"Good. Take possession of the range, occupy it with cattle, and every
one will respect your prior right," argued the practical man. "Range is
being rapidly taken up in this western country. Here's your chance.
Water and grass, world without end."

Joel was evidently embarrassed. Not that he questioned the older man's
advice, but the means to the end seemed totally lacking. The grind of
poverty had been his constant companion, until he scarcely looked
forward to any reprieve, and the castles being built and the domain
surveyed at the present moment were vague and misty. "I don't doubt your
advice," admitted the boy. "A man could do it, you could, but Dell and
I had better return to the settlements. Mr. Quince will surely be
well by fall."

"Will you make me a promise?" frankly asked the cowman.

"I will," eagerly replied the boy.

"After I leave to-morrow morning, then, tell Forrest that you are
thinking of claiming Beaver Creek as a cattle range. Ask him if he knows
any way to secure a few cows and yearlings with which to stock it. In
the mean time, think it over yourself. Will you do that?"

"Y-e-s, I--I will," admitted Joel, as if trapped into the promise.

"Of course you will. And ask him as if life and death depended on
securing the cattle. Forrest has been a trail foreman and knows all the
drovers and their men. He's liable to remain with you until the season
ends. Now, don't fail to ask him."