“Never did. He must be new on the job. Like as not he’s an agent for a Chi. firm. They have men in this section nearly all the time now. Hope the boss makes a good deal with him.” “Dad says he offered two dollars a head more than any of the other buyers,” Roy declared. “Didn’t even try to get a lower rate. But that may be his way of doing business--knows what he wants and goes after it. We won’t kick about that. Still, that forfeit idea is a new wrinkle--at least, for our ranch. Gus, and the rest of you, see if you can get any dope on him, will you? Ask Jules and Nat Raymond. If you hear anything, let us know.” Teddy and Roy had thought to inquire more about the Lefton brothers and to ask Nick’s opinion of them. But with the introduction of an added topic--concerning Peterson--the new interest overtopped the old one, so far as cattle buying went. It was now important that Peterson be given consideration. Gus, who was to go to town to-morrow, promised to make inquiries about Peterson. “Chances are I won’t hear anything, though. He must be representing an Eastern firm. Two dollars more a head than the others, hey? Must be made of money.” “But we ought to find out _something_ of his qualifications,” Roy objected. “Certainly, they’ll know about him at the freight office. He said he’s been in this business a number of years. Tried to give dad advice.” Roy smiled. “Dad took him for a little ride, but Peterson didn’t know it.” Teddy and Roy were to make a trip to Red Rock the next day, to look over the territory where the six hundred head were to be driven. So after a little more talk with Nick and the other hands they sought their beds. They started for Red Rock early. Flash had entirely recovered from the slight sprain he had received in the flight from the wolves, and he whinnied with the joy of living when Teddy headed him toward the open range. “Running well, isn’t he?” Roy remarked, as, riding close to his brother, he watched Flash’s feet tap the ground. “Sure is! I’m depending on him to help us cop a prize at the rodeo. And, believe me, Star is no slouch either!” He motioned with his elbow toward Roy’s pony. “With these two, we ought to get something.” Roy grinned, and the two rode on. The chill of the fall morning had given way to the warmth of Indian summer. Ahead of them a jack-rabbit scurried across the path. The mountains gleamed green and white beneath the early sun. In the distance a river threaded its way between banks of quakermasts and evergreens. Roy breathed deep of the tonic air. “It’s good,” he said simply, “just to be here.” Teddy did not laugh. He, too, was beginning to realize more of life. There had been a time, not long ago, when this remark would have brought a smile to his face. But now he thought seriously that it _was_ good to be here. Thus, quickly, youth comes into its heritage. But humor is not diminished. Rather, it is increased.