The news was almost too good to be believed. Dudley had had visions of managing a ranch some day far in the future, and perhaps even of possessing one when he had accumulated sufficient money. And now——
"It is as large as this," said Mr. Blunt, "and you will start with an ample stock of cattle. You will be in complete control of the place, and will merely report to me on occasion. So that you may not be too much alone, I will build a house close to the borders of the forest, through which paths shall be cut. There Harold and I will take up our residence. That is, if our young friend cares to remain and accept the post of manager on this estancia."
"Would he accept it?" Harold's eyes were shining brightly. There was a suspicious twitch about the corners of his mouth as he blurted out an acceptance.
"Rather!" he said. "That would be jolly! We shall still continue the same happy family."
Little remains to be told of the doings of Dudley Compton and his friends. In three years the estancia which he managed had become a model establishment, which commanded the admiration of the neighboring owners. But there was one great defect. Dudley was lonely. He was a long ride from Mr. Blunt and Harold, and at nights the hours hung heavy on his hands. Need the reader be surprised to hear that our hero was more than interested in the arrival of Mr. Blunt's daughter, that his visits to his old employer became noticeably frequent, and that when some months had gone by he was able to persuade the young lady who had arrived that his own little house on the neighboring ranch was comfortable? The two young people were married within a year, the gauchos from far and near collecting together to cheer them and drink their health. And in due time, as the years rolled by, and age began to tell on Mr. Blunt, his two young managers became partners on the ranches. To this day they are there, white-haired and somewhat stiff and aged. But that firm friendship, commenced when at school and renewed after a painful break, still exists between them. The wide, rolling plains have been their home ever since those early days when first they made the acquaintance of the Roughriders of the Pampas.