way," exclaimed Bill in mock solemnity.

"That is the brand of this ranch. Every horse, every steer, cow
and calf we own bears a half-moon because this is the Half-Moon
Ranch. When any of our ponies or cattle go astray or mix with
others, the only way we can tell which belong to us is by the
brand."

"How do you put it on?" asked Tom.

"Burn it into the flesh with hot irons. If you can stay till fall,
when we have a round-up, you can see how it's done," said Horace.

Feeling that they were indeed ignorant of ranch life, the two
brothers decided to use their eyes and ask no more questions than
were necessary.

Entering the bunk-house, they saw a long table covered with white
oilcloth and a line of bunks built in two tiers against the wall
opposite the door. A big stove stood at one end, and there were
pegs for saddles, bridles and lassoes all about.

From the bunk-house the boys went to the wagon sheds, which
contained three or four farm wagons and also a buckboard.

"That's for mother," explained Bill. "She doesn't like to ride,
but she can though if it's necessary.

"Here's where your saddles are," he continued, pointing to a beam
into which pegs had been driven. "You want to remember them,
especially when the boys are home. They don't like to have any one
else take their saddles."

"We'll remember," declared Tom and Larry meaningly.

"I suppose we'll find our ponies in the corral?" hazarded Tom.

"Sure thing. And here's something else to keep in mind. Father
always insists that each man put his pony in the corral himself.
Of course this morning he did it for us, but he won't again."

"How do you get the horses when you want them? Call 'em?" asked
Tom.

"Sometimes that will work--after a pony has come to know its
master--but the quickest way is to take some oats in a pan,"
declared Horace. "We keep the oats here," and he opened a bin at
one side of the wagon shed.

"You can use oats on Blackhawk and Lightning and our own ponies,
but when we want a strange horse we rope him. That makes me think,
I've saved a couple of dandy lariats for you. Cross-eyed Pete, one
of our boys, made them for me out of rawhide. They are in my room.
Come on, we'll get them and then show you how to use them."

"Is it hard to learn?" inquired Larry.

"Yes, to throw one every time," replied Bill. "Horace and I have
been practicing ever since we came out. We can do pretty well.
But you ought to see Cross-eye