at fever heat. The time slipped by so rapidly that they were genuinely
astonished when the blowing of a horn announced that it was time for
dinner.

Sandy approached them as they were turning away reluctantly.

"I'd shore like to have you young fellers take dinner with us at the
bunkhouse, if you care to," he said. "I'd like to have the boys get
acquainted with yer. Maybe we won't have all the trimmin's that you'd get
at the boss's table, but I guess we can manage to fill yer up."

"That's a pretty big contract, Sandy," laughed Bert; "but we'll be only
too glad to come. Just let me speak to Mrs. Melton, so that she won't
wait for us and we'll be with you in a jiffy."

Mrs. Melton smilingly acquiesced, and Melton himself, who knew how much
of the boys' enjoyment of their visit would depend upon friendly
relations with the men about the ranch, gave his hearty approval.

A dozen or more of the cowboys were at the house when they arrived, all
ravenous for "grub." Outside of the door was a broad bench on which was a
basin, which the men in turn replenished from a hogshead standing near,
and in which they plunged their hands and faces, emerging dripping to dry
themselves on a roller towel behind the door. The boys did the same, and
as they came in were introduced by Sandy to the rest of the men. There
was a breezy absence of formality that was most refreshing after the more
or less artificial life of the East, and the boys warmed at once toward
these hardy specimens of manhood, who looked them straight in the eyes
and crushed their hands in their hearty grip. This wild, free spirit of
the plains was akin to their own, and although their mode of life had