Clavering laughed. "He'll earn his pay. Has it struck you that this campaign is going to cost us a good deal? Allonby hasn't much left in hand already." "Oh, yes," said the older man, with a little grim smile. "If it's wanted I'll throw my last dollar in. Beaten now and we're beaten for ever. We have got to win." Clavering said nothing further, though he realized, perhaps more clearly than his leader, that it was only by the downfall of the cattle-men the small farmer could establish himself, and, when he had handed a cheque to Torrance, went out. It was three days later when Hetty Torrance rose from her seat in a big vestibule car as the long train slackened speed outside a little Western station. She laughed as she swept her glance round the car. "Look at it, Flo," she said; "gilding and velvet and nickel, all quite in keeping with the luxury of the East. You are environed by civilization still; but once you step off the platform there will be a difference." Flora Schuyler, who noticed the little flush in her companion's face, glanced out of the dusty window, for the interior of the gently-rocking car, with its lavish decoration and upholstery, was not new to her, and the first thing that caught her eye was the miscellaneous deposit of rubbish, old boots, and discarded clothing, amidst the willows that slowly flitted by. Then she saw a towering water-tank, wooden houses that rose through a haze of blowing dust, hideous in their unadornment, against a crystalline sky, and a row of close-packed stock-cars which announced that they were in the station. It seemed to be thronged with the populace, and there was a murmur, apparently of disappointed expectancy, when, as the cars stopped, the three women alone appeared on the platform. Then there was a shout for the conductor, and somebody said, "You've no rustlers aboard for us?" "No," said the grinning official who leaned out from the door of the baggage-car. "The next crowd are waiting until they can buy rifles to whip you with." Hoarse laughter followed, and somebody said, "Boys, your friends aren't coming. You can take your band home again." Then out of the clamour came the roll of a drum, and, clear and musical, the ringing of bugles blown by men who had marched with Grant and Sherman when they were young. The effect was stirring, and a cheer went up, for there were other men present in whom the spirit which, underlying immediate issues, had roused the North to arms was living yet; but it broke off into laughter when, one by one, discordant instruments and beaten pans joined in. The din, however, ceased suddenly, when somebody said, "Hadn't you better let up, boys, or Torrance will figure you sent the band for him?" Miss Schuyler appeared a trifle bewildered, the maid frightened; but Hetty's cheeks were glowing. "Flo," she said, "aren't you glad you came? The boys are taking the trail. We'll show you how we stir the prairie up by and by!"