m as he left the saddle. He was as fresh and nimble,
unshaken and serene, as when he mounted old Whetstone more than an hour
before.

Whetstone was a conquered beast, beyond any man's doubt. He stood with
flaring nostrils, scooping in his breath, not a dry hair on him, not a
dash of vinegar in his veins.

"Where's Jim?" the Duke inquired.

"Comin'," Taterleg replied, waving his hand afield.

"What's he doin' out there--where's he been?" the Duke inquired, a
puzzled look in his face, searching their sober countenances for his
answer.

"He thought you----"

"Let him do his own talkin', kid," said Siwash, cutting off the cowboy's
explanation.

Siwash looked at the Duke shrewdly, his head cocked to one side like a
robin listening for a worm.

"What outfit was you with before you started out sellin' them
tooth-puller-can-opener machines, son?" he inquired.

"Outfit? What kind of an outfit?"

"Ranch, innercence; what range was you ridin' on?"

"I never rode any range, I'm sorry to say."

"Well, where in the name of mustard did you learn to ride?"

"I used to break range horses for five dollars a head at the Kansas City
Stockyards. That was a good while ago; I'm all out of practice now."

"Yes, and I bet you can throw a rope, too."

"Nothing to speak of."

"Nothing to speak of! Yes, I'll _bet_ you nothing to speak of!"

Jim didn't stop at the corral to turn in his horse, but came clattering
into camp, madder for the race that the Duke had led him in ignorance of
his pursuit, as every man could see. He flung himself out of the saddle
with a flip like a bird taking to the wing, his spurs cutting the ground
as he came over to where Lambert stood.

"Maybe you can ride my horse, you damn granger, but you can't ride me!"
he said.

He threw off his vest as he spoke, that being his only superfluous
garment, and bowed his back for a fight. Lambert looked at him with a
flush of indignant contempt spreading in his face.

"You don't need to get sore about it; I only took you up at your own
game," he said.

"No circus-ringer's goin' to come in here and beat me out of my horse.
You'll either put him back in that corral or you'll chaw leather with
me!"

"I'll put him back in the corral when I'm ready, but I'll put him back
as mine. I won him on your own bet, and it'll take a whole lot better
man than you to take him away from me."

In the manner of youth and independence, Lambert got hotter with every
word, an