"Eighty-seven--and that's aplenty," he announced. "Dad, cattle were selling at thirty dollars on the hoof last spring. They'll fetch more now. What'll you do with all that money?" "Lord--son," panted Logan, wiping his grimy face, "after I square myself with your mother and you all, not forgetting Barbara, I'll not have enough left to pay my debts... But, by thunder, once in our lives we'll ride high and handsome." "Whoopee!" yelled George and Grant in unison. Abe bent thoughtful eyes upon the glowing Barbara. "Luce, now supper and to bed," shouted Logan. "We'll be on our way before sun-up." The snail's-pace drive was not too slow for Logan. It could have been slower and yet have given him joy. Every windfall along the dusty road, every big pine and rock, swale and flat, in fact every landmark so well known to him that he could locate them in the dark, each and all seemed to greet him. "Wal, old timer, drivin' to the railroad at last!" Holbert, at Mormon Lake, was frankly glad to see Huett come along at last with cattle to sell.
