IT was not until the third year of their life together I upon the Crooked Creek ranch that the friendship and understanding between Patches and Larry ripened into its greatest perfection. Up to this time they had been the best of pals, doing the day's work together like good chums. The understanding between them even thus far had been remarked by the rest of the cow-punchers on the ranch, but with the beginning of the third year Patches evinced an understanding of his master and anticipated his wishes in a way that quite amazed the other cow-punchers.
The first indication of Patches' uncommon understanding came late in March, when Larry was taken ill, first with a hard cold and then with an attack of bronchitis. Larry and Patches had been doing most of the range riding that winter. For two or three weeks they had been searching for sick cows and calves. It was the season of the year when the strength of the herd was at its lowest ebb, and the stock had sometimes gone for days when the snow was deepest with very little food. The cows with new calves were often taken
