father and I'm not ashamed of it. A thousand pounds--and I
brought it to America and to Texas, and got cattle."

Bud laughed and got up, hiding how the talk had struck deep
into the soul of him. "Then I'll go you one better, dad.
I'll get my own start."

"You'll be back home in six months, lad, saying you've
changed your mind," Bob Birnie predicted sharply, stung by
the tone of young Bud. "That," he added grimly, "or for a
full belly and a clean bed to crawl into."

Bud stood licking the cigarette he had rolled to hide an
unaccountable trembling of his fingers. "When I come back
I'll be in a position to buy you out! I'll borrow Skate and
Maverick, if you don't mind, till I get located somewhere."
He paused while he lighted the cigarette. "It's the custom,"
He reminded his father unnecessarily, "to furnish a man a
horse to ride and one to pack his bed, when he's fired."

"Ye've horses of yer own," Bob Birnie retorted, "and you've
no need to borrow."

Bud stood looking down at his father, plainly undecided. "I
don't know whether they're mine or not," he said after a
minute. "I don't know what it cost you to raise me. Figure it
up, if you haven't already, and count the time I've worked
for you. Since you've put me on a business basis, like
raising a calf to shipping age, let's be businesslike about
it. You are good at figuring your profits--I'll leave it to