"Well, I guess the old Colonel was tickled when he heard you'd spotted the rustlers," said Babe, as he reined in beside him. "He wanted to come along--did for a fact, and him nearly seventy. He'd push the lid off his coffin and climb out at his own funeral if somebody'd happen to mention that thieves was brandin' his calves." "You said you had started to the ranch to see me." "Oh, yes--I forgot. Your father sent word to the Colonel that he was sellin' off his cattle and goin' into sheep, and wanted the Colonel to let you know." "The poor old Governor! It'll about break his heart, I know; and I should be there. At his time of life it's a pretty hard and galling thing to quit cattle--to be forced out of the business into sheep. It's like bein' made to change your politics or religion against your will." "'Fore I'd wrangle woolers," declared Babe, "I'd hold up trains or rob dudes or do 'most any old thing. Say, I've rid by sheep-wagons when I was durn near starvin' ruther than eat with a sheep-herder or owe one a favor. Where do you find a man like the Colonel in sheep?" demanded Babe. "You don't find 'em. Nothin' but a lot of upstart sheep-herders, that's got rich in five years and don't know how to act." "Oh, you're prejudiced, Babe. Not all sheepmen are muckers any more than all cattlemen are gentlemen." "I'm not prejudiced a-_tall_!" declared Babe excitedly. "I'm perfectly fair and square. Woolers is demoralizin'. Associate with woolers, and it takes the spirit out of a feller quicker'n cookin.' In five years you won't be half the man you are now if you go into sheep. I'll sure hate to see it!" His voice was all but pathetic as he contemplated Ralston's downfall. "I think you will, though, Babe, if I get out of this with a whole hide." "You'll be so well fixed you can git married then?" There was some constraint in Babe's tone, which he meant to be casual. Ralston's heart gave him a twinge of pain. "I s'pose you've had every chance to git acquainted with the Schoolmarm," he observed, since Ralston did not reply. "She doesn't like me, Babe." "_What_!" yelled Babe, screwing up his face in a grimace of surprise and unbelief. "She would rather talk to Ling than to me--at least, she seems far more friendly to any one else than to me." "Say, she must be loony not to like you!" Ralston could not help laughing outright at Babe's vigorous loyalty. "It's not necessarily a sign of insanity to dislike me." "She doesn't go that far, does she?" demanded Babe. "Sometimes I think so." "You don't care a-tall, do you?" "Yes," Ralston replied quietly; "I care a great deal. It hurts me more than I ever was hurt before; because, you see, Babe, I never loved a woman before." "Aw-w-w," replied Babe, in deepest sympathy.