Him Lin McLean at once addressed. "I was wantin' to speak to you," said
he.

The experienced foreman noticed the boy's holiday appearance. "I
understand you're tired of work," he remarked.

"Who told you?" asked the bewildered Lin.

The foreman touched the boy's pretty handkerchief. "Well, I have a way of
taking things in at a glance," said he. "That's why I'm foreman, I
expect. So you've had enough work?"

"My system's full of it," replied Lin, grinning. As the foreman stood
thinking, he added, "And I'd like my time."

Time, in the cattle idiom, meant back-pay up to date.

"It's good we're not busy," said the foreman.

"Meanin' I'd quit all the same?" inquired Lin, rapidly, flushing.

"No--not meaning any offence. Catch up your horse. I want to make the
post before it gets hot."

The foreman had come down the river from the ranch at Meadow Creek, and
the post, his goal, was Fort Washakie. All this part of the country
formed the Shoshone Indian Reservation, where, by permission, pastured
the herds whose owner would pay Lin his time at Washakie. So the young
cow-puncher flung on his saddle and mounted.