And in answer, as though he had understood perfectly, the dog started off in the direction of the ranch.

“I reckon you’ll be safe with him,” commented the agent.  “Take care of yourself, Bob.  And come over to see me when you can.  By the way, has John said where he was going to send you?”

“Yes, over near Red Top, with his short-horns.”

“You’ve certainly made a hit with him, Bob.  That’s the best and easiest berth on the ranch.  Grazing’s good and water plenty.  You hardly have to move from one week to another.  So long.”  And he gave the boy’s hand a hearty grip.  “I’ve wired your father of your safe arrival.  When there are any letters, I’ll bring them over.”

And shaking out his reins, the agent galloped away.

Bob, however, did not hurry on his return to the ranch, his mind being occupied with trying to find the reason for the grizzled plainsman’s evident liking for him and his kindness, so at variance with his usual manner.

But the puzzle was too difficult for him, and he finally abandoned it to dismount and practice the things the agent had taught him.

Such action at first mystified Firefly, but Bob patted and spoke to him, explaining what he was trying to do just as though he were talking to a human being.

“You and Chester and I will have many a long day and night together, so we had better be good friends right away.  I’ve got to learn to hobble and saddle and I want to do it before I return to the ranch.”

Evidently satisfied with this explanation, Firefly stood quietly, nibbling at the grass now and again, while the dog sat down and watched operations.

Having finally acquired the knack, Bob remounted and was soon at the ranch, where he turned his pony into the corral and carried his saddle to the cabin.

“Then you’ve learned enough to turn your pony into the corral, eh?” was Ford’s greeting as Bob threw his saddle on the floor.

“Yes, sir.  And to hobble and saddle and make my horse whirl when I’m mounting.”

“Hal’s a good friend to have,” commented the ranchman.  “Did he show you how to throw a rope?”

“Do you mean my lariat?”

“No, I mean rope; that’s what we call it on the plains, though it means the same thing.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“Then I will.  You’ll find some grub in the cupboard.  Eat all you want and put the rest back.”

“But aren’t you going to eat with me?” asked Bob in an injured tone.

“I’d like to.  But I ain’t eaten with a man since——­” then suddenly checking himself he stammered, “well, since twelve year ago.”

Eager, indeed, was Bob to ask the reason for this custom, but, remembering Hal’s warning, he restrained the question that was on his lips just as the ranchman, evidently determined to end the conversation, went outdoors.

The mention of eating recalled to Bob that it was hours since he had breakfasted, and hastily he explored the cupboard, bringing forth some crisp bacon, biscuits, cookies and pie while from the stove he took the coffee pot, then sat down to a meal that seemed, to his keen appetite, the best he had ever tasted.