still has
some speed. Pick up that saddle there," and he pointed to what is called
a Mexican saddle, which has a high pommel and back; "the bridle is tied
to it, and we'll go out to the corral. You ought to get so you can do
pretty well by night. You've got to, because I need another puncher with
my short-horn herd over by Red Top."

The thought that he was to be stationed close to the town that might
hold secrets of the greatest importance to himself so excited Bob that
his hands trembled as he seized the saddle.

Attributing this action to fear of the broncho, Ford said:

"You sure ain't scared of riding a pony when you faced Chester, are
you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then why are you trembling so?"

"Oh, because I'm so happy at having found a job, I guess," dissembled
Bob. And then, in order to direct the ranchman's attention from
himself, he asked:

"Why do you call your dog Chester?"

This question served Bob's purpose better than he could have desired,
for it caused the grizzled plainsman to start suddenly.

Instantly recovering himself, however, he countered by demanding
sharply:

"What makes you ask that?"

"Because it's such a queer name for a dog."

"Well, he's a queer dog," returned Ford tersely. "Now, come along with
that saddle."

As though aware of their purpose, the dog had preceded them from the
cabin, but as Ford and Bob stepped forth, he stopped, began to sniff the
air and then emitted a long, low growl.

"Somebody's coming," announced the ranchman, pausing and following the
direction of the wolfhound's gaze.

Eagerly Bob did the same, and in a few moments beheld a man riding a
horse and leading another.

Instantly it flashed to the boy's mind that the horseman was his friend
the station agent, who, having learned his destination, had followed,
and he exclaimed:

"That's Hal Thomas!"

"What makes you think so?" demanded Ford sharply.

"Because he's a friend of mine and he was trying to buy a horse for me
when I started for your ranch."

"Well, you couldn't have a better friend," asserted the ranchman.

During this colloquy the dog had set up a furious barking and snarling,
leaping about in evident readiness to spring upon the horseman when he
should get well within the clearing.

By this time the two men and boy were near enough to recognize one
another, and Bob's surmise was correct, for the rider was none other
than Hal Thomas with Firefly.

"Hey, Ford, call off your dog,"