"Father!" he called.
Another moment and the panting pony stood still near the wagon, his sides heaving.
Donald dismounted and ran to meet his father.
"Well, well!" was Mr. Clark's first exclamation. "How is this? I sent a pale-faced American boy to the range and I get an Indian in exchange!"
"I suppose I am tanned," laughed Donald. "I know my hands are. As for my face—I have not seen it since I started. We don't have looking-glasses in the hills."
"And you enjoyed your trip?"
"I had the time of my life, father! It is simply bully up there. I wish you had been along."
"I am planning to go back with you in two or three weeks. It seemed a pity to bring you down, but I did need you, Don. If it had only been that I missed you I should not have sent, no matter how much I wanted to see you."
"I was glad to come, sir. How is everything at Crescent?"
"Going well. We are getting in a big crop of alfalfa from the south meadow. That is why I wanted you. You will now have to turn farmer and pitch hay for a while."