"If I remember, you called it being fired, in your letter," Mr. Oliver suggested with a twinkle in his eyes. "What led up to that?"
"Slack trade in the last case. I'd like to think it was only the grudge a bullying clerk had against me in the other."
"Then, if you had been allowed, you would have stayed with the milling business, though you didn't care for it?"
"Yes," responded Frank. "Anyway, I'd have stayed until I could have got hold of something I liked better."
Mr. Oliver nodded in a way which suggested that he was pleased with the answer.
"Well," he said, "that brings us to the question why you came out here. Was it because you had heard that it was a good country for hunting and fishing?"
Frank's face flushed. "No, sir," he replied, "I wanted to earn a living, and I understood that a"—he was going to say a live man, but thought better of it—"any one who wasn't too particular could generally come across something to do quickest in the West. In fact, I'd like to begin at once. After buying my ticket and getting odd meals I've only two or three dollars left."
"Two-fifty, to be precise. My sister took your clothes away to mend. Now, it's possible that I might manage to get you into the office of some lumber or general trading company in one of the cities. How would that do?"
"I'd rather go on to the land. I'd like to be a rancher."
"How much do you know about ranching?"