too long, and he must know it. So you see, Uncle Fred, after all this storm may clear the air; and when it passes by perhaps you may be glad to take up the reins here again as manager for me!”
The man looked at him with tears in his eyes, so greatly was he affected by this show of confidence in him. He seized hold of Adrian’s hand, and squeezed it in an almost frenzied fashion, while he went on to say in a tone husky with emotion:
“What you say sounds too good to ever come true, son; because, you see, I’m her husband through thick and thin, because the law made me so; and where I am she has a right to be also. No, I must go away and try to start fresh somewhere else. But,” he added, while the old fighting spirit flashed into his blue eyes once more; “if you think there’s going to be war with the Walker tribe before this thing’s threshed out, why, I might defer my going till it’s all over, and the returns in. If so be I got a chance to settle my differences with that lawless brother of hers, Hatch Walker, I’d feel easier in my mind, anyhow, so I’ll try and hang out yet awhile, Adrian, my boy!”
[CHAPTER XVIII.—THE SHEEP AND THE GOATS.]
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Uncle Fred,” Adrian told him, realizing what a struggle must be going on inside, when the other talked in this strain. “Things can’t be any worse for you than they seem right now; and who knows what might turn up to bring about a change. Anyhow, I believe in sticking it out. If it gets to the worst, why, between you and me there might be a chance for you to run down to Arizona, and be the overseer at the Mackay place; because I happen to know that his foreman, Si Ketcham, is going to marry a girl who owns a ranch, and that he expects to throw up his job with Donald’s dad pretty soon.”
“Oh! that would be just the thing, if only she didn’t know where I’d gone!” exclaimed the other, eagerly; “but let’s forget my troubles for a while, Adrian, and talk of other things. You’ll want to know all about matters here, how many cattle have been carried off the last year, and what’s left. Come with me into this bunk house, where we can sit down, and have it over with.”
As they turned the corner of the long, low building they came upon a crouching figure. It was Mr. Thomas, who started to limp away at their approach.
“Who’s this tramp?” asked Uncle Fred, quickly.
“He’s a poor fellow,” explained Adrian, “whose horse died under him while he was on the way to see if he could get a job with you, taking care of the ranch books. All he asks is his board in payment for his services. I took him back of me on my pony, thinking we might keep him, for a while anyhow, till he felt better. He’s sick now, and badly off, you see.”
“I should say I was in a tough corner all around,” mumbled the man; “and p’raps it’d be better for me to go as soon as I’m able. Don’t bother about me; I c’n hang out around the bunk house here, and get a bite now and then, till there’s a wagon going off, when mebbe you’ll let me ride. I’ve changed my mind about wantin’ to take up a job here; too much excitement to suit me. I’m all of a tremble right now with hearing what I did.”