y because he had not been riding constantly
for a couple of years, was glad to go to his bunk, listening to the
breezy Western talk of the men and the yarns of cattle and of horses
that they had to tell. He hardly knew that he had fallen asleep when
Bob-Cat shook him, saying:

"Better tumble up, bub. Rifle-Eye is sure an early bird. He's some
chanticleer, believe me. He's plumb convinced that if he ain't awake and
up to greet the sun, it won't rise."

Wilbur laughed and "tumbled up" accordingly.

At breakfast, over the plentiful food served on tin plates and in tin
mugs, Rifle-Eye was entirely silent, uttering never a word and paying no
attention to any allusion about horses. Right after the meal Wilbur went
down to the corral, saddled one of his two new horses, put a leading
bridle on the other, and, after bidding Bob-Cat and the boys "Good-by,"
started for the point where he was to meet the Ranger.

As he rode up, the old frontiersman scanned carefully the two horses the
boy had with him and his face cleared.

"What horses are those?" he asked.

"Oh, just a couple I got for the forest work," answered Wilbur with
overdone carelessness.

They rode on in silence a few rods, then the old Ranger spoke again.

"Don't ever be afraid o' lettin' on you've made a mistake, son," he
said; "the more mistakes you make the more you'll know. There's only one
thing to remember, don't make the same mistake twice."

"I'll try not," said the boy.

The Ranger reined up beside the lad, and, reaching out his long, gaunt
hand, patted the neck of the pony on which Wilbur was riding.

"They're half-sisters, those two," he said. "I raised 'em from colts
myself. I rode the mother over these very trails, many and many's the
time. This one is called Kit, after her."

Wilbur flushed at the remembrance of the manner in which before he had
slighted the old scout's choice.

"Oh, Rifle-Eye," he said penitently, "if I'd only known!"

"You'll prize them more now," the Ranger said.

[Illustration: COWBOYS AT THE ROUND-UP.

The riders of the Double Bar J Ranch bunching up their cattle in the
National Forest.

_Photograph by U. S. Forest Service._]

CHAPTER V

A TUSSLE WITH A WILD-CAT

"Bob-Cat was telling me," said Wilbur, as with the Ranger he rode
through the arid and silvered grayness of the Mohave desert and reached
the foothill country, "that before you entered the Service you were
pretty well known as a hunter."