one could see, burned to a brick-red
by the untempered sun of the Rockies; with muscles knit like steel,
and hearts toughened to endure any blizzard they might meet. Only the
humorous wrinkles about the corners of their eyes gave them away for the
cheerful sons of mirth that they were.

"Bob Austin on Two-Step," announced the megaphone man, and a little stir
eddied through the group gathered at the lane between the arena and the
corral.

A meek-looking buckskin was driven into the arena. The embodiment of
listlessness, it apparently had not ambition enough to flick a fly from
its flank with its tail. Suddenly the bronco's ears pricked, its sharp
eyes dilated. A man was riding forward, the loop of a lariat circling
about his head. The rope fell true, but the wily pony side-stepped, and
the loop slithered to the ground. Again the rope shot forward, dropped
over the pony's head and tightened. The roper's mustang braced its
forefeet, and brought the buckskin up short. Another rope swept over its
head. It stood trembling, unable to move without strangling itself.

A picturesque youth in flannel shirt and chaps came forward, dragging
blanket, saddle and bridle. At sight of him the horse gave a spasmodic
fling, then trembled again violently. A blind was coaxed over its eyes
and the bridle slipped on. Quickly and warily, with deft fingers, the
young man saddled and cinched. He waved a hand jauntily to the ropers.
The lariats were thrown off as the puncher swung to the saddle. For an
instant the buckskin stood bewildered, motionless as a statue. There was
a sudden leap forward high in air, and Bob Austin, alias "Texas," swung
his sombrero with a joyous whoop.

"Fan him! Fan him!" screamed the spectators, and the rider's quirt went
up and down like a piston-rod.

Round and round went Two-Step in a vicious circle, "swapping ends" with
dizzying rapidity. Suddenly he went forward as from a catapult, and came
to sudden halt in about five seconds. But Texas's knees still clung,
viselike, to the sides of the pony. A series of quick bucks followed,
the buckskin coming down with back humped, all four legs stiff as iron
posts. The jar on the rider would have been like a pile-driver falling
on his head had he not let himself grow limp. The buckskin plunged
forward again in frenzied leaps, ending in an unexpected jump to one
side. Alas for Texas! One moment he was jubilantly plying quirt and
spurs, the next he found himself pitching s