“Sometimes at night,” replied Dale. “Wal, excuse me. Hope you don't fetch the yaller rascal down to Pine.” “I won't.” “What'll you do with this menagerie?” Dale regarded the rancher attentively. “Reckon, Al, I'll take care of them.” “But you're goin' down to my ranch.” “What for?” Al scratched his head and gazed perplexedly at the hunter. “Wal, ain't it customary to visit friends?” “Thanks, Al. Next time I ride down Pine way--in the spring, perhaps--I'll run over an' see how you are.” “Spring!” ejaculated Auchincloss. Then he shook his head sadly and a far-away look filmed his eyes. “Reckon you'd call some late.” “Al, you'll get well now. These, girls--now--they'll cure you. Reckon I never saw you look so good.” Auchincloss did not press his point farther at that time, but after the meal, when the other men came to see Dale's camp and pets, Helen's quick ears caught the renewal of the subject. “I'm askin' you--will you come?” Auchincloss said, low and eagerly. “No. I wouldn't fit in down there,” replied Dale. “Milt, talk sense. You can't go on forever huntin' bear an' tamin' cats,” protested the old rancher. “Why not?” asked the hunter, thoughtfully. Auchincloss stood up and, shaking himself as if to ward off his testy temper, he put a hand on Dale's arm. “One reason is you're needed in Pine.” “How? Who needs me?” “I do. I'm playin' out fast. An' Beasley's my enemy. The ranch an' all I got will go to Nell. Thet ranch will have to be run by a man an' HELD by a man. Do you savvy? It's a big job. An' I'm offerin' to make you my foreman right now.” “Al, you sort of take my breath,” replied Dale. “An' I'm sure grateful. But the fact is, even if I could handle the job, I--I don't believe I'd want to.” “Make yourself want to, then. Thet 'd soon come. You'd get interested. This country will develop. I seen thet years ago. The government is goin' to chase the Apaches out of here. Soon homesteaders will be flockin' in. Big future, Dale. You want to get in now. An'--” Here Auchincloss hesitated, then spoke lower: “An' take your chance with the girl!... I'll be on your side.” A slight vibrating start ran over Dale's stalwart form. “Al--you're plumb dotty!” he exclaimed. “Dotty! Me? Dotty!” ejaculated Auchincloss. Then he swore. “In a minit I'll tell you what you are.” “But, Al, that talk's so--so--like an old fool's.” “Huh! An' why so?” “Because that--wonderful girl would never look at me,” Dale replied, simply. “I seen her lookin' already,” declared Al, bluntly. Dale shook his head as if arguing with the old rancher was hopeless. “Never mind thet,” went on Al. “Mebbe I am a dotty old fool--'specially for takin' a shine to you. But I say again--will you come down to Pine and be my foreman?” “No,” replied Dale. “Milt, I've no son--an' I'm--afraid of Beasley.” This was uttered in an agitated whisper. “Al, you make me ashamed,” said Dale, hoarsely. “I can't come. I've no nerve.” “You've no what?”