CHAPTER IV.
Through King's Highway.
It was a long time before I was in a position to gratify my curiosity, though; between the son and heir, with nothing to do but amuse himself, and a cowboy working for his daily wage, there is a great gulf fixed.
After being put on the pay-roll, I couldn't do just as my fancy prompted.
I had to get up at an ungodly hour, and eat breakfast in about two minutes, and saddle a horse and "ride circle" with the rest of them--which same is exceeding wearisome to man and beast.

For the first time since I left school, I was under orders; and the foreman certainly tried to obey dad's mandate and treat me just as he would have treated any other stranger.

I could give it up, of course--but I hope never to see the day when I can be justly called a quitter.
First, we were rounding up horses--saddlers that were to be ridden in the round-up proper.

We were not more than two or three weeks at that, though we covered a good deal of country.

Before it was over I knew a lot more than when we started out, and had got hard as nails; riding on round-up beats a gym for putting wire muscles under a man's skin, in my opinion.
We worked all around White Divide--which was turning a pale, dainty green except where the sandstone cliffs stood up in all the shades of yellow and red.