here and feed your stock in this hay country. That's the combination that makes these stockmen so disgustingly rich. Sure." Harry laughed a little. "It wasn't so much the money," she said slowly. "I wanted to do something worth while, something that counted. Oh, you know: raise the finest beef; have everybody want my calves. I couldn't bear the idea of farm drudgery and housework with nothing to look forward to. Instead of that I made an awful mess of it, and no end of trouble for Rob. And, after all, I've had to come round to his way in the end."