The wounded man was Southern by birth and instinct, and knew that the hospitality of ranch and road and camp was one and the same.  “Very well,” said he, “but in this instance, remember it’s my calf that’s gored.  Serves me right, though, kittening up to every stranger that comes along.  I must be getting tired of you slatterly cow hands.”  He hesitated a moment.  “The one thing I like,” he continued, “about this nester layout is those red-headed boys.  And these two are just about petting age.  I can almost see them eating sugar out of my hand.”

After dinner, and now that a haven was secured, the question of medical aid was considered.  The couriers down the Beaver had returned and reported no habitation in that direction.  Fortunately the destination of the stranger was a settlement on the Republican River, and he volunteered to ride through that afternoon and night and secure a surgeon.  Frontier physicians were used to hundred-mile calls.  The owner of the herd, had he been present, would have insisted on medical attention, the wounded man reluctantly consented, and the stranger, carrying a hastily written letter to Mr. Lovell, took his departure.

Early evening found the patient installed, not in the dug-out, but in a roomy tent.  A quarter of beef hung on a willow, the one-room shack was bountifully provisioned, while the foreman remained to await the arrival of a physician.  The day had brought forth wonders to Joel and Dell—­from the dark hour of want to the dawn of plenty, while the future was a sealed book.  In addition to the promised horses, Forrest’s saddle hung in the sod stable, while two extra ponies aroused the wonder of the questioning boys.

“I just brought these two along,” explained the foreman, “as their backs were galled during a recent rainy spell.  You can see they are unfit for saddle, but with a little attention can be cured—­I’ll show you how.  You have an abundance of water, and after I leave, wash their backs, morning and evening, and they’ll be well in a month.  Since you are running a trail hospital, you want to cater to man and beast.  Of course, if you boys nurse this man through to health and strength, I’ll make an appeal to Mr. Lovell to give you these ponies.  They’ll come in handy, in case you return to the Solomon, or start a little cattle ranch here.”

The sun set in benediction on the little homestead.  The transformation seemed magical.  Even the blight of summer drouth was toned and tempered by the shadows of evening.  The lesson of the day had filled empty hearts with happiness, and when darkness fell, the boys threw off all former reserve, and the bond of host and guest was firmly established.  Forrest, even, cemented the tie, by dividing any needful attention between the boys.

“Do you know,” said he to the foreman indifferently, in the presence of the lads, “that I was thinking of calling the oldest one Doc and the youngest one Nurse, but now I’m going to call them just plain Joel and Dell, and they can call me Mr. Quince.  Honor bright, I never met a boy who can pour water on a wound, that seems to go to the right spot, like Dell Wells.  One day with another, give me a red-headed boy.”