men who held the fighting horse.

He said: "Put a saddle on him, boys, and I'll try my hand."

They could not answer at once, for Werther's "pet," as if he recognized
the newcomer, made a sudden lunge and was brought to a stop only after
he had dragged his sweating handlers around and around in a small
circle. Here Werther himself came running up, puffing with surprise.

"Son," he said eagerly, "I'm not aiming to do you no harm. I was only
calling the bluff of those four-flushers."

The slender youth finished rolling up his left sleeve and smiled down at
the other.

"Put on the saddle," he said.

Werther looked at him anxiously; then his eyes brightened with a
solution. He stepped closer and laid a hand on the other's arm.

"Son, if you're broke and want to get the price of a few squares just
say the word and I'll fix you. I been busted myself in my own day, but
don't try your hand with my hoss. He ain't just a buckin' hoss; he's a
man-killer, lad. I'm tellin' you straight. And this floor ain't so soft
as the sawdust makes it look," he ended with a grin.

The younger man considered the animal seriously.

"I'm not broke; I've simply taken a fancy to your horse. If you don't
mind, I'd like to try him out. Seems too bad, in a way, for a brute like