"You're from the East, then?" he asked.
"From Connecticut. I came out three years ago to stay with my brother, Robert Holliday."
"Yes. Of course. Joyce told me that Holliday had a ranch up this way. Ludlum's my name. I live down in the lower country at the siding."
Harry knew who Ludlum was—the stockman who shipped twice as many cattle as any other man living on the railway line. A new town had grown up around the station that had been put in to accommodate him.
"Don't you get lonesome up in these hills, young lady?" Ludlum inquired.
"Not very. There's too much to do. All summer there's work on the place and every winter I've taught school down on the flat."
"Saving up to get you an auto?" asked the stockman with a laugh.
"Saving up for cattle," Harry replied.
"So! You're going into stock, are you? I thought all the ranchers up here on the prairie were grain crazy."