He went out as abruptly as he had entered, and he paused long enough outside to know that a silence marked his going. Then he heard Ed Koran’s voice depreciating him. Frankly he listened, lighting a cigarette.

“Aw––his mother was an actress, wasn’t she? That guy ain’t going to cut no ice around here whatever.”

“Looks an awful darn lot like Tom,” ventured Chilly. “I dunno––you take a Lorrigan––”

“Him? Lorrigan? Why, say! He may look like a Lorrigan, but he ain’t one. Tom’s damn right. He don’t set in. Why, like as not he’d––”

“Aw, cut out the gabbling!” Ed’s voice growled again. “It’s yore play, Bob.”

Stepping softly, Lance went on to the house. “I just––look like one!” he repeated under his breath. “Fine! At any rate,” he added dryly, “I’ve proved that I can go into the bunk house now and then.”

He went up and sang songs with Belle then, until after ten o’clock. He would have sung longer, but it happened that in the middle of a particularly pleasing “Ah-ee, oh-ee, hush-a-bye-ba-by287 yodel, Tom put his head out of the bedroom and implored Lance to for-the-Lord-sake go up on the Ridge to howl. So Lance forbore to finish the “ah-ee, oh-ee,” much to Belle’s disappointment.

“But you know Tom’s been out riding hard and not getting much sleep, so I guess maybe we better cut out the concert, honey,” she told Lance, getting up and laying her plump, brown arms across his shoulders. “My heavens, Lance, you kinda make me think the clock’s set back thirty years, when I look at you. You’re Tom, all over––and I did think you were going to be like me.”

Lance scowled just a little. “No, I’m not Tom all over––I’m Lance all over.”

“You’re Lorrigan all over,” Belle persisted. “And you’re just like Tom when he was your age. Good Lord, how time does slip away! Tom used to be so full of fun and say such funny things––and now it’s just ride and ride and work, and eat and sleep. Honey, I want you to know that I’m glad you learned something a little different. What’s the use of having a million, if you work yourself to death getting it? Look at the boys––look at Al and Duke. They’re like old men, the last year or two. We used to have such good times on the ranch, but we don’t any more––nobody ever thinks of anything but work.”