When the day's work was finished and supper was over Little Billy found
Patches where he stood looking across the valley toward Granite Mountain
that loomed so boldly against the soft light of the evening sky. The man
greeted the boy awkwardly, as though unaccustomed to children. But
Little Billy, very much at ease, signified his readiness to help the
stranger to an intimate acquaintance with the world of which he knew so
much more than this big man.

He began with no waste of time on mere preliminaries.

"See that mountain over there? That's Granite Mountain. There's wild
horses live around there, an' sometimes we catch 'em. Bet you don't know
that Phil's name is 'Wild Horse Phil'."

Patches smiled. "That's a good name for him, isn't it?"

"You bet." He turned and pointed eagerly to the west. "There's another
mountain over there I bet you don't know the name of."

"Which one do you mean? I see several."

"That long, black lookin' one. Do you know about it?"

"I'm really afraid that I don't."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Billy, proud of his superior knowledge.
"That there's Tailholt Mountain."

"Indeed!"