"Come on, Ted, be a good fellow," said Stella, with a laugh.
"All right," said Ted. "How many do you want cut out?" Ted was looking at the colonel.
"I'd like to have the whole herd," answered the colonel.
"They're not for sale. They're going up to the high range for the rest of the summer, then to market, and I hope it will be a fairer one than this. But for the sake of the young ladies, who have more influence with this bunch in a minute than all the officers at Fort Felton have in a year, I'll cut out enough for the beef issue. How many head do you need for the Indians?"
"About five hundred," answered the colonel, in a very different voice from that he had used the night before.
"Bud, cut out, count, and deliver five hundred head at the post pasture. Stella, we're going on. Where's your aunt?"
"Up at the post. Say, Ted Strong, don't believe for a minute that I'm not going, too. I'll get a wagon for auntie, and we'll hit your trail in a couple of hours."