When the rider was ready to mount, and Bob went to open the gate, the stranger climbed down and drew a little aside. And when Phil, passing where he stood, looked laughingly down at him from the back of the bucking, plunging horse, he made as if to applaud, but checked himself and went quickly to the top of the knoll to watch the riders until they disappeared over the ridge. "Howdy! Fine weather we're havin'." It was the Dean's hearty voice. He had gone forward courteously to greet the stranger while the latter was watching the riders. The man turned impulsively, his face lighted with enthusiasm. "By Jove!" he exclaimed, "but that man can ride!" "Yes, Phil does pretty well," returned the Dean indifferently. "Won the championship at Prescott the other day." Then, more heartily: "He's a mighty good boy, too--take him any way you like." As he spoke the cattleman looked the stranger over critically, much as he would have looked at a steer or horse, noting the long limbs, the well-made body, the strong face and clear, dark eyes. The man's dress told the Dean simply that the stranger was from the city. His bearing commanded the older man's respect. The stranger's next statement, as he looked thoughtfully over the wide Land of valley and hill and mesa and mountain, convinced the Dean that he was a man of judgment. "Arizona is a wonderful country, sir--wonderful!" "Finest in the world, sir," agreed the Dean promptly. "There just naturally can't be any better. We've got the climate; we've got the land; and we've got the men." The stranger looked at the Dean quickly when he said "men." It was worth much to hear the Dean speak that word. "Indeed you have," he returned heartily. "I never saw such men." "Of course you haven't," said the Dean. "I tell you, sir, they just don't make 'em outside of Arizona. It takes a country like this to produce real men. A man's got to be a man out here. Of course, though," he admitted kindly, "we don't know much except to ride, an' throw a rope, an' shoot, mebby, once in a while." The riders were returning and the Dean and the stranger walked back down the little hill to the corral. "You have a fine ranch here, Mr. Baldwin," again observed the stranger. The Dean glanced at him sharply. Many men had tried to buy the Cross-Triangle. This man certainly appeared prosperous even though he was walking. But there was no accounting for the queer things that city men would do. "It does pretty well," the cattleman admitted. "I manage to make a livin'." The other smiled as though slightly embarrassed. Then: "Do you need any help?" "Help!" The Dean looked at him amazed. "I mean--I would like a position--to work for you, you know." The Dean was speechless. Again he surveyed the stranger with his measuring, critical look. "You've never done any work," he said gently. The man stood very straight before him and spoke almost defiantly. "No, I haven't, but is that any reason why I should not?"