the slanting rays of the setting sun. On all sides stretched the vast
prairies on which grazed the hundreds of cattle--not only from the Bar U
ranch, but from the Centre O, and others.

"Yes, that's our place," said Dave. For the present, at least, this man
need not know his secret, though he might find it out soon enough. "And I
guess you'll be glad of a chance to lie down; won't you?"

"Indeed I will," was the answer.

A moment later the two rode up toward the main ranch buildings. The
cowboys had come in from their day's labors, and were washing themselves
at their bunk houses, in readiness for supper. From the quarters of Hop
Loy, the Chinese cook, came a grateful odor.

"That certainly smells good!" exclaimed Mr. Bellmore.

The cowpunchers looked curiously at the drooping figure on the horse that
followed Dave. It needed but a glance from their sharp eyes to tell that
the man was hurt. Mr. Carson came out.

"Well, Dave," he began, "I was just wondering where you were. Are the
cattle all right?"

"They are now, Dad, but they weren't for a time. They got out of the
corral, but Pocus Pete and I got them back again. I'll tell you about that
later.

"Here's a gentleman who needs help. He's a Mr. Bellmore from Chicago
interested in irrigation. He was in the rock-grove, caught by the foot. I