they ain't got enough in 'em to fight when they're bein' broke, they
ain't generally worth breakin'."

"The man that rides that bay will sure be a-horseback," said Curly.

"He's a man's horse, all right," agreed Bob.

Breakfast over, the men left the house, not too quietly, and laughing,
jesting and romping like school boys, went out to the corrals, with
Little Billy tagging eagerly at their heels. The Dean and Phil remained
for a few minutes at the table.

"You really oughtn't to say such things to those boys, Will," reproved
Mrs. Baldwin, as she watched them from the window. "It encourages them
to be wild, and land knows they don't need any encouragement."

"Shucks," returned the Dean, with that gentle note that was always in
his voice when he spoke to her. "If such talk as that can hurt 'em,
there ain't nothin' that could save 'em. You're always afraid somebody's
goin' to go bad. Look at me and Phil here," he added, as they in turn
pushed their chairs back from the table; "you've fussed enough over us
to spoil a dozen men, and ain't we been a credit to you all the time?"

At this they laughed together. But as Phil was leaving the house Mrs.
Baldwin stopped him at the door to say earnestly, "You will be careful
to-day, won't you, son? You know my other Phil--" She stopped and turned
away.

The young man knew that story--a story common to that land where the
lives of men are not infrequently offered a sacrifice to the untamed