ranch. The driver boy, whom I had heard called Dick, was looking for
me, evidently at Miss Sampson's order, and he led me up to the house.

It was even bigger than I had conceived from a distance, and so old that
the adobe bricks were worn smooth by rain and wind. I had a glimpse in
at several doors as we passed by.

There was comfort here that spoke eloquently of many a freighter's trip
from Del Rio. For the sake of the young ladies, I was glad to see things
little short of luxurious for that part of the country.

At the far end of the house Dick conducted me to a little room, very
satisfactory indeed to me. I asked about bunk-houses for the cowboys,
and he said they were full to overflowing.

"Colonel Sampson has a big outfit, eh?"

"Reckon he has," replied Dick. "Don' know how many cowboys. They're
always comin' an' goin'. I ain't acquainted with half of them."

"Much movement of stock these days?"

"Stock's always movin'," he replied with a queer look.

"Rustlers?"

But he did not follow up that look with the affirmative I expected.

"Lively place, I hear--Linrock is?"