“Mr. Shafer,” he said, “this is my superintendent, Mr. Hardy. Mr. Shafer represents the United States Forestry Service,” he added significantly.
“Ah, then you must bring us good news!” cried Hardy, holding out his hand eagerly.
“Yes,” answered the official modestly, but his speech ended with that word.
“I am convinced,” began Judge Ware, suddenly quelling all conversation by the earnestness of his demeanor. “I am convinced that in setting aside the 475 Salagua watershed as a National Forest Reserve, our President has added to the record of his good deeds an act of such consummate statesmanship that it will be remembered long after his detractors are forgotten. But for him, millions of acres of public land now set aside as reserves would still be open to the devastation of unrestricted grazing, or have passed irrevocably into the power of this infamous land ring which has been fighting on the floor of Congress to deprive the American people of their rights. But after both houses had passed a bill depriving the executive of his power to proclaim Forest Reserves––holding back the appropriations for the Forestry Service as a threat––he baffled them by a feigned acquiescence. In exchange for the appropriations, he agreed to sign the act––and then, after securing the appropriations, he availed himself of the power still vested in him to set aside this reserve and many other reserves for our children and our children’s children––and then, gentlemen, true to his word, he signed the bill!”
Judge Ware shook hands warmly with Mr. Shafer at the end of this speech and wished him all success in protecting the people’s domain. It was a great day for the judge, and as soon as Creede and the other cowmen came in with the day’s gather of cattle he hastened out to tell them the news.
“And now, gentlemen,” he said, holding up his hand to stop the joyous yelling, “I wish to thank you one and all for your confidence in me and in the good faith of our Government. It called for a high order of manhood, I am sure; but in not offering any armed resistance to the incoming of the sheep your loyalty has withstood its supreme test.”
“How’s that?” inquired Creede, scratching his head doubtfully. Then, divining the abysmal ignorance from which the judge was speaking, he answered, with an honest twinkle in his eye: “Oh, that’s all right, Judge. We always try to do what’s right––and we’re strong for the law, when they is any.”
“I’m afraid there hasn’t been much law up here in the past, has there?” inquired Mr. Shafer tactfully.
“Well, not so’s you’d notice it,” replied the big cowboy enigmatically. “But say, Judge,” he continued, making a point at the old gentleman’s linen duster, “excuse me, but that yaller letter stickin’ out of your pocket looks kinder familiar. It’s for me, ain’t it? Um, thanks; this detective outfit back in St. Louie is tryin’ to make me out a millionaire, or somethin’ like that, and I’m naturally interested.” He tore the letter open, extracted a second epistle from its depths and read it over gravely. “Well, 477 boys,” he observed, grinning cheerfully as he tucked it away in his shaps, “my luck always did run in bunches––I’m rich!”