Cattle-Ranch to College

e with shingled roof-the first real house th

utterly different. The latter were as a rule Eastern boys, and were versed in civilized amusements: baseball, marbles, tops, and all the games of skill and strength dear to the town dwellers. Of all these our boys knew nothing; their amusements were akin

custom in that day and place, but for a long time the camp boys gave them no provocation. As time went on, however, t

ch of his life," said John, wrathfully, one day

said Ben. "

boys and some of the men who guaranteed fair play. The contest that followed was short, sharp, and decisive. John kept his head and made every

or a time the others ceased to taunt the Worth boys. But the feeling was far from being as friendly as it ought to have be

T FOR HIMSELF A NE

ANCH HOUSE.

e who could give and take hard knocks. His approval was never outspoken, however; on the contrary he made John's bruises the subject

some questioning the authorities decided he was capable of accomplishing it. Here was something he could do that would te

. Deep snows on the range nearly cut off communication with the outer world for three months in the year. By following the high, wind-swept ridge, the mountain could be crossed by a venturesome horseman ti

"Well, kid, if you think you can do it, go ahead and try. But it means work and p'raps danger." John told of his snowshoeing experie

before the snows should cover up everything. He found at the top of the pass an old, abandoned cabin and marked its

, as John was mounting Baldy-for the trips had already b

, but patted his steed as if t

other horse," he said, rather anxiously, for he was afraid that his companion would be denied him. "Besides," he

yours, and the job's yours. Go ahead a

ls of the mountain pass together, fri

he could go the whole distance on horseback. His route was changed almost every day, for the wind formed drifts in different places and blocked the old way ten feet deep over night. In certain places cuts in the ridge would become filled with snow, and through this horse and rider had to fl

l so far," said Burns one day, as John dis

ow horse going though. Been snowshoeing it two weeks ago if it wasn't for Baldy." He stopped to stroke the animal's nose affectio

an a help. "Those black clouds mean that we're in for a big storm," he said, "and I tell you that you and your horse had better stay here. I can't boss you, kid, but I advise you not

dy was not so round as formerly, nor his step so springy, but he carried

e boy urged him forward, however, saying aloud-for he always felt as if Baldy could understand everything he told him-"No, old man, if we go back now you'll have to winter in the Ragged Edge gulch and you'll die sure. We can make it all right." The good beast seemed to acquiesce in his master's judgment, for he went along without further hesitatio

s covered with gunny sacks to prevent their sharp edges from cutting through the crust; but his sides began to heave and his legs to shake under him, for the exertion of breaking through the drifts from one wind-swept ridge to another was most exhau

ow, his head down, quick, spasmodic puffs coming from his nostrils, his body steaming, and his flanks all in a tremble. There was only one chance for the lives of both. John remembered the abandoned hut at the top of the pass-if they could possibly reach that, they might be able to weather the storm together. He determ

raised such a veil of mist and frost that he could not see ten yards ahead of him. On the high, bare ridges the blast nearly took him off his feet and in the hollows the snow banks engulfed him. Still he struggled on, straining his eyes forward into the gray chaos that confronted

his stout heart began to despair; he was weary, his body bathed in sweat, yet his face, feet, and hands numb with cold; the elements seemed to conspire against him. He was only a boy, and it seemed hard

and he caught a glimpse through the driving flakes of a dead tree and near it a peculiarly shaped, great gray

sible where he stood-it was far too steep and rocky. A detour made with infinite pains and e

he never knew. Only his indomitable pluck and his training pulled him through. But at last

ket over the horse's shivering flanks and wondering if they were safe, even now. At best it was a poor shelter; the wind blew the sharp, powde

kindling. Soon a fire was blazing, and boy and beast absorbed the heat gratefully. Only those who have suffered great and deadly cold can realize the delight of

p up the chinks with snow and to scrape banks of it up against the walls. The heat from within

ttle cabin was by comparison comfortable. There was little sleep for the boy that night, however. The fury of the storm did not ab

enishment, and Baldy, unaccustomed to confinement in such a small space, was so restless that continual watchfulness was necessary to keep from under h

p against the rude door, he made his way to a creek half a mile down the mountain and cut with his knife an armful of poplar saplings and carried them back to the hut. Baldy tore off t

n had ever travelled, he thought. Great drifts barred his way, the wind, still strong, blew in his face and

at last he reached his father's house he was hardly able to

omparison that it appeared to be resting on his back, like the howdah on an elephant. For several days Baldy was kept in the cabin and fed on hay, which had to be carried to him on foot

wshoes, bearing the precious packet. He had to repeat his story many times, and Burns had the

nd the railroad every three or four days: at first on foot,

oys who belonged to the other faction, and Ben was the object of their unceasing abuse. A crowd of t

those West

PITCHES, KIC

know the difference between a

ame or any other game played simply for amusement; thei

t put on an air of superiority that had the effect desired. Casey, though not a big fellow, was out of his 'teens, and had the reputation of being a "scrapper from 'way back," as the boys said. He also heard the young mischief-maker's statement. "Jab him, Casey; he's only a bluffer," said several of his companions. He could not ignore the challenge which was plainly indicated, and, ac

ht in earnest with one old enough to wear a mustache,

arge stable and a crowd of

ound his waist. "Don't let him hug you and you'll lick him, sure." Ben spoke confidently, but he was in reali

ace, but neither had yet struck a blow.

out. The crowd yelled "Foul," but neither took any notice. The blow was not a hard

knew more about boxing than he did, Casey thought, and as the method of fighting was left undecided he determined to change his tactics. In a rough-and-tumble fight he knew his age and strength would tell. To close in and grapple with John was his purpose now. So far the battle was in the boy's favor, and a number of the wavering ones came over to his side. "He's getting low now, Worth. Swing on him," said o

n!" mutt

crowd, who had suddenly

e man's terrible grip was loosened. He did not let go, however, and in a couple of seconds both were on their feet and struggling with might and main to gain the mastery. Again they went down, this time

ure. It was gall and bitterness to the boy, and he was glad to get away out of earshot. Ben helped him put on his clothes and led him down to the creek to b

it," John

you!" Ben

abbed my thumb in his mouth. He would

man could do such "dirty work" as Ben sa

marks of Casey's teeth

ion of all his hardships; he felt as if his life had been all work and no play, that his efforts to do his duty had not been appreciated, that though other boys might enjoy themselves much of the time (and he had seen them in this very c

known there, and Mr. Worth, thinking that John had become more or less a

boys came slowly in, "you met your match t

o hide the tears that would ru

, he did give it to you: eyes blacked, face scratched, mouth swollen

his heel and

eting his brother out

peated in wonder. "W

w my face in camp again; even father at home laug