our hero stood irresolute, he saw Silas Pine gain a sitting
posture, and gaze about him with the air of one who is dazed.

[Illustration: "Silas Pine gazed about him with the air of one who is
dazed."]

"Are you badly hurt?" inquired Ridge, as he reached the man's side.

"I don't know," replied Silas, moving his limbs cautiously, and feeling
of various portions of his body to ascertain if any bones were broken.
"Reckon not. But will you kindly tell me what happened?"

"You were breaking in Mr. Van Kyp's horse, and got thrown," replied
Ridge, as gravely as possible, but with an irrepressible smile lurking
in the corners of his mouth.

The bronco-buster, noting this, became instantly filled with wrath.

"Got thrown, did I? And you think it a thing to laugh at, do you?
Well, you wouldn't if you'd been in my place. I claim to know
something about hosses, and I tell you that's not one at all. She's a
'hoss devil,' that's what she is, for all she looks quiet as a sheep.
But I'll kill her yet or die trying to tame her; for such a brute's not
fit to live."

"Won't you let me try my hand at it first?" asked Ridge.

"You? you?" exclaimed the man in contemptuous amazement. "Yes, I will,
for if you are fool enough to tackle her, you are only fit to be
killed, and might as well die now as later. Oh yes, young feller, you
can try it; only leave us a lock of your hair to remember you by, and
we'll give you a first-class funeral."

By this time two Mexican riders, who had started in pursuit of the
runaway animal, had cornered it in an angle of the high fence
surrounding the camp-grounds, flung their ropes over its head, and were
dragging it back, choking and gasping for breath, to the scene of its
recent triumph.

"Hold on!" cried Ridge in Spanish, running towards them as he spoke,
and shouting commands in their own language.

Slipping the cruel ropes from the neck of the quivering mare, that
stared at him with wild eyes, Ridge petted and soothed her, at the same
time talking gently in Spanish, a tongue that she showed signs of
understanding by pricking forward her shapely ears. After a little
Ridge led the animal to a watering-trough, where she drank greedily,
and then into camp, where he begged a handful of sugar from one of the
cooks.

Some ten minutes later, without having yet attempted to gain the
saddle, he led the mare back to the place from which they had started,
all the while talking to her and stroking