"I've heard about your driving away the sheep man," returned Patty, with more than a trace of sarcasm in her tone. "I am moving into this cabin--am taking up my father's work where he left off. I suppose I should ask your permission to prospect in the hill country." "No," replied the man, gravely. "Just help yourself, only don't get lost, an' remember yer dad knew enough to play a lone hand. I must be goin', now. Good day." He turned his horse to see Microby standing in the doorway. "Hello, Microby Dandeline! House cleanin', eh? I s'pect you took in the picture show in town?" "Yes, but circusts is better. I got some yallar ribbon fer my hat, an' a awful lot o' candies." "My, that's fine! How's ma an' the baby?" "They stayed hum. The baby'd squall. Pa an' the boys is goin' to mend fence, an' I'm a-goin' to stay yere an' he'p her clean up the sheep camp." The cowpuncher turned to Watts. "What's the big hurry about the fences, Watts? You goin' to take over a bunch of stock?" "Hosses," answered Watts with an important jerk at his scraggly beard. "I done rented the upper pasture to a man name o' Schultz over in Blackfoot country. Five dollars a month, I git fer hit, an' five dollars fer every day er night they's hosses in hit. He done paid two months' rent a'ready." Vil Holland's brows puckered slightly. "Schultz, you say? Over in the Blackfoot country?" "Yas, he's aimin' to trail hosses from there over into Canady an' he wants some pastures handy." "Did Schultz see you about it himself?" asked Vil, casually. "No, Monk Bethune; he come by this way, an' he taken the pasture for Schultz." Patty noted an almost imperceptible narrowing of the cowpuncher's eyes, an expression, slight as it was, that spoke disapproval. The man's attitude angered her. Here was poor Watts, about to undertake the first work he had done in years, judging by the condition of the ranch, under stimulus of the few dollars promised him by Bethune, and this cowboy disapproved. "Are horses under the ban, too?" she asked quickly. "Hasn't Mr. Watts the right to rent his land for a horse pasture?" The man's answer seemed studiously rude in its direct brevity. "No, horses ain't under the ban. Yes, Watts can rent his land where he wants to. Good day." Before the girl could reply he reined his horse abruptly about, and disappeared in the timber upon the opposite side of the creek. "Reckon I better be gittin' 'long, too," said Watts. "Microby's welcome to stay an' he'p yo'-all git moved in, but please mom, to see't she gits started fer hum 'fore dark. Hit takes thet ol' pinto 'bout a hour to make the trip."