ge. He was wet through anyhow. It did not matter how much
of the deluge struck him. The janitor fought to keep dry and he had
not a chance on earth to succeed.

For one hundred and seventy-five pounds of Arizona bone and muscle,
toughened by years of hard work in sun and wind, had clamped itself
upon him. The nozzle twisted toward the janitor. He ducked, went
down, and was instantly submerged. When he tried to rise, the stream
beat him back. He struggled halfway up, slipped, got again to his
feet, and came down sitting with a hard bump when his legs skated from
under him.

A smothered "Vat t'ell!" rose out of the waters. It was both a yelp of
rage and a wail of puzzled chagrin. The janitor could not understand
what was happening to him. He did not know that he was being treated
to a new form of the water cure.

Before his dull brain had functioned to action an iron grip had him by
the back of the neck. He was jerked to his feet and propelled forward
to the curb. Every inch of the way the heavy stream from the nozzle
broke on his face and neck. It paralyzed his resistance, jarred him so
that he could not gather himself to fight. He was still sputtering "By
damn," when Clay bumped him up against a hitching-post, garroted him,
and swung the hose around the post in such a way as to encircle the
feet of the man.

The cowpuncher drew the hose tight, slipped the nozzle through the iron
ring, and caught the flapping arms of the man to his body. With the
deft skill of a trained roper Clay swung the rubber pipe round the body
of the man again and again, drawing it close to the post and knotting
it securely behind. The Swede struggled, but his furious rage availed
him nothing. He was in the hands of the champion roper of Graham
County, a man who had hogtied a wild hill steer in thirty-three seconds
by the watch.

It took longer than this to rope up the husky janitor with a squirming
hose, but when Clay stepped back to inspect his job he knew he was
looking at one that had been done thoroughly.

"I keel you, by damn, ef you don't turn me loose!" roared the big man
in a rage.

The range-rider grinned gayly at him. He was having the time of his
young life. He did not even regret his fifty-five-dollar suit.
Already he could see that Arizona had nothing on New York when it came
to getting action for your money.

"Life's just loaded to the hocks with disappointment, Olie," he
explained, and his voice was fu