him the English rancher of good family; usually a man of fine courtesy
within reasonable bounds; always a hard hitter when those bounds are
exceeded. Y.D. knew that he had made at least a tactical blunder;
his sensitiveness about his brand would arouse, rather than allay,
suspicion. His cheeks burned with a heat not of the afternoon sun as
he submitted to this unaccustomed discipline, but he could not bring
himself to express regret for his rudeness.

"Well, now that the shower is over, we'll move on," he said, turning his
back on Wilson and "clucking" to his horse.

Y.D. followed the stream which afterwards bore his name as far as the
Upper Forks. As he entered the foothills he found all the advantages
of the plains below, with others peculiar to the foothill country. The
richer herbage, induced by a heavier precipitation; the occasional belts
of woodland; the rugged ravines and limestone ridges affording
good natural protection against fire; abundant fuel and water
everywhere--these seemed to constitute the ideal ranch conditions. At
the Upper Forks, through some freak of formation, the stream divided
into two. From this point was easy access into the valleys of the Y.D.
and the South Y.D., as they were subsequently called. The stream rippled
over beds of grey gravel, and mountain trout darted from the rancher's
shadow as it fell across the water. Up the valley, now ruddy gold with
the changing colors of autumn, white-capped mountains looked down from
amid the infinite silences; and below, broad vistas of brown prairie
and silver ribbons of running water. Y.D. turned his swarthy face to
the sunlight and took in the scene slowly, deliberately, but with a
commercialized eye; blue and white and ruddy gold were nothing to him;
his heart was set on grass and water and shelter. He had roved enough,
and he had a reason for seeking some secluded spot like this, where he