Springs, letting his horses feed up and get some meat on their bones.
Here! Robert E. Lee, drop that club or I'll put the dingbats on you
instanter! Don't you pound that pony! I saw you yesterday racing the
streets with the throat-latch of your bridle unbuckled. Serves you
right!"

Robert E. Lee reluctantly abandoned the sotol stalk he had been breaking
to a length suitable for admonitory purposes.

"All right! But I'll fix him yet--see if I don't! He's got to pack me
back up that hill after my hat. Gimme a knife, so's I can cut a saddle
string and mend this bridle." These remarks are expurgated.

He mended the bridle; he loosened the cinches and set the saddle back.
Stan, dismounting, made a discovery.

"I've lost a spur. Thought something felt funny. Noticed yesterday that
the strap was loose." He straightened up from a contemplation of his boot
heel; with a sudden thought, he searched the inner pocket of his coat.
"And that isn't all. By George, I've lost my pocketbook, and a lot of
money in it! But it can't be far; I've lost it somewhere on my boy chase.
Come on, Dewing; help me hunt for it."

They left the boy at his mending and took the back track. Before they had
gone a dozen yards Dewing saw the lost spur, far down the hill, lodged
under a prickly pear. Stanley, searching intently for his pocketbook, did
not see the spur. And Dewing said nothing; he lowered his eyelids to veil
a sudden evil thought, and when he raised them again his eyes, which for
a little had been clear of all save boyish mischief, were once more tense
and hard.