ood deal of the overardent spirits which
were sold at Misery. If he could drink without becoming noisy, so much
the more to his credit, so much higher he stood in the estimation of his
fellows as a copper-bottomed sport of the true blood. The Duke could put
more of that notorious whisky under cover, and still contain himself,
than any man they ever had seen in Misery. The more he drank the glummer
he became, but he never had been known either to weep or curse.

Older men spoke to him with respect, younger ones approached him with
admiration, unable to understand what kind of a safety-valve a man had
on his mouth that would keep his steam in when that Misery booze began
to sizzle in his pipes. His horse was a subject of interest almost equal
to himself.

Under his hand old Whetstone--although not more than seven--had
developed unexpected qualities. When the animal's persecution ceased,
his perversity fled. He grew into a well-conditioned creature, sleek of
coat, beautiful of tail as an Arab barb, bright of eye, handsome to
behold. His speed and endurance were matters of as much note as his
outlawry had been but a little while before, and his intelligence was
something almost beyond belief.

Lambert had grown exceedingly fond of him, holding him more in the
estimation of a companion than the valuation of a dumb creature of
burden. When they rode the long watches at night he talked to him, and
Whetstone would put back his sensitive ear and listen, and toss his head
in joyful appreciation of his master's confidence and praise.

Few horses had beaten Whetstone in a race since he became the Duke's
property. It was believed that none on that range could do it if the
Duke wanted to put him to his limit. It was said that the Duke lost only
such races as he felt necessary to the continuance of his prosperity.

Racing was one of the main diversions when the cowboys from the
surrounding ranches met at Misery on a Sunday afternoon, or when loading
cattle there. Few trains stopped at Misery, a circumstance resented by
the cowboys, who believed the place should be as important to all the
world as it was to them. To show their contempt for this aloof behavior
they usually raced the trains, frequently outrunning those westward
bound as they labored up the long grade.

Freight trains especially they took delight in beating, seeing how it
nettled the train crews. There was nothing more delightful in any
program of amusement that a c