Jim led the mustang out of the corral and Lem followed. It looked as if
they wanted to avoid the young man, but he prevented that.

"Howdy, boys! I'm Jack Belllounds," he said, rather loftily. But his
manner was nonchalant. He did not offer to shake hands.

Jim mumbled something, and Lem said, "Hod do."

"That's an ornery--looking bronc," went on Belllounds, and he reached
with careless hand for the mustang. Whang jerked so hard that he pulled
Jim half over.

"Wal, he ain't a bronc, but I reckon he's all the rest." drawled Jim.

Both cowboys seemed slow, careless. They were neither indifferent nor
responsive. Columbine saw their keen, steady glances go over Belllounds.
Then she took a second and less hasty look at him. He wore high-heeled,
fancy-topped boots, tight-fitting trousers of dark material, a heavy
belt with silver buckle, and a white, soft shirt, with wide collar, open
at the neck. He was bareheaded.

"I'm going to run White Slides," he said to the cowboys. "What're your
names?"

Columbine wanted to giggle, which impulse she smothered. The idea of any
one asking Jim his name! She had never been able to find out.

"My handle is Lemuel Archibawld Billings," replied Lem, blandly. The
middle name was an addition no one had ever heard.