other side of the fighting animal, he could with safety fix the leather
blindfold over those wicked eyes.

When at last hackamore and saddle were in place, and the bay stood
trembling and sweating, Phil wiped the perspiration from his own
forehead and turned to the stranger.

"Your horse is ready, sir."

The man's face was perhaps a shade whiter than its usual color, but his
eyes were glowing, and there was a grim set look about his smiling lips
that made the hearts of those men go out to him. He seemed to realize so
that the joke was on himself, and with it all exhibited such reckless
indifference to consequences. Without an instant's hesitation he started
toward the horse.

"Great Snakes!" muttered Curly to Bob, "talk about nerve!"

The Dean started forward. "Wait a minute, Mr. Patches," he said.

The stranger faced him.

"Can you ride that horse?" asked the Dean, pointedly.

"I'm going to," returned Patches. "But," he added with his droll humor,
"I can't say how far."

"Don't you know that he'll kill you if he can?" questioned the Dean
curiously, while his eyes twinkled approval.