g of men, though Jim still valiantly
held on to Baldy's head, and a thrashing of scrub pinyon, where Baldy
reached out vigorously with his hind feet. But for Jim, he would have
escaped.

"What's all the row?" called Jones from the cabin. Then from the door,
taking in the situation, he yelled: "Hold on, Jim! Pull down on the
ornery old cayuse!"

He leaped into action with a lasso in each hand, one whirling round his
head. The slender rope straightened with a whiz and whipped round
Baldy's legs as he kicked viciously. Jones pulled it tight, then
fastened it with nimble fingers to the tree.

"Let go! let go! Jim!" he yelled, whirling the other lasso. The loop
flashed and fell over Baldy's head and tightened round his neck. Jones
threw all the weight of his burly form on the lariat, and Baldy crashed
to the ground, rolled, tussled, screamed, and then lay on his back,
kicking the air with three free legs. "Hold this," ordered Jones,
giving the tight rope to Frank. Whereupon he grabbed my lasso from the
saddle, roped Baldy's two forefeet, and pulled him down on his side.
This lasso he fastened to a scrub cedar.

"He's chokin'!" said Frank.

"Likely he is," replied Jones shortly. "It'll do him good." But with
his big hands he drew the coil loose and slipped it down over Baldy's
nose, where he tightened it again.

"Now, go ahead," he said, taking the rope from Frank.

It had all been done in a twinkling. Baldy lay there groaning and
helpless, and when Frank once again took hold of the wicked leg, he was
almost passive. When the shoeing operation had been neatly and quickly
attended to and Baldy released from his uncomfortable position he
struggled to his feet with heavy breaths, shook himself, and looked at
his master.

"How'd you like being hog-tied?" queried his conqueror, rubbing Baldy's
nose. "Now, after this you'll have some manners."

Old Baldy seemed to understand, for he looked sheepish, and lapsed once
more into his listless, lazy unconcern.

"Where's Jim's old cayuse, the pack-horse?" asked our leader.

"Lost. Couldn't find him this morning, an' had a deuce of a time
findin' the rest of the bunch. Old Baldy was cute. He hid in a bunch of
pinyons an' stood quiet so his bell wouldn't ring. I had to trail him."

"Do the horses stray far when they are hobbled?" inquired Wallace.

"If they keep jumpin' all night they can cover some territory. We're
now on the edge of the wild horse country, and our nags kno