He soon discovered that Bob did not
contemplate going into ranching, and at once admitted that young man to
his confidence.
"You just nail a seat in that surrey over there, while I chase out my
two 'prospects.' We sell on commission and I've got to rustle."
They drove out of the sleepy little village on which had been grafted
showy samples of the Company's progress. The day was beautiful with
sunshine, with the mellow calls of meadow larks, with warmth and sweet
odours. As the surrey took its zigzag way through the brush, as the
quail paced away to right and left, as the delicate aroma of the sage
rose to his nostrils, Bob began to be very glad he had come. Here and
there the brush had been cleared, small shacks built, fences of wire
strung, and the land ploughed over. At such places the surrey paused
while Selwyn held forth to his two stolid "prospects" on how long these
newcomers had been there and how well they were getting on. The country
rose in a gradual slope to the slate-blue mountains. Ditches ran here
and there. Everywhere were small square stakes painted white, indicating
the boundaries of tracts yet unsold.
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