"The men will take advantage of you, sir--if I may be so bold as to say so. They know you were not brought up to sheeping. They will impose on you and shirk their duties." "I am not afraid, Thornton," was the calm reply. "I have had a chance to test what they would do when they were dipping the sheep. It was as thorough a piece of work as one would wish to see done, and went smoothly as a sled in iced ruts. I never saw better team-work. Sandy directed things most ably." "Sandy does well enough at times," was Thornton's grudging answer, "but you are depending on him too much. You may regret it later." "I doubt it." Thornton turned. "Wait and see," was his curt reply. After he had gone out Donald rose and came to his father's side. "Thornton doesn't like Sandy, father." "I am afraid he doesn't, Don." "Why?" "Think of a reason." "Because Sandy is the son of Old Angus--is it that?" "Possibly," responded Mr. Clark, "and yet I think it is not wholly that." "Because Sandy is so good?" "Perhaps." "Because we both like Sandy so much?" persisted the boy. "I shouldn't wonder." "Well, I don't see how any one could help liking Sandy! He is the best man on the place. He knows so much, and is so full of fun, father! And he is so kind to his dogs and to the sheep! Why, I believe he loves every sheep on Crescent Ranch." "I am sure of it." There was a silence. "Father," burst out Donald when he could bear the silence no longer, "I believe Thornton wants you to appoint him manager of our ranch." Mr. Clark's face lighted with pleasure. "I am glad to hear you call it our ranch, Don," he said. "I want you to grow up and go to college and afterward I wish you to choose some useful work in the world. Whatever honorable thing you elect to do I shall gladly help you to carry out. But if it happened--not that I should ever urge it--but if it happened that by and by you wanted to take part of the care of this ranch on your shoulders it would make me very glad." "I am sure I should like to," cried Donald impulsively. "No, no," his father responded, shaking his head. "Do not give your word so thoughtlessly. It is a serious matter to choose what you will do in life. You must take a long time to think about it--years, perhaps. You are only fourteen. There will be many an idea popping in and out of your head between now and the time you are twenty. Just stow the thought away; take it out sometimes, turn it over, and put it back again." "I will, father." "And now, just for a moment, let us suppose you really are twenty and are helping me with the ranch. The first thing we should be doing now would be trying to make up our minds about this new manager." "Yes, I suppose we should." "What should you say about that?" "I wouldn't appoint Thornton, father!" His father smiled at the instant decision.