holding the latter by the forelock turned to Betty.

"I'd like you to ride Blackleg home. He's your horse now. Kelton will
lend you a halter to lead that skate you're on. While he's gettin' the
halter I'll put your saddle on Blackleg--if you'll get off."

Betty dismounted and the change was made. She had admired
Blackleg--she was in love with him now that he belonged to her, but she
was afflicted with a sudden speechlessness over the abruptness with
which he had made the gift. She wanted to thank him, but she felt it
was not time. Besides, he had not waited for her thanks. He had
placed the halter on the horse she had ridden to the Diamond K, had
looked on saturninely while Kelton had helped her into the saddle, and
had then carried his own saddle to a point near the outside of the
corral fence, laying the bridle beside it. Then he uncoiled the
braided hair lariat that hung at the pommel of the saddle and walked to
the corral gate.

With a little pulse of joy over her possession of the splendid animal
under her, and an impulse of curiosity, she urged him to the corral
fence and sat in the saddle, a little white of face, watching Calumet.

The black horse was alone in the corral and as Calumet entered and
closed the gate behind him, not fastening it, the black came toward him
with mincing steps, its ears laid back.

Calumet continued to approach him. The black backed away slowly until
Calumet was within fifty feet of him--it seemed to Betty that the horse
knew from previous experience the length of a rope--and then with a
snort of defiance it wheeled and raced to the opposite end of the
corral.

"Watch the gate!" called Calumet to Kelton.

He continued to approach the black. The beast retreated along the
fence, stepping high, watching Calumet over its shoulder. Plainly, it
divined Calumet's intention--which was to crowd it into a corner--and
when almost there it halted suddenly, made a feint to pass to Calumet's
left, wheeled just as suddenly and plunged back to his right.

The ruse did not work. Calumet had been holding his rope low, with
seeming carelessness, but as the black whipped past he gave the rope a
quick flirt. Like a sudden snake it darted sinuously out, the loop
opened, rose, settled around the black's neck, tightened; the end in
Calumet's hand was flipped in a half hitch around a snubbing post
nearby, and the black tumbled headlong into the dust of the corral,
striking with a force tha