"I think I'll stay," answered the lad after a moment of indecision.
"You'll go!"
Tad shook his head.
"I've pulled them through, even if I have had quite a time of it. Now I'm going to stay with them. I guess I can stand it as well as any of your men could under similar circumstances. They wouldn't desert the herd, would they?"
Stallings glanced at him sharply.
"All right," he said. "If you insist upon it. By good rights I ought to order you in. But I understand just how you feel, kid. Here, take a drink of this brandy. It will brace you up," said the foreman, producing a flask from his pocket. "I keep it for emergencies, as the men are not allowed to use it while on duty."
"Thank you," answered the boy, with an emphatic shake of the head. "I don't drink."
"I understand. But this is medicine," urged the foreman. "It will set you right up."
"I haven't the least doubt of it," grinned the boy. "But I don't want to be set up that way. You'll excuse me, Mr. Stallings. Don't urge me, please."
The foreman replaced the flask in his pocket, a queer smile flickering about the corners of his mouth.