"Then I'd like to see a big ranch," laughed Bartley.

"You can't. They ain't nothin' to see more'n you see right now. Why, I
know a outfit down in Texas that would call this here ranch their north
pasture--and they got three more about the same size, besides the
regular range. But standin' in any one place you can't see any more than
you do right now. Steve just keeps up this here ranch so he can have
elbow-room. Yonder comes one of his boys. Reckon he seen us."

A rider had just reined his horse round and was loping toward them.

"He seen we was afoot," said Cheyenne.

"Mighty decent of him--" began Bartley, but Cheyenne waved the
suggestion aside. "Decent nothin'! A man afoot looks as queer to a
waddie as we did to that ole bull."

The puncher loped up, recognized Cheyenne, nodded to Bartley, and seemed
to hesitate. Cheyenne made no explanation of their plight, so the
puncher simply turned back and loped toward the ranch-house.

"Just steppin' over to tell Steve we're here," said Cheyenne, as
Bartley's face expressed astonishment.

They plodded on, came to a gate, limped down a long lane, came to
another gate, and there Senator Steve met them.

"I'd 'a' sent a man with a buckboard if I had known you planned to walk
over from Antelope," he asserted, and his eyes twinkled.