his manner portrayed--perhaps even more. He had offered help where
help was needed, and that ended it for him. It never occurred to him
that Blink might feel jealous over Andy's hard-earned reputation as a
"tamer of wild ones," or mistake his good nature for patronage.

Five minutes later, when Chip looked around comprehensively at the lot
of them in various degrees of readiness; saw that Blink was still
fighting silently for mastery of the sorrel and told Andy to go over
and help him get saddled, Andy said nothing of having had his services
refused, but went. This time, Blink also said nothing, but accepted in
ungracious surrender the assistance thus thrust upon him. For on the
range-land, unless one is in a mind to roll his bed and ride away, one
does not question when the leader commands. Andy's attitude was still
that of indifference; he really thought very little about Blink or his
opinions, and the rapid blinking of the pale lashes was quite lost
upon him.

They rode, eighteen ill-natured, uncomfortable cowboys, tumultuously
away from the camp, where canvas bulged and swayed, and loose corners
cracked like pistol shots, over the hill where even the short, prairie
grass crouched and flattened itself against the sod; where stray
pebbles, loosened by the ungentle tread of pitching hoofs, skidded
twice as far as in calm weather. The gray sky bent threateningly above
them, wind-torn into flying scud but never showing a hint of blue.
Later there might be rain, sleet, snow--or sunshine, as nature might
whimsically direct; but for the present she seemed content with only
the chill wind that blew the very heart out of a man.

Whenever Chip pulled up to turn off a couple of riders that they might
search a bit of rough country, his voice was sharp with the general