lose his seat, slid forward on the horse's withers and clung with arms
and legs round Panchito's neck, emulating terror. Thereupon, Panchito
stood up on his hind legs, and Farrel, making futile clutchings at the
horse's mane, slid helplessly back; over his mount's glossy rump and
sat down rather solidly in the dust of the corral.

"Bravo!" the girl cried. "Why, he's a circus horse!"

"I've schooled him a little for trick riding at rodeos, Miss Parker.
We've carried off many a prize, and when I dress in the motley of a
clown and pretend to ride him rough and do that silly slide, most
people enjoy it."

Farrel got up, recovered his boots, and put them on.

"He'll do, the old humorist," he announced, as he joined her. "He
hasn't forgotten anything, and wasn't he glad to see me again? You use
an English saddle, I dare say, and ride with a short stirrup?"

Panchito dutifully followed like a dog at heel to the tack-room, where
Farrel saddled him and carefully fitted the bridle with the
snaffle-bit. Following a commanding slap on the fore leg, the
intelligent animal knelt for Kay to mount him, after which, Farrel
adjusted the stirrup leathers for her.

In the meantime, Pablo was saddling a splendid, big dappled-gray
gelding.

"One of the best roping-horses in California, and very fast for half a
mile. He's half thoroughbred," Farrel explained. "He was my father's