fortunate owner of this ranch was forever secure against drought--that
scourge of the Western plains.

"It must have cost a mint of money to do all that piping and digging,"
suggested Bert as his eyes took in the vast extent of the operations.

"Yes, a good many thousands," assented his host, "but it pays to do
things right. I've already got back a good many times over all that it
cost. A single hot barren summer would destroy thousands of head of
cattle, to say nothing of the suffering of the poor brutes. And those
that didn't die would be so worn to skin and bone that they'd hardly pay
the expense of shipping them to market. The only way to make money in
ranching nowadays is to do things on a big scale and take advantage of
all up-to-date ideas.

"A good many people," he went on, "have an idea that if a man has a good
ranch and a few thousand head of stock he's found a short and easy way to
riches. That doesn't follow at all. There are just as many chances, just
as many ups and downs as in any other business. I know lots of men that
once were prosperous ranchers who to-day are down and out, and that too
through no fault of their own. Sometimes it's a disease that comes along
and sweeps away half of your herd at a single stroke. The drought gets
them in summer and a blizzard covers them up in winter. Then, too, there
are the cattle rustlers that, in the course of a season, often get away
with hundreds of them, change the brand and send them away to their
confederates. Many of them are stung by rattlesnakes. The wolves, in a
hard winter, pull down a lot of the cows, and sometimes, though not so
often, the grizzlies get after them. Take all these things into account,
figure up the payroll for the help, the freight charges on your
shipments, and it's no wonder that many a man finds a balance on the