Pete squirmed in his chair. Uneasily, he looked overhead at the tassled canopy. "That's a lousy way to put it," he complained. "Well?" Don's face was still expressionless. Pete forced himself to look directly at him. "I don't know. I ... well, you've done so darn much. Well, I guess I am a little afraid of you, at that." He looked at the floor. "Oh, all right. I'll have to admit it. You do actually make me uneasy. Always did, even back at school. Lot of fellows felt the same way." Don stood. "That's what I mean. And it would get worse if I hung around. You'd get so you hated yourself--and me." He held out a hand. "You're the king--the ruler of this whole nation. That means you've got to be the head man. No one can give you orders. They can suggest, but no one can be even capable of giving you orders." He smiled. "Dad will rebuild the ranch, of course. And I may come back once in a while, in a very quiet way. But for the most part, I'd better not be around too often." Pete got to his feet. Suddenly, he looked relieved and at ease. "I'll make certain your ranch is never interfered with," he promised. "It's yours, so long as you or your father want it. And I hope that some day it'll be a home for your kids." He paused. "If you ever do decide to come to the capital," he added, "you'll be a welcome guest at the palace." "O.K." Don grinned. "Let's leave it that way. Good-by, then, and I hope yours is the longest reign in history." He turned and walked through the curtain. THE END