The Land of Frozen Suns

ol year--September, isn't it? But that's nearly three months away. I would like to see that Red River ranch. I was born there, you know."

"You'll have to cut your eye-teeth in the business sometime," he mused. "You'll be less likely to get into mischief there than you will in town. Yes, I daresay you might as well take the trip. But no funking school this fall, mind. I've known youngsters to go to the cattle country and stick there. Your father did."

"I won't," I promised, "even if I want to stay, I'll be ready to dig in when September comes."

"You'd better." He laughed at my earnestness. "Or I'll be down there after you. When do you propose to start?"

"As soon as I can." Having paved the way to go, I wanted, boy-fashion, to be on the way at once.

"Any idea how to get there?" he queried; as if he had his doubts about the development of my bump of location.

But I had him there.

"Oh, yes. Dad used to take the train through Little Rock to Fort Worth, and on up int