"He does seem to have some such notion," admitted Patches.

"You better let him alone," said the Dean. "You don't need to kill
yourself to get a job with this outfit."

"That's very kind of you, sir," returned the stranger gratefully. "I'm
rather glad you said that. But I'm going to ride him just the same."

They looked at him in amazement, for it was clear to them now that the
man really could not ride.

The Dean spoke kindly. "Why?"

"Because," said Patches slowly, "I am curious to see what I will do
under such circumstances, and if I don't try the experiment now I'll
never know whether I have the nerve to do it or not." As he finished he
turned and walked deliberately toward the horse.

Phil ran to Curly's side, and the cowboy at his foreman's gesture leaped
from his saddle. The young man mounted his helper's horse, and with a
quick movement caught the riata from the saddle horn and flipped open a
ready loop.

The stranger was close to the bay's off, or right, side.

"The other side, Patches," called Phil genially. "You want to start in
right, you know."

Not a man laughed--except the stranger.