The Boy from the Ranch | Page 5

like he had
before. I remember then I thought he sure was going to die. But Porter
said it was as much business as anything else. Now what sort of
business could dad have that he would need me in such a hurry?"
Roy did not see any prospect of his questions being answered, at least
until he got to the ranch, and could talk to his father, so he continued on,
urging his pony to a faster gait.
It soon began to get dark, but Roy did not mind this, as he had often
ridden all night when on a round-up. Of course, on such occasions he
had been in company with his father's cowboys. Still, the prospect of
his lonely journey through the darkness did not alarm him.
He knew the trail very well, from having been over it often, and,
though there were occasionally ugly Indians, or unemployed cowboys,
to be met with on the plains, Roy did not imagine he would have any
trouble with them. He was armed, but he hoped he would have no
occasion to draw his revolver.
There were no wild animals, except steers, to be met and these, he
knew, would be in herds under the care of competent men. Besides a
steer rarely attacks a man on a horse.
So Roy rode through the long night. About one o'clock he stopped,
built a little grease-wood fire, and warmed his bacon. Then he munched
that and the bread with a good appetite, drinking some coffee the cook
had given him in a flask.
"I ought to get to the ranch by sun-up," thought the boy, and he was not
mistaken, for, when the golden ball peeped up over the prairies Roy
saw the outbuildings of his father's big cattle farm. A little later he had
ridden up to the ranch house, and dismounted.
"My father! How is he?" he exclaimed, as he saw the cook on the

verandah.
"Better," was the reply, and the boy felt a sense of relief. "Much better.
Come right in and have some hot coffee. I've got it all ready for you."
"Not until I've seen my father," and Roy hurried into the ranch house.
"Is that you, Roy?" called a voice from a bedroom.
"Yes, father! How are you?"
"Considerable better. I hope you were not alarmed."
"Well, I was--some."
Roy saw that his father was in bed. The man looked quite pale, and on
a stand, near him, were several bottles of medicine.
"What is it, father?" asked Roy. "What happened?"
"Well, nothing much, though I was afraid it was at the time. I got one
of my bad spells of indigestion, and it affected my heart."
"Did you think you were going to die?"
"Well, I did, but the doctor only laughed at me. He said I was
needlessly alarmed, and I think, now, that I was. But when I was in
such pain, fearing something would happen, I thought of a business
matter that needed attending to. I decided I had better get my affairs in
shape--in case anything should happen, so I sent for you, to have a
talk."
"What sort of a talk, father?"
"A business talk. I'm going to have you undertake something in an
entirely new line. You're a pretty good cattleman now, and I want to
see how you'll make out on a business deal."
"What kind?"

"I'll soon explain. But tell me; how is Billy, and the boys?"
"Very well."
"Are they getting the cattle in good shape? Where did Porter find you?"
"The cattle will be here to-morrow, I think. Porter came up just as we
were camping out near the small dried creek in the big swale," replied
Roy, describing the place so that his father would know it. "But now
tell me about this business. I am glad you are better."
"Yes, I feel much improved. My indigestion is all gone, and I think I
can eat breakfast. I'll tell you then."
Roy could hardly wait for the meal to be finished. After his father had
had his repast in bed, Mr. Bradner told his son to close the door, and sit
down close beside him.
"I'm going to take you into my confidence," said the ranch owner. "It's
time you knew something of my business affairs, and I am going to
entrust you with a commission. A good deal depends on the success of
it."
"I hope I can do it, father."
"I am pretty sure you can, or I would not let you go. Now I'll tell you
what it is. You do not know it, but I have an interest in some property,
left by your mother's brother, your Uncle Henry Mayfield. This
property was left to your mother, and when she