During his inspection Hollis had seen a patch of garden, some chickens, and down in a small pasture some cows that he supposed were kept for milking. He was leaning on the top rail of the corral fence after he had concluded his trip of inspection when he heard a clatter of hoofs behind him and turned to observe Norton, just riding up to the corral gate. The range boss wore a grin of pleasure. "How you findin' things?" he questioned. "In better shape than I expected--after listening to Judge Graney," smiled Hollis. Norton looked critically at him. "Then you ain't changed your mind about stayin' here?" he inquired. "No," returned Hollis; "I believe I shall get used to it in time." Norton dismounted, his eyes alight with satisfaction. "That's the stuff!" he declared. He threw the reins over his pony's head and seized Hollis by an arm. "Come along with me--down to my shack," he said; "I've got somethin' to show you." Without further words he led Hollis toward a building--the one he had occupied previous to the death of the elder Hollis. There were three rooms in the building and in the front one were several articles of furniture and some boxes. One of these boxes Norton opened, taking therefrom several articles of wearing apparel, consisting of a pair of corduroy trousers, a pair of leathern chaps, boots, spurs, two woolen shirts, a blue neckerchief, a broad felt hat, and last, with a grin of amusement over Hollis's astonished expression, a cartridge belt to which was attached a holster containing a Colt .45. "I bought this outfit over at Santa Fe two months ago," he informed Hollis, who was gravely contemplating the lay-out, "expectin' to wear them myself some day. But when I got home I found they didn't quite fit." He surveyed Hollis with a critical eye. "I've been thinkin' ever since you come that you'd fit pretty snug in them." He raised a protesting hand as Hollis was about to speak. "I ain't givin' them to you," he grinned. "But you can't wear no tenderfoot clothes out here. Some day when we're together an' we've got time you can blow me to another outfit; I won't hesitate about takin' it." He leaned over and tapped the butt of the Colt. "You ever handle one of them?" he questioned. Hollis nodded. Once during a shooting tournament he had done good work with a pistol. But Norton laughed at his nod. "Mebbe we do it a little different out here," he smiled. "You hop into them duds an' we'll go out into the cottonwood yonder an' try out your gun." He pointed through the door to a small clump of cottonwoods beyond the bunkhouse. He went out and fifteen minutes later Hollis joined him, looking thoroughly at home in his picturesque rigging. An hour later they returned to the corral fence, where Norton caught up his pony and another, saddling the latter for Hollis. He commented briefly upon the new owner's ability with the six-shooter.