"There's no use building air castles," he told himself. "If Mr. Ford hires me and knows anything about father, I'll find it out in due time. There's one good thing, if I do land the job, Red Top will be ten miles nearer—and I can get away without exciting so much comment as from Fairfax."
From time to time as Bob trudged along, he scanned the plains on both sides of the track.
Thanks to the milestones placed at the side of the roadbed he was able to keep count of the miles he walked. Just after he had passed the eighth stone from Fairfax, Bob was electrified to see a herd of cattle in the distance. Pausing, he gazed at them interestedly, noticing that they were moving steadily instead of grazing. What this meant, he was at a loss to understand until of a sudden he saw three men on horseback emerge from the herd and, with arms waving, ride like mad to the head of the line and gradually change the direction of the cattle away from the track.
No need was there to tell him the riders were cowboys, and Bob thrilled with excitement as he watched their wonderful riding. But he did not wait till they were out of sight. Instead, he quickened his pace, murmuring:
"The sooner I get to Mr. Ford's, the sooner I'll be a cowboy."
The walk on the track was tiresome, however, unaccustomed to such rough traveling as he was, and it was with a sigh of relief that he finally caught sight of a group of buildings, one of which had a red-top roof.
"That must be the place," he exclaimed and, quickly leaving the track, started across the prairie. But Bob found that walking on the ties was easy compared to forcing his way through waist-high grass and stubborn sage-brush.