railway grades of the plains below. Men and horses had fattened and
grown content, and the foreman had reason to know that Transley's bank
account had profited by the sudden shift in his operations. Linder felt
in his pocket for pipe and matches; then, with a frown, withdrew his
fingers. He himself had laid down the law that there must be no smoking
in the hay fields. A carelessly dropped match might in an hour nullify
all their labor.

Linder's frown had scarce vanished when hoof-beats pounded by the side
of his wagon, and a rider, throwing himself lightly from his horse,
dropped beside him in the hay.

"Thought I'd ride with you a spell, Lin. That Pete-horse acts like he
was goin' sore on the off front foot. Chuck at the Y.D. to-night?"

"That's what Transley says, George, and he knows."

"Ever et at the Y.D?"

"Nope."

"Know old Y.D?"

"Only to know his name is good on a cheque, and they say he still throws
a good rope."

George wriggled to a more comfortable position in the hay. He had a
feeling that he was approaching a delicate subject with consummate
skill. After a considerable silence he continued--