passed, the horse's coat of bronze and
gold fairly rippled in the sun as the perfect muscles played beneath,
and the delight that Jim got, none but a horseman would understand. As
the lad cantered away to a camping group and returned, the Preacher had
a fair view. The horse might have been twin brother to his own, and he
did not need the rider's assurance that the steed was a "Kaintucky blood
all right."

In all the Western towns an interesting custom has grown up in the
matter of registering. The chief hotel is accepted as the social centre
and clubhouse, so that a man arriving in town, whether he puts up at the
hotel or not, goes to the register and enters his name. "Never fail to
register; it may be handy to prove an alibi," has become a saying. Jim
went to the hotel with an idea. He registered, glanced over the other
names and learned that Cattleman Kyle was then in town. It was easy to
find him in a place of this size, and after a brief search Jim hailed
him boisterously from afar:

"Say, Kyle, I've found what you are looking for."

"What's that?"

"A horse. A real horse. A winner."

"What? Are you willing to sell Blazing Star?"

"No!" was the forceful answer. "Come and see."

And Kyle did see. His eye kindled as he watched the glorious creature in
the sun.

"By jinks! He's all right. He's better than Blazing Star."

"Not on your life!" said Jim, with sudden heat, "but he's what you are
after."

They walked casually up to the young rider. Kyle began:

"Say, young fellow, is that horse for sale?"

"Yo' the fo'th pah'ty to-day to ask that," was the softly cooed answer.
"No, he ain't fo' sale."

"Looks to me like a Kentucky blood," said Kyle. "Are you going to keep
him in this country or ride him back?"

"Wall, I'm h'yah to stay, and I guess he stays with me."

"What are you going to feed him on? You can't get timothy or beans or
oats out here. He couldn't keep up on prairie hay; and, if you did try
it, he'd get the loco weed."

This was a good shot and the rider had no ready answer, so Kyle
continued. "How old is he?"

"Fo' last spring and sound as a bell; hasn't a fault," was the reply.

"Why don't you swap him for something that can stand the country?" said
Kyle. Then, as the Southerner did not reply, Kyle continued: "I'll give
you two steady young saddle horses raised in the country and proof
against pinkeye and loco weed."

"If you add about a thousand dollars, I might consider it," was t