With gentle insistence he drew his friend away from the painfully fascinating spectacle which held so difficult a riddle. And presently they were again with their horses, which were grazing unconcernedly upon the sweet blue grass which the valley yielded so generously. "Well?" There was almost impatience in Jeff's monosyllable. For answer Bud pointed at a number of rough fences, uneven, crude, makeshift, some distance away. "See them? Oh, yes, I guess they're corrals sure. But it don't take a feller who's lived all his life among cattle more'n five seconds to locate their meanin'. They're corrals set up in an a'mighty hurry by folks who hate work o' that sort anyway. An' I'd say, Jeff, cattlemen--real cattlemen--don't dump a range down in the heart of the Cathills, not even fer this sweet-grass you can see around, when ther's the prairie jest outside. That is cattlemen who got no sort o' reason fer keepin' quit of the--open plains. Then ther's bin a big drive away north from here. Mebbe they wer' gettin' clear of this fire." Under the influence of Bud's clear convictions all Jeff's fears vanished. He accepted the other's admittedly better understanding of these things all the more readily that he desired earnestly to dispel the last shadows of his momentary doubt. "That's so," he agreed. Then he added: "But anyway, our camp's gone." "Yes. We'll make camp some'ere else. Meanwhiles----" "Yes?" "We must follow up the trail." There was irrevocable decision in the older cattleman's tone. And his words had the effect of startling the other. "But--I don't see----" "They're rustlers. Ther's their tracks clear as day. This is their hiding. Wal, I guess there's jest one thing to be done. It's our duty to track 'em down. Our duty to the cattle world, Jeff, boy." "But what about--Ronald?" Bud looked him squarely in the eyes. "We're cattlemen first, Jeff. The other'll come later." Jeff nodded, but there was a certain reluctance in his manner. His whole heart was set upon the search for his twin brother. He felt that his duty as a cattleman scarcely had the right to claim him at such a time. But the older man's manner made it difficult to protest, and, in deference to him, he felt it would be ungenerous to refuse. After all it only meant perhaps the delay of a day for his own projects. "Then we'll feed and water right here, Bud," he said resignedly. "We can leave our pack ponies, and ride light. There's five hours of daylight yet." "Yes, five hours good. Thanks, boy. Don't you worry a thing. We'll make this time good. We're goin' to find your Ronald--if he's anywheres around these Cathills." * * * * * * The more concentrated the character, the more sure its power of moral endurance, so the more acute its suffering under adversity. Such penalties lie ambushed for the strong, as though in delight at the immensity of the suffering which can thereby be inflicted.