Of all her journeyings about Idaho that ride to Ludlum's was the one that Harry remembered most vividly. The start before dawn, the ponies fresh and eager, the morning star ahead, white and dazzling in the east, the familiar road at that unfamiliar hour so strangely beautiful—above all, the realization that this day was to make her actually the owner of a herd—all filled her with a wonderful, exhilarating joy.

She and Rob were riding fast, scarcely speaking to each other. They had rounded the foot of the butte that separated Harry's land from the Bianes' and were almost in front of the Biane house when, as they galloped along the fence, Rob's horse leaped and gave a snort of fright.

"Take care, there!" Rob called back as he regained his seat.

Instinctively Harry reined in and glanced fearfully over her shoulder. There was nothing much to be seen—only the elder Biane loading something into the wagon that stood in front of the door.

"I wonder whether Joe was hurt worse than they wanted to say," Rob remarked to Harry, and then called out, "Hi, there, Biane; need any help? Joe all right this morning?"

"All right, all right! We need not'ting at all." As Rob halted, the Portuguese started forward and waved his arm with a threatening gesture. "Not'ting is the mattare here! Go on!"

"Polite beggar," Rob commented, laughing as they set spurs to their horses and rode on.

It was nine o'clock when, after crossing the foothills, they sighted, far to the south, the oasis of shadow that indicated the poplar trees of Ludlum's siding. The railway crosses the Snake River there, full forty miles south of Camas Prairie, in the heart of the sand-and-sagebrush desert. When a new irrigation tract was opened, and a rush of settlers came in the siding began to gather a settlement round itself. Their ranches lay below the big ditch along the base of the foothill rise, and their scattered forties and eighties of alfalfa were the first verdure that the travelers from the hills had seen.

As Harry gazed forward along the road winding through the sagebrush toward Ludlum's, she saw in fancy the slow-moving string of cattle that would soon be coming back over that road to her. Her herd! Already she thought of them as hers; for when she had made the second payment in December it would be no time at all until the increase from the herd would pay the rest of the debt.

"Things are getting pretty dry already," Rob remarked, as he gazed at the passing country. "If the irrigation water fails these fellows, and it may easy enough, there was so little snow last winter, they won't get much late hay."

"Why, I think the crops look fine," Harry answered gayly; "and as for us, we have all the water we need. Our springs were never known to fail, now, were they? We've miles of free range that should last into October, and we can certainly buy all the hay we need down on the flat."

"I hope you're right," Rob answered. "Just the same, I'm going to stop at some of the ranches along here and see what they're asking for the first crop of alfalfa."

The next ranch was an eighty-acre square of silk-green, rippling verdure, with a small unpainted frame house at the edge of it, like a raft anchored on the border of turbulent water. Unfortunately, there was only a woman at home, and she explained that the men from that and the next two ranches on the road had gone to put up hay on the Constable place across the river.

"If we can get through with Ludlum in time, I believe I'd better ride across to Constable's," Rob said as they turned the last corner and rode along Ludlum's fence.

Harry assented vaguely. She was absorbed in admiring the splendid ranch before them. The house grounds of the thousand-acre farm lay facing the road; the railway ran along the other side of the place where the new town had been laid out. For half a mile behind the house extended a double row of immense Lombardy poplars, making a windbreak against the violent west winds; and in their shelter were ranged the orchard, garden and the group of barns, sheds, bunk houses, cookhouse and other out-buildings that pertained to an old-time ranch.

Water was running in the irrigation ditches, a windmill whirred with its pleasant sound of industry, miles of alfalfa and pasture shimmered in the morning sunshine, and in other fields cows with young calves were feeding. The scene gave a feeling of long-settled prosperity, of solid wealth that no "bad year," no "dull market," could affect.

"And all this has been done with cattle!" Harry exclaimed, as she looked around her. "How thankful I am I've started a herd!"

"I wonder, though, how he got his start," Rob remarked. "With one cow or with credit?"

"I dare you to ask him," said Harry.

Rob only laughed and swung out of his saddle in front of the door. Several children ran out and surrounded them with friendly curiosity, and a pretty, smiling little woman followed close behind.

"I thought I recognized Mr. Holliday," Mrs. Ludlum said when Rob had introduced his sister. "The minute I laid eyes on him I knew I'd seen him here before."

"No use trying to fool a real Westerner," Rob answered laughing. "Once you're seen in this country you're a marked man."

"Oh, now, I wouldn't call you that, yet. You ain't never done nothing worse, so far's I know, than turn in here once for the night when your team ran away from you, and then offer to pay for your bed and board."

"You'll never forgive that, will you?" said Rob. "Well, this time we've come to carry off several square meals at once without paying—except with promises. In other words, we're here for cattle. Is Mr. Ludlum round?"

"Well, there! He just ain't," said Mrs. Ludlum, who had seated her guests in the big veranda rocking-chairs. "Ludlum's went out to the South Side to look up his hay, but he'll be back for dinner. You'll stay overnight anyhow. Oh, yes, now! It ain't so often you come this way, and we've always wanted to get acquainted with your sister. We've heard how smart she is; teaching school and milking and doing chores like she was born to it."

"Yes, sis keeps the traces stiff pretty well," Rob assured her.

"Our ranch isn't much after seeing this one," Harry said quickly, pleased yet embarrassed by her brother's praise.

"Well, now. Don't let that give you a set-back," said Mrs. Ludlum. "Why, when we come here, twenty-five years ago, we had the same layout as you. Raw sagebrush and no water, except the river. You've got us beat there. Didn't I live in the sheep wagon, too, for a year, until we got ahead enough to build us a shack? All this you see now didn't come in one jump."

Such words were food and drink to Harry. As she listened to the accounts of the Ludlums' trials, mistakes and bad luck, she saw that she and Rob were not the only ones who had made blunders. By dinner time they were exchanging experiences as if they had known one another for years. Harry was almost sorry when Ludlum came in and the topic of conversation changed.

Rob, on the contrary, was glad to see the stockman. "It may save me a trip over to the South Side," he said, "if you can tell me what sort of hay crop they've got over there."

"It's a good crop, all right, but it's about all contracted for."

"Already!" Rob exclaimed. "What's the hurry?"

"Nothing. The sheepmen always buy early, and this year there's some extra cattle in the country, and some of 'em'll have to be fed this winter—those that ain't fat enough to ship by fall."

"From what we've heard of them they won't ever be fat enough," said Rob, and he went on to tell what Garnett had reported.

"I've seen 'em worse than that and come off the range fat," Ludlum said, laughing. "You needn't worry about them taking all the hay."

Nevertheless, Rob decided to ride out. "If we can get this business of ours settled up early," he suggested, "I'll leave Harry here for the night and go over there."

"Sure," Ludlum answered promptly. "We'll go and take a look at the stock on pasture, and you can pick what you like. Yes, come along," he said to his wife, and added, grinning, to the others, "That woman has to have a finger in everything; you'd think she'd raised the whole outfit herself."

"Well, I guess I did raise the start of it!" his wife exclaimed. "I fed a dozen calves by hand until they could eat grass, and it's from them he got his real start of a herd. Come on, Miss Holliday. I'll tell you which ones to pick." And, putting her arm through Harry's she led the way down the path.

It was done at last. Rob and Harry had chosen thirty Durham cows, calves, yearlings and two "coming two's." The price was to be one thousand dollars, one fourth down, one fourth on December 1, when, if all went well, the loan would be renewed. The afternoon was only half gone when they came out of the notary public's office.

"I'll leave you here," Rob said, mounting his horse as the others got into Ludlum's automobile. "Don't forget, sis, if I'm not back to-night, that you are to start on in the morning and meet me up the road near that ranch we stopped at on our way down."

"I've half a mind not to let you go inside a week," Mrs. Ludlum declared as they started back to the house. "Men folks always take it for granted that a woman's got to be home every minute, whether she's needed or not. I'll bet you haven't slept away from home two nights running since you filed on your homestead. Have you, now?"

"Plenty of times," said Harry gayly. "You forget that I taught school on the flat for three winters."

"She caught you that time, Ma," said Ludlum, grinning.

"A lot that worries me! Any one that can catch me is welcome to his pay. My dad tried to make a school-teacher out of me, but he gave it up as a bad job. Said he guessed I'd make a better cow puncher. He'd have been some surprised to know a girl could be smart at both."

The way Mrs. Ludlum's brown eyes beamed at Harry warmed the girl's heart.

"I'd rather ride than teach," Harry declared, "but the only way I could save money to go into cattle was by teaching. You see, Rob insisted that besides the money for the first payment I should have something for running expenses."

"You don't mean to say you saved for that! How much, child?"

"Two hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred fifty! Whoopee! Did you hear that, Ludlum? Why, you don't no more need that than a rattlesnake needs two tails! Instead of saltin' that down, you'd ought to have put it into a decent-sized bunch of beef."

"We thought it safer to save something," said Harry, feeling her cheeks redden.

"There, now. She's mad with me." Mrs. Ludlum's arm went round Harry's waist in a conciliatory hug. "You're the same sort I was myself—full of spunk as an apple is of cider. That's the sort of thing that makes success. I'll bet right now you wanted to put that extra cash into beef, didn't you? Of course! See her smile! And that's what you're going to do. Pa and I'll fix you up all right."

"But two hundred and fifty dollars won't buy many cows," Harry began.

"It won't buy blooded white-face, but you've got a plenty of them. What you need is some scrub stock; the sort we started with. They'll rustle better for feed, stand harder weather and come through where your high-class critters will knock under. You take thirty scrubs at six hundred, pay two hundred fifty cash for 'em and let the other three fifty go on time, and I'll lay you even money they'll make more for you than your 'ristocrats that cost you twice as much. Ain't that right, Pa?"

"What you say goes, I guess," the stockman agreed, with a whimsical glance at Harry as they got out of the car in front of the house. "You always were the boss, you know."

"Sure. I have to be. The men would just mill round in a peck measure till kingdom come if the women didn't drag 'em into the road to success. That's what the girl here is going to show her brother. Show him she can do all the rounding up and cutting out this fall. Then she'll sell off enough to buy her some hay. Pa here'll pick you a good bunch, deary. They're all out on range now, but he'll see you get what's comin' to you."

As Harry listened to this lively mixture of plans for her and praise of her, Rob's decision that they should take only thirty head suddenly lost its finality. These people knew much more than Rob did about the cattle business. Besides, Rob had not put a cent of his own into the white-face; why should she not do as she liked with her own money—put what she had left into thirty more? That, with Rob's bunch, would give them an even hundred.

Abruptly she stopped in the path. "I've decided," she said. "I'm going to take the scrubs. Thirty head. I guess I'll come out all right. Why not?"

Her confidence remained as long as she stayed with the Ludlums. It was only after she had bidden them good-by the next morning that she began to wonder what Rob would say. At first he might disapprove. The likelihood that he would do so grew upon her as she drew near their meeting place; the arguments that had appeared so sound while Mrs. Ludlum talked now sounded very flimsy.

At last she heard the pound of hoofs behind her and, turning, saw Rob.

"I came near not getting here this morning, after all," he began. "Nobody'll sell hay now, or even set a price on it. They're all waiting to see how the second cutting turns out. This pest of outside cattle has sent every one on the stampede for high-priced hay. My, but I'm thankful you've got that two hundred and fifty in reserve! We'll need it, all right."

He looked at her sharply. She was facing him with a smile on her lips, eyes unflinching, but without a word.

"What is it?" he asked quietly. "You haven't heard the bank's busted?"

"No. But I've nothing in it. I bought thirty more cattle, scrubs, at six hundred, and paid down my other two hundred and fifty."

It was told! With the relief, her nervous shakiness vanished, and she rushed into the account of what she had done. She watched Rob's face for the slow smile that would reluctantly acknowledge her good judgment; but it did not come. Instead, Rob stared straight ahead, and deep lines appeared in his face, as if he were very tired. Harry tried to interest him by quoting Mrs. Ludlum, her experience and advice, but Rob answered colorlessly or not at all.

"No doubt it was easy enough twenty-five years ago," he said at last, "but there are too many people in here now that have got something to say about who's going to make all the money in cattle. If the ranchers won't sell their hay, we'll have to do without. That's all."

"I guess we can get all we need on the flat," Harry said quickly. "They aren't short of water up there, thank goodness."

"Yes, plenty of water so far; but don't forget it isn't too late for the June freeze."

The June freeze! Harry had forgotten that yearly menace. Only the year before it had hit the prairie and had wiped out every little "truck patch," blackened every acre of potatoes, and seared thousands of acres of alfalfa. As if the thin fingers of that very June frost had folded round her wrist, Harry felt her warm blood chill.

Fear, however, was not natural to her. The reaction came, and through the following week, while waiting for the new cattle to arrive, her confidence in ultimate victory renewed itself.

Ludlum had told her that he would send the white-face bunch up by riders who would round up the scrubs on the way and bring the whole lot in at once. Daily Harry expected to see them come down the draw. At the same time she was waiting for Rob, who had been gone for several days hunting hay on the flat. By sunset on Saturday she had given up hope of seeing any one that week; but as she was feeding the calves, in the corral, a hostile growl from 'Thello made her turn quickly to see a slow-moving string of cattle wind down the draw.

"My herd!" she exclaimed, and dropped her empty bucket. "They've come."

There they were, shuffling the dust into an obscuring cloud and beginning to bellow at the sight of the cows in the barnyard.

"Where do you want 'em?" one of the riders called to the girl, as she hurried to meet them.

"Right there, until we can cut out the calves and bring them inside. Just move them along the fence so I can count them, will you?"

"Oh, you'll be able to count 'em without their millin' round none," the rider answered; "they're tired enough to set for their photos without stirrin' a hair."

Was it only because they were tired that they looked so queer, Harry wondered as she moved about among them. A puzzled look replaced her pleased smile. The Durhams were right enough: big, solid, beefy creatures. But the scrubs—was that the way scrubs always looked? She had seen plenty of them on the range, but never had she noticed that they were like these thirty strange odd-come-shorts: here a cow no bigger than a good-sized calf, but carrying the horns of a Texas steer; over there a Jersey-colored steer with a head as big as a buffalo's; calves of every mixture of breed and of no breed at all. She was still standing studying them when she heard the soft thump of hoofs and the voices of two men, and saw Rob and Garnett riding toward her.

"He roped me a couple of miles back and fetched me along," said the forest ranger, pretending as usual that he was there only through necessity. "Told me you were going to have beef stew and dumplings, and he was afeared he couldn't eat it all himself."

He had dropped from his saddle and come up beside her, stepping stiffly on his high-heeled boots as he looked fixedly down at her.

"Beef stew?" She made an effort at a lively reply. "I guess there are some critters in that bunch that won't be good for much else."

"What did you really expect?" Rob inquired mildly.

"I hoped they'd develop enough beef to pay us to ship them for stew," she retorted. "Of course I knew scrubs weren't like blooded stock, but Ludlum said he'd pick mine out."

"The word scrubs," Rob reminded her as they began to work the calves inside the gate, "is like charity: it covers a multitude of sins. And when you're dealing with the Ludlums—well, what fat there might be in the herd is generally in the fire; as at present."

"What is he talking about?" Harry asked.

"Aw! Nothin' much. Some of the critters that were over the other side of the river have been driven in here on the range and——"

"Those wild, starved things from outside? But they can't! This range belongs to us ranchers." The significance of the thing was coming to her. "What right have outsiders to ship stock in here? We'll drive them into the river! They shan't clean up the grazing."

"I guess you wouldn't want to run 'em into the river," Garnett said reflectively, "not if you're buying cattle from Ludlum on time."

"Ludlum? What has he to do with it?"

"Nothing much," answered Garnett, slowly, "except that about five hundred of the scrubs are his, and if he knew that you were running 'em off he might take it kind of bad."