h interest into the big sheds where the haying
machinery was kept, stopped to listen to the rush of water through the
four-inch pipe of the artesian well, lit his pipe afresh, and moved on
reflectively to the first of the great stock-yards that stretched
beyond. A tight board fence, ten feet high, built as a windbreak on two
sides, obstructed his way; and he started to walk around it. At the end
the windbreak merged into a well-built fence of six wires, and, a
wagon's breadth between, a long row of haystacks, built as a further
protection against the wind. These, together with the wires, formed the
third side of the yard. Leaning on the latter, Scotty looked into the
enclosure, at first carelessly, then with interest. A moment later,
without making his presence known, he stepped back to the hay, and,
selecting a pile of convenient height, sat down in the sunshine to
watch.

What he saw was a tall slim young man, in chaparejos and sombrero, the
inevitable "repeater" at his hip, solitarily engaged in the process of
breaking a bronco. Ordinarily in this cattle-country the first time one
of these wiry little ponies is ridden is on a holiday or a Sunday,
whenever a company of spectators can be secured to assist or to applaud;
but this was not Ben Blair's way. By nature solitary, whenever possible
he did his work as he took his pleasure, unseen of men. At present, as
he went methodically about his business, he had no idea that a person
save Ma Graham was within miles, or that anyone anywhere had the
slightest interest in what he was doing.

"Yard One," as the cowboys designated this corral, was the most used of
any on the ranch. Save for a single stout post set solidly in its
centre, it was entirely clear, and under the feet of hundreds of cattle
had been tramped firm as a pavement. At present it contained a
half-dozen horses, and one of these, a little mustang that was Ben's
particular pride, he was just saddling when Scotty appeared; the others,
a wild-eyed, evil-looking lot, scattering meantime as far as the
boundaries of the corral would permit.

Very deliberately Ben mounted the pony, hitched up the legs of his
leather trousers, folded back the brim of the big sombrero, and
critically inspected the ponies before him. One of them, a demoniacal
looking buckskin, appeared more vixenish than the others, and very
promptly the youth made this selection; but to get in touch of the wily
little beast was another matter. Every