The Story of Wool Part 23

"If you are tired you should try the ranges of Idaho," Mr. Clark said.

"My boy, here, and myself have recently returned from a year in the sheep country and feel like new men, don't we, Don? Undoubtedly the life there may not be as gay as in the city; still--to quote my manager, Sandy McCulloch, 'with bears, bob-cats, and coyotes, I dinna see how it could ever be dull.'"

So perfectly had Mr. Clark imitated Sandy's voice and accent that Thornton and Donald both laughed. Then they stopped suddenly.

The young bookkeeper had turned very pale and was eying them with a startled face.

"Sandy McCulloch!" he repeated. "Did you say Sandy McCulloch, sir?"

"Yes, Sandy McCulloch," answered Mr. Clark. "Do you know him?"

"He must be of your kin, Mac!" interrupted Mr. Munger. "This lad, strangely enough, is a McCulloch himself--Douglas McCulloch."

"Then you must be--you are Sandy's brother!" cried Donald.

The young man swayed a little and put out his hand to steady himself.

It seemed to Donald as if he would never speak.

When he did his voice was tremulous with emotion.

"Yes," he replied almost in a whisper. "I am Sandy's brother. Tell me of Sandy and of my father."

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER XIII

DONALD DECIDES

It was a wonderful story, Donald thought.

He was never tired of living over how, in visiting the Mortonstown mills, they had so unexpectedly found Douglas McCulloch; how, because of ill health, he was on the point of going West; and how, with Mr.

Munger's permission, Mr. Clark had offered him the position as Sandy's a.s.sistant at Crescent Ranch. It was little short of a miracle that it had all come about!

It was interesting, too, to hear what had happened to Douglas after he left Idaho. When he first reached the East it was indeed a rude awakening from his dreams of city life; living was expensive, and work hard to find. Chance had borne him to the Monitor Mills where, because of his knowledge of wool, he had succeeded in getting a job at sorting fleeces. He had worked hard and patiently, and Mr. Bailey, who was quick to appreciate faithfulness, had promoted him until he had won the position of head bookkeeper. These years of vigorous work had, however, left their mark on one unaccustomed to long hours and little fresh air.

In his heart the boy sighed for the hills--he wanted to be back again in the Western country which he so foolishly had insisted upon leaving. He became tired and thin, and the men for whom he worked were unselfish enough to see that unless he got back to the open ranges and to the sunlight he would soon be too ill to go.

And now the chance had come--it was almost unbelievable!

"I cannot realize that I am really to join Sandy," exclaimed the Scotchman over and over. "It is almost too much good luck. As a lad I was so eager to get away from the range that I would never have dreamed the time could come when I would be pining to return there. I have had my taste of the East! I would have gone back long ago had they not been so good to me here."

"But why didn't you write to Sandy, Douglas?" inquired Donald.

"Well, you see, although my father let me leave Crescent Ranch it disappointed him not a little to have me do so. Sandy thought, since my father felt that way, that I ought not to go, and we had words about it.

I was very angry with Sandy at the time, but I see now that he was right. I wish I had stayed with my father. Then when I began to be homesick here and it all turned out just as Sandy had said I was ashamed to write. Even now I am almost afraid Sandy will not want to see me."

"Indeed he will!" cried Donald. "Why, often he talked about you when we were on the range together, and wished he might see you. My father has wired him already and he can hardly wait to get you back to Idaho."

"If only my father were there!" said Douglas sadly. "I shall never forgive myself that I came East and left him. I wish I had the chance to live over again and I would do differently."

"If we did not learn wisdom by what we do there would be no use in living, Douglas," Mr. Clark put in kindly. "At least you are going West to Sandy--going to be a great help to him in his work."

"I am so thankful that I can," replied the younger brother. "Think of going once more to Idaho and running that great ranch with him! It is more than I deserve."

"Make the most of your good fortune, Douglas," Mr. Clark said, "and do not disappoint Sandy and me."

"I will try, sir!" was the humble response.

Douglas McCulloch was as good as his word.

From the moment he and Sandy were united at Crescent Ranch he threw himself heart and soul into his new work. The charm of the hills stole over him with a fascination they had never held in those far-off days when he was a restless boy, eager for the excitement of city life.

Douglas had had his fling, and he returned to the vast Western land older and wiser.

Together he and Sandy set about improving the ranch. They subscribed to magazines on sheep-raising; they visited other ranches and kept abreast of the times; they installed newer and more hygienic methods of wool-growing. Never had Crescent Ranch been so perfectly run. With two intelligent and unwearying young men at its head it bid fair to outs.h.i.+ne the fame it had possessed in Old Angus's day. Gradually men interested in sheeping came from far and near to visit it. Clark & Sons began to be very proud to be the owners of such a treasure.

Thornton, in the meantime, had become Mr. Clark's right hand man at the Eastern office. From foreman he had worked up to being superintendent, and had then been promoted to traveling for the firm and selling wool.

His devotion to Mr. Clark and everything that concerned him was unfailing.

During these years Donald had completed his school work; had taken his four years at college; and loyal to his early ambition, had entered the Law School. If it was a disappointment to his father for him to choose the law instead of a business career Mr. Clark did not say so. He kept closely in touch with the boy's studies and was proud of the future before him.

It was just as everything seemed to be moving so ideally that the first great calamity fell upon Clark & Sons. One morning a telegram came from Sandy saying that a big fire had swept the ranch, leveling to the ground house, barns, and sheep-pens. The blaze had come about through no one's carelessness. Lightning had struck the central barn, and before aid could be summoned the entire place had been destroyed.

Fortunately no one had been injured. The herders, together with their flocks, were on the range; and the crops of alfalfa had not been cut and were therefore saved.

"It might have been much worse, Don," said Mr. Clark in reviewing the situation. "We have lost no men, no sheep, no hay, no wool. Suppose the fire had come in shearing time and had destroyed all the fleeces; or suppose the blaze had come about through carelessness and Sandy and Douglas had had themselves to blame for it. As it is, it is n.o.body's fault--I am glad of that--and nothing has been lost but can be restored.

The buildings are well covered by insurance and can be rebuilt during the summer. The chief trouble is that all this has happened at a time when I am very busy. I ought to go to Idaho, but I hardly see----"

"Can't I go, father?" interrupted Donald quickly. "I don't see why I couldn't adjust the insurance and help about having new buildings put up. Sandy and Douglas have good judgment, and before I started you could tell me just what you want done. Besides," he added shyly, "I am now through my first year at the Law School and have some little knowledge of legal affairs--that is, I know more than I used to."

Mr. Clark beamed.

"You could go in my place perfectly well, Don, if you are willing to give up your summer vacation to it. It would certainly be a great help.

But how about those house-parties you had planned for?"

"I can decline those, father. I'd be glad to go!" was Donald's reply. "I always promised Sandy I would come West again some time, and I should really enjoy another glimpse of the hills."

So it was arranged.

Within two days Donald was speeding West, and almost before he realized it he was back at Crescent Ranch.

Then came letters for Mr. Clark.

The insurance was adjusted and with the aid of the McCullochs, Donald was drawing up plans for new barns--barns with cement floors, and far better ventilated and equipped than the old ones had been. Almost every day brought to the Eastern office pages and pages of sketches for sheep-folds and modern contrivances for lessening the labor of wool-growing. Every line of these letters bubbled with enthusiasm. There could be no possible question that Donald's heart was in every word he wrote.

Summer pa.s.sed and the time for the beginning of the college term drew near.