"Yeah. Utah's a long ways, though. The girl didn't seem to think they was going so very far." The other made no answer and after a moment Beck said: "Notice the brand on them cattle? THO? That ain't a good neighbor for the HC to have.... Unless it's an honest neighbor." "Well, they're goin' into Utah," Dad said doggedly. "You know, Hepburn, one of the first things I'd do if I was foreman of this outfit?" Beck asked. "What's that?" "Take up the water in Devil's Hole. That's the best early feed this outfit has got, but without water it's worthless. Nesters are comin' in, which would worry me, if I was foreman. The Colonel had somebody file on it once, planning to buy when he'd patented the claim. This party didn't make good, and the matter dropped." The other did not reply for a moment, but looked hard at his horse's ears, as if struggling to control himself. "I've already took that up with her," he said sulkily, and stirred in his saddle. "If I wasn't foreman of an outfit, do you know what I'd do? I'd let the foreman do the worryin'." Beck scratched his chin with a concern which surely could not have been genuine, for he said: "Yeah. That's the best way. Only..." "Well, you had your chance to be foreman; why didn't you take it?" Beck pondered a moment. "In the first place I wasn't crazy wild to stay with this outfit, 'cause when I lift my nose in the air and sniff real careful, I can smell a lot of hell coming this way, and I'm a mighty meek and peaceful citizen. "In the second place, I don't care much about drawing the best job in the country like I'd draw a prize cake at a church social." Hepburn sniffed. "You passed it up, though. Now, why don't you pass up worryin' about my job?" Beck did not reply at once, but turned on the other a taunting, maddening smile. "You're right. I passed it up, but there's something that won't let me pass up the worry. "You know what that is,"--nodding toward the distant ranch house. "You know she's in a jack pot. You heard her tell me she needed good men, men she could trust, and the good Lord knows that's so. You know I stayed on because she asked me like she meant it and not because I fancied the job. "I've got a notion that makin' good out here means more to her than making money; I like her style, and I like to help her sort if I can. That's why I may do more 'n an ordinary hand's share of worryin'. "You know, somebody's got to,"--significantly. "What's meant by that, Beck?" Dad asked after a moment and the grit in his tone told that the insinuation had not missed its mark. "If it was so awful hard for you to guess, Hepburn, I don't think you'd get on the peck so easy. I mean that since she's asked me to stay and work for her, I'm on the job. Not only with both hands and feet and what head I've got, but with my eyes and my ears and my heart.