He said, “You know what there is. You count the stock and appraise what other stuff you got, and send me a bill, and I will send you a check.” And when we dissolved partnership and sold out, we settled the same way. He had great faith in mankind. Charlie and I built up a very nice little ranch. He and Nancy both filed on some land adjoining my old place and we run about three hundred cattle and about sixty head of horses. Our cattle brand was known as the Lazy KY. Our horse brand was the letter “T.” It was very hard to get a desirable brand at that time, as the recorder of brands would not give you a brand you asked for, but would pick out a brand for you, and if what he sent you didn’t suit, you sent two dollars more until you got the kind of iron you wanted. We had a great deal of trouble getting a horse brand until we got the letter “T.” Governor Joseph Toole owned this brand in the days when Montana was a territory, and he had not used it for many years. A great many people tried to buy it from him, but he would not sell it, but through his brother, Bruce Toole, who was a cattleman, he agreed to let us have the iron, and as he admired Charlie’s work would not accept any pay for it. Also the recorder of brands, in courtesy to the governor, transferred the brand without cost. So we owned one of the oldest brands in the state, and as we never transferred the iron to anyone I believe it still stands on record in our names. But Charlie and I started in the cattle business too late to get the full benefit of the open range. The cattlemen were like the Indians. At one time they had everything they wanted—free range and free water—but the sheepmen soon began to squat on the watering places and it wasn’t many years until they had outnumbered the cattlemen. There was a general hatred between them, as the cattle wouldn’t graze or water where there were sheep and the sheep would go everywhere. That was bad—but was nothing compared to when the farmers came from the East and homesteaded the land. I seen that country change in two years from where there was open range everywhere to where there wasn’t a foot of government land left, either in Montana or across the Canadian line, and in 1910 we had a very dry year and had to gather our cattle and bring them home. So decided to sell out. The farmers filed on every water hole in the country and they all had dogs, so the cattle didn’t have a chance. Some of the old-timers hung on for awhile and reminded me again of the Indians, as they said the farmer couldn’t last and would starve out and the country would all go back to open range. But when I seen those farmers raise fifty bushels of wheat to the acre on that virgin soil I could see the handwriting on the wall.