“Well, I was just bluffing when I said I’d run away—­if she told you that.”  He stopped; the look was still there, only it now seemed to have contempt added to it.  “I don’t say I know more’n anybody on the ranch, and I don’t say I’m boss of the ranch yet.  I do what they tell me, even when I know there ain’t any sense in it.  I humor Doctor Dell a whole lot!” Could he never get that look off Luck’s face?  The Kid searched his soul anxiously.  You couldn’t go on arguing with that kind of a look; it made you feel like you’d been stealing sheep.  “Oh, well, if you won’t talk to a feller—­” The Kid did not turn away quite soon enough to hide the quiver of his lips.  Luck reached out and took a small, grimy hand and pulled the Kid nearer; near enough so that his arm could go around the Kid’s quivering body.  He held him close, and the Kid did not struggle.  He dropped his face against Luck’s shoulder, and began to fight back his tears.

“Listen, pardner,” said Luck softly, one hand caressing the Kid’s cheek.  “You and I ought to sabe each other better than most folks, because we’re pals.  Now, I want you to go with me a heap more than you want to go; just tuck that away in your mind where you won’t lose it.  I want you, but I wouldn’t have you without Doctor Dell’s free and willing consent.  I need you for my pal; and I could teach you a lot that would be useful to you.  But they need you a whole lot worse than I do.  They’ve been taking care of you and loving you and planning for you all these eight years, just watching you grow, and being proud of you because you’re what they want you to be:  husky and healthy and good all the way through.  You couldn’t go off and leave them now; it wouldn’t be right.  And, pard, you need them even worse than they need you.  I know,—­because I had to grow up without any one to love me and look after me; and believe me, old pal, it isn’t any cinch.  It’s just pure luck that I didn’t get killed off or go bad.  Now, I’d be good to you, if I had you with me, and so would the boys; but we couldn’t take the place of Doctor Dell and Daddy Chip.

“I’ve talked pictures too much to you.  I didn’t know how it was hitting you, or how much you wanted to go.  But listen.  If I had the chance you’ve got here,—­if I had a ranch like this, and cattle, and horses, and a father and mother and uncle like you’ve got,—­I never would look a camera in the eye again as long as I live.  That’s straight, old-timer.  Why, I’m working my head off trying to get enough ahead so that I can have a ranch of my own!  So I can slap a saddle on a horse that carries my brand, and ride out after my cattle, and haze them into my corral; so I can have a home that is mine.  I never did have one, pardner,—­not since I was a heap smaller than you are now,—­and a home of his own is what every man wants most, down deep in his heart.