The last of many subjects discussed was the existing contract, of which the commission firm was the intermediary factor.  The details were gone over carefully, the outlook for next year’s shipments reviewed, and on taking their leave, the old man said to his guests:—­

“Well, I’m pleased over the outlook.  The firm have had letters from both Mr. Lovell and Mr. Stoddard, and now that I’ve gone over the situation, with the boys in the saddle, everything is clear and satisfactory.  Next year’s shipments will take care of the contract.  Keep in touch with us, and we’ll advise you from time to time.  Ship your cattle in finished condition, and they’ll make a market for themselves.  We’ll expect you early next summer.”

“Our first shipment will be two hundred double-wintered cattle,” modestly admitted Joel.

“They ought to be ready a full month in advance of your single-wintered beeves,” said the old man, from his practical knowledge in maturing beef.  “Ship them early.  The bookkeeper has your account all ready.”

Joel and Manly were detained at the business office only a moment.  The beeves had netted thirty-five dollars a head, and except for current expenses, the funds were left on deposit with the commission house, as there were no banks near home; the account was subject to draft, and accepting a small advance in currency, the boys departed.  A brief hour’s shopping was indulged in, the principal purchases being two long-range rifles, cartridges and poison in abundance, when they hastened to the depot and caught a west-bound train.  Horses had been left at Grinnell, and at evening the next day the two rode into headquarters on the Beaver.

Beyond question there are tides in the affairs of men.  With the first shipment of cattle from the little ranch, poverty fled and an air of independence indicated the turn in the swing of the pendulum.  Practical men, in every avenue of the occupation, had lent their indorsement to the venture of the brothers, the mettle of the pasture had been tested in the markets, and the future, with reasonable vigilance, rested on sure foundations.

The turn of the tide was noticeable at once.  “I really think Uncle Dud would let me come home,” said Manly to the others, at supper.  “There’s no occasion for my staying here this winter.  Besides, I’m a tender plant; I’m as afraid of cold as a darky is of thunder.  Wouldn’t I like to get a letter from Uncle Dud saying, ’Come home, my little white chicken, come home!’”

“You can go in the spring,” said Joel.  “We’re going to use four line-riders this winter, and there’s every reason why you’ll make a trusty one!”

“That’s one of the owners talking,” observed Sargent; “now listen to the foreman’s orders:  The next thing is to brand every hoof up to date.  Then, at the upper line-camp, comes the building of a new dug-out and stabling for four horses.  And lastly, freight in plenty of corn.  After that, if we fail to hold the cattle, it’s our own fault.  No excuse will pass muster.  Hold these cattle?  It’s a dead immortal cinch!  Joseph dear, make yourself a useful guest for the winter.”