the open country, followed by Curly and Bob, with Little Billy spurring
old Sheep, in hot pursuit.

For a little the Dean lingered in the suddenly emptied corral. Stepping
up on the end of the long watering trough, close to the dividing fence,
he studied with knowing eye the animals on the other side. Then
leisurely he made his way out of the corral, visited the windmill pump,
looked in on Stella from the kitchen porch, and then saddled Browny, his
own particular horse that grazed always about the place at privileged
ease, and rode off somewhere on some business of his own.

When the black horse had spent his strength in a vain attempt to rid
himself of the dreadful burden that had attached itself so securely to
his back, he was herded back to the corral, where the burden set him
free. Dripping with sweat, trembling in every limb and muscle,
wild-eyed, with distended nostrils and heaving flanks, the black crowded
in among his mates again, his first lesson over--his years of ease and
freedom past forever.

"And which will it be this time?" came Curly's question.

"I'll have that buckskin this trip," answered Phil.

And again that swirling cloud of dust raised by those thundering hoofs
drifted over the stockade enclosure, and out of the mad confusion the
buckskin dashed wildly through the gate to be initiated into his new
life.

And so, hour after hour, the work went on, as horse after horse at
Phil's word was cut out of the band and ridden; and every horse,