And in two shakes bridle and saddle were off, and Gray Leg was rolling in the corral.

While Lorry ate, Ramon laid a fire in the big stone fireplace.  Alter supper Lorry and his father sat gazing at the flames.  Lorry knew why he had been sent for, but waited for his father to speak.

Presently Waring turned to him.  “I sent for you because I need some one to help.  And your mother wants you here.  I won’t urge you, but I can offer you Pat’s share in the ranch.  I bought his share last week.  You’ll have a working interest besides that.  You know something about cattle.  Think it over.”

“That’s a dandy offer,” said Lorry.  “I’m right obliged, dad.  But there’s something else.  You put your proposition straight, and I’m going to put mine straight.  Now, if you was in my boots, and she liked you enough, would you marry her?”

“You haven’t told me who she is.”

“Why—­Dorothy Bronson.  I thought you knew.”

Waring smiled.  “You’re pretty young, Lorry.”

“But you married young, dad.”

“Yes.  And I married the best woman in the world.  But I can’t say that I made your mother happy.”

“I guess ma never cared for anybody but you,” said Lorry.

“It isn’t just the caring for a person, Lorry.”

“Well, I thought it was.  But I reckon you know.  And Dorothy is the prettiest and lovin’est kind of a girl you ever seen.  I was wishin’ you was acquainted.”

“I should like to meet her.  Are you sure she is your kind of girl, Lorry?  Now, wait a minute; I know how you feel.  A girl can be good-looking and mighty nice and think a lot of a man, and yet not be the right girl for him.”

“But how is he goin’ to find that out?”

“If he must find out—­by marrying her.”

“Then I aim to find out, if she is willin’.  But I wanted to tell you—­because you made me that offer.  I was askin’ your advice because you been through a lot.”

“I wish I could advise you.  But you’re a man grown, so far as taking care of yourself is concerned.  And when a man thinks of getting married he isn’t looking for advice against it.  Why don’t you wait a year or two?”

“Well, mebbe I got to.  Because—­well, I didn’t ask Dorothy yet.  Then there’s somethin’ else.  A lot of the fellas up in the high country have enlisted in the regulars, and some have gone over to Canada to join the Foreign Legion.  Now, I don’t want to be the last hombre on this mesa to go.”

“There has been no call for men by the Nation.”

“But it’s comin’, dad.  Any fella can see that.  I kind of hate to wait till Uncle Sam says I got to go.  I don’t like going that way.”

“What do you think your mother will say?”

“Gosh!  I know!  That’s why I wanted to talk to you first.  If I’m goin’, I want to know it so I can say to her that I am goin’ and not that I aim to go.”

“Well, you will have to decide that.”