Sunset comes early in the foothills in November, and it was dark by the time the girls reached home. As Harry was opening the big gate at the foot of the lane, Isita exclaimed:

"There's a light at the house!"

"O goody! Then Rob is here." Harry sent a halloo to give word of her arrival. "You go right inside, Isita," she said when they reached the garden gate, "and I'll take the team to the barn."

As she passed the back yard she saw a figure moving there in the dark.

"So you got here first?" she called gayly.

"Time some one was gettin' here," Garnett's voice answered unexpectedly from the hay that he was forking out to the impatient herd.

"Yes. I thought I left you in charge." Rob had come up and was speaking with assumed sternness. "I'd pretty near decided you'd left the country with the Bianes."

"How on earth did you know they'd gone?"

"As we were coming in we met the sheriff going out. He'd been over there with half a dozen warrants for the old man and Joe. Seems they've been stealing sheep and cattle for a good while. That's where our stock went, of course. Garnett told me about finding the hides. Fine neighbors, weren't they? Well, I'm glad we're rid of them."

"Rob," Harry began and stopped. It was hard to tell him. "Rob, they didn't all go. Isita is here."

"Isita here! Well, of all things! Where is she?"

"Up at the house. I wanted to explain to you before you saw her. She's here to stay, you see. I ought not to have kept her without asking you, but there was no time. And it seemed so dreadful to leave her with that father. I know I'm adding another burden to you, but——"

"Yes, it's terrible. I know she'll ruin us; big strapping creature like that. She'll eat as much as two cow-punchers. I'll harness right up again and ship her on the next train."

Harry was relieved that he took it so lightly, but she was still more relieved by the new life in his voice.

"Bobby! What is it? You've had good luck?" she said as they started toward the barn. "You sold my herd." She felt an immense relief and at the same time her heart sank at having to let them go. "Who took them? Did you get enough to pay Ludlum?"

"A thousand." Bob ignored the first question.

"A thousand! But we'll need more than that."

"Of course, I know. But haven't I been making wages haying and harvesting, besides what I had in the bank?"

"But you'll need that and more, too, for hay. Did you get hay?"

"A hundred tons of the finest, and we're going there to feed."

"O Bobby!" she could not go on. She leaned against the end of the stall and stared after him as he poured oats into the mangers for the horses. No matter what went wrong, he always found a way out and pulled her out, too. "If it weren't for you," she began.

"Of course, I know. It's an endless tug of war between us to see which one can get along without the other."

"Say!" cried Garnett, coming across the stable yard toward them. "Can't you folks sandwich those argyments in between the supper food? Little lady up at the house says she has boiled water enough to scald a hog and yet supper ain't real ready neither. Says she's waitin' on the boss for orders."

"Never mind. When I went off yesterday I left things so that five minutes with a frying pan would finish them."

It was a very little more than that before the food was sizzling. The two girls were busy setting the table, when heavy steps thumped across the porch, and some one knocked sharply.

"Come in!" Rob called and moved toward the door, while the three others watched. Every one gave a start of surprise as it was shoved open from without and Ludlum faced them.

Red-faced and scowling with fatigue and annoyance, with his eyes gleaming maliciously upon the cheery scene before him, he stood against the blackness of the night like a messenger of evil.

"Come in, won't you?" Harry said politely. "Sit down." With a mutter the stockman dropped heavily into the nearest chair, took off his hat and mopped his face.

"Dusty riding round here now," said Rob.

"Yep. We need rain."

"I hope it holds off until we've pulled out of here."

"What's that? You're not wintering here? Haven't sold out, have you?" Chagrin was in Ludlum's face and voice as he glanced from Rob to Harry.

"Oh, no," Rob replied, with a smile. "We couldn't get hay enough up here to carry us through, that's all."

"It'll be different next year," Harry said with a note of triumph in her tone.

"Different, eh?" Ludlum sneered. "Because you've got the herd law through, you think you're fixed. I daresay that's the argyment you used to push the thing; told the rest of these rim-rock squatters that, if it wasn't for that confounded 'millionaire cattle trust' that was stealin' the grazing, you'd all get to be millionaires yourselves in no time."

"We told 'em it was the only thing to do to keep from being busted up and driven out entirely by fellows like you and Joyce," said Rob.

"And you think that because you ain't gettin' all you want it gives you the right to drive us out; hog all the free range yourselves. You're kinda mean, too, ain't you?"

"If you hadn't been so grasping in the first place," said Harry, "we shouldn't have had to fight you. We've taken only what we deserve to have."

"And I suppose you think you're going to keep it!" Ludlum sneered. "Why, my little lady, do you think your herd law is going to keep us stockmen, with thousands of critters to feed, out of these hills? Not much. We've grazed here long before you ever come in, and we'll be grazing long after you've dropped back where you come from. You think you can keep tabs on the stock that comes in here! Why, you couldn't begin to. How'll you know whether there's herders with 'em or not?"

"We'll know whether your cattle bother us," Rob warned him; "and if they do break in and spoil our crops, it's you that pay the damages now, not us fellows who have to pay you for your bloated critters. You don't get hurt, you know, unless you break the law. You big fellows are trying to push us off the earth. Maybe this'll show you that you don't own it all yet."

"And I guess," said Ludlum, "the only way to teach you smart Alecks that you can't run everything is to clean you out of this country right now."

"Yes?"

"Yes!" Ludlum shouted, pounding the table with a knotted fist "And according to that idea I've decided not to extend your time on them cattle. You've showed you're a tender-foot at the business, you and the girl there losin' stock right along. You're a joke, and there ain't room for jokes in the beef business. So you just take your little bunch of stuff and run on. The time on your mortgage expires next Monday, December first, and it'll be foreclosed to the minute. See?" He grinned with savage satisfaction.

"Foreclosed?" Rob said calmly. "Of course you mean unless we can pay back your loan."

"Oh, certainly," Ludlum replied with savage irony, "if you can pay me that thousand——"

"One thousand one hundred and fifty-five dollars," Rob said. "I intended to send you a check for the amount as soon as we got to town, but I can give it to you right now. Saves me a stamp, too."

Without glancing at Ludlum, who, smothering in his astonishment and fury, stared motionless, Rob pulled his check book from his hip pocket and wrote the check. He laid it on the table before the stockman.

"Now if you will write a receipt, which Mr. Garnett will witness, everything will be straight between us. You can send me a discharge of the mortgage when you get back to town." Ludlum bent over the check, looked at it hard and muttered under his breath. When Harry silently handed him the pen he took it with a scowl and wrote a receipt. Then he pocketed the check, picked up his hat, glared venomously at the four who were watching him and without another word flung himself through the doorway and slammed the door after him.

"It's mighty good to know, just the same, that you can't make us suffer any longer," Rob said, with a deep bow toward the door.

"I kind of thought a while back there he wasn't going to trouble nobody any more," Garnett said, with a sigh, of relief; "he acted like he'd swallered the torpedo he meant for us, and it wasn't agreein' so well."

"Our supper won't agree with us, either, if it sits on the stove any longer," said Harry. "And now you can tell me all about where we're going this winter and who bought the cattle. Was it a regular stock buyer or a rancher?"

"A rancher."

"And where did you find, the hay? At the ends of the earth, I suppose."

"No. Not so far out. Same fellow that is going to take the cattle sold me the hay. He'll take part pay in work; I'm going to feed the whole outfit together."

"That sounds pretty fine. Is there a shack near by where we can live?"

"Oh, sort of a shack!" Rob admitted reluctantly, while Garnett threw his head back and shook with soundless laughter.

"What's the matter?" Harry inquired. "Is there a house there or not, Garnett?"

"Sure. Didn't he tell you?"

"I'll bet it's nothing but a barn," Harry declared, whereat both boys tittered again. "If I had time I'd write down to the man and find out what sort of house he's giving us," she added. "By the way, you haven't told me his name."

"Let's see. What was the name of that old skinflint?" Rob asked, scratching his head and turning to Garnett.

"Say! If you can't remember, how do you expect me to?" the forest ranger exclaimed, grinning.

"You two certainly are silly to-night," Harry said loftily. But at the same moment she was thinking how good it was to see Rob his old self once more. And what a thing it was to have a friend like Garnett—so full of fun and yet, underneath it all, as solid as a rock. If his ranch were anywhere near the place they were going to, what good times the four of them could have that winter!

And how near she had come to losing it all;—to giving up and going back East in that first summer of discouragement! In a flash of memory she saw again Chris Garnett's steady eyes as he had looked down at her that day on the train, heard the conviction in his voice as he told her: "You'll stay!"

Was it his standing by them in all their difficulties that had helped his prophetic words come true?

Suddenly, with a strange surprise she felt her cheeks burn and she bent low over her work.

"How soon are we going, Bobby?" she asked abruptly.

"As soon as we can get ready. I suppose there's a week's work to do up here first. Fortunately, Robinson says he'll take the pigs, butcher and cure the meat and make the lard for one third. But we'll have to dig vegetables, haul wood——"

Harry merely smiled, but her turn came in the morning, when Rob found that during his absence she had done virtually everything to get the ranch ready for winter. "Great work, sis," he acknowledged, with a broad smile. "Thanks to you we can get off to-morrow. That kind of help is worth money."

"Good! I'll take my pay in cattle," she answered gleefully.

"Let me choose 'em back for you out of the herd before old skinflint's starved 'em to death," Garnett suggested, whereat Rob exploded into noisy laughter.

Never had Harry seen Rob in such a mood. All through the day she heard him and Garnett talking as they worked and every now and then breaking into peals of laughter.

Harry would not let herself dwell on the loss of her herd. It hurt her to see them file out through the gate for the last time, to realize that she must begin all over again, this time in the slow, plodding way, to gather a bunch of stock. But, after all, she had had a valuable experience and she had saved her land.

She and Rob took turns driving the loaded wagon; for to her the best of the trip was being in the saddle, helping to move the cattle. When Harry was driving Isita rode Hike. So happy was the young girl in her shy way, so naturally did she fit in with the plans and duties and pleasures of the family, that Harry was deeply thankful for the chance that had given this friend to her.

Cattle travel slowly, and it was late on the third day when they got down to the South Side. As they left behind the wild splendor of the Snake River gorge and came into the level richness of the irrigation country beyond, Harry grew silent. She was noticing everything: the magnificent ranches one after another, the haystacks as big as churches, the silos and the orchards, the grain elevators and the handsome houses. They all meant wealth. Yet at the same time she was missing their own mountains, their groves and streams, the wild and solitary beauty that at first had seemed so harsh and unfriendly, but which, by insensible degrees, while the rough homestead had grown into the cherished Homestead Ranch she had learned to love and to think of as "home."

"You ain't likin' it real well, are you?" Garnett said suddenly as he rode beside her.

"That isn't what I was thinking," she answered slowly. "When I looked at this I wondered how I had ever imagined that we could make a herd pay up in the hills."

"But that's exactly the place to make 'em pay. Didn't Ludlum prove it when he tried to sneak your homestead away from you? That's the grandest grazing country in Idaho. But no one ought to winter there. You've got to come down here and feed your stock in this hay country. That's the combination that makes these stockmen so disgustingly rich. Sure."

Harry laughed a little. "It wasn't so much the money," she said slowly. "I wanted to do something worth while, something that counted. Oh, you know: raise the finest beef; have everybody want my calves. I couldn't bear the idea of farm drudgery and housework with nothing to look forward to. Instead of that I made an awful mess of it, and no end of trouble for Rob. And, after all, I've had to come round to his way in the end."

"Well, now, not just exactly that," Garnett objected, as he watched the slow-moving line of cattle and tried to gauge the distance to the gate of the ranch ahead of them. "It takes years to build up beef into what you've planned, but you took a start, and there's a heap to that. Your mistakes weren't wasted, either. They kept Rob movin' up front, thinkin' quick, like he'd swallered pepper. Would he go back to raisin' one calf on a bottle? Honest, now? And besides that look here. Didn't you start me sittin' up and takin' notice of how I was lettin' the grass grow under other fellows' feet for them to make hay of while I was wastin' my time makin' it safe for them up in the reserve? Sure, you did. But I'll tell you the rest and some more, too, after we get these critters inside here. Hold 'em back, now, while I open the gate."

"So this is the place," Harry said, when at last the cattle were inside the pasture, the team put up, and the four of them, Rob, Garnett, Isita and herself, were looking at everything. "I suppose the owner is no more a skinflint, as you pretended, than that house is the tumble-down cabin you tried to scare me with."

She pointed to the roomy, well-built white cottage set in a little lawn and fenced away from the farm by a neat paling.

"Now that I've seen the place I'd certainly like to see the owner," she announced to Rob as they walked on towards the house. "I suppose he's here, isn't he, waiting to take over my herd?"

"Here he is," announced Rob, trying hard to keep a serious face as he took Garnett by the arm and led him forward. "Meet Miss Holliday, Mr. Garnett. Shake hands with the gentleman, Miss Holliday."

"Garnett!" Harry cried in astonishment. "You!"

"That's right, give it to him proper, Sis," Rob called back as he went off to look after the horses.

Harry did not even hear him. With her brain in a whirl that was all that she could find to say, but as she put her warm hand into his big clasp her sparkling face told him better than words that the surprise it gave her was not greater than the happiness.

"How ever did it happen, though?" she asked presently. "I thought you had sold all your hay."

"I didn't sell any. Pablo, the renter I had here, sold my share; leastwise gave Biane an option on it. Of course when Biane skipped, the hay come back on my hands. I didn't know that when I left you up yonder and come a-huntin' Rob. But I got a loan from the bank on my place here, enough to pay up Ludlum and get us some hay back from Paplo for a start."

"But how are we going to pay you?" Harry interrupted. "A hundred tons of hay at——"

"Say, now," begged Garnett, "don't you go to figgerin'! When Biane skipped the country, didn't that turn my hundred tons back on me? Well, I guess. And what was I goin' to do with it when I hadn't a critter of my own to feed, chiefly when I knew you folks was wearin' out the roads huntin' hay?—And what's easier and doin' better for us all than for Rob and me to feed together here on my ranch; and you, mebbe, to cook for us once in a while,—and me to take my wages in calves next spring,—or any old time like that; in case you took a notion to feed here next winter,—and me to put mine in with yours, and all of us graze together up to your homestead,—ranch that is, I mean, in summer and—next winter,—next winter,—Aw! What's the use of all this talkin'? It's all right, ain't it?"

Red to his ears, the forest ranger clutched his hat with a hard hand and stared down at the girl beside him, something unsaid held back in a sudden spasm of shyness.

Before Harry could answer the front door opened behind them and Isita, who had been exploring by herself looked out.

"Now that we're home, Miss Harry," she said, "couldn't I set the table for supper? There's a beautiful set of china dishes in the cupboard."

Harry turned to Garnett, the familiar roguish gleam in her face. "If I am going to live here, Mr. Skinflint Garnett," she began lightly, "I'll expect to use those dishes—" her voice trailed off, the bright, brave scarlet swept into her face, then as swiftly fled. Garnett said not a word. His eyes were on hers and in them was a look, a light. She had seen it there before but now she understood what it meant. She tried to take a steady breath, she hunted words,—"those dishes. Shall I start breaking them in now?"

Brave as the words were how her voice shook!

"Say, Harry—" How queer and deep and soft Garnett's voice was. He had thrown down his hat and stood there, shaking yet determined, his fists clenched at his sides. "Harry?... You reckon you could——"

"What, Chris?" The plunge of her heart was like the gallop of a frightened colt.

"—You reckon you could take me with 'em, with them dishes, break me in with 'em for yours?... Little girl?"

Her lips moved but no sound came from them. Yet he read her answer in her eyes and it must have satisfied him because he bent his head to hers and for an instant he held her. Then he took her hand. "Come along. Let's take a look at the winter half of this Homestead Ranch of ours."

THE END