ard problem. I'll give him to you, if you can break him,
or I'll trade him for your Jack."

"I'll do it," cried Mose, catching his breath in excitement as he
studied the splendid beast. His lithe, tigerlike body glittered in the
sun, though his uplifted head bore a tangled, dusty mat of mane. He was
neglected, wary, and unkempt, but he was magnificent. Every movement of
his powerful limbs made the boy ache to be his master.

Thus Mose took his place among the cowboys. He started right, socially,
this time. No one knew that he had been a sheep herder but Reynolds, and
Reynolds did not lay it up against him. He was the equal of any of them
in general horsemanship, they admitted that at the end of the second
day, though he was not so successful in handling cattle as they thought
he should be. It was the sense of inefficiency in these matters which
led him to give an exhibition of his skill with the revolver one evening
when the chance offered. He shot from his horse in all conceivable
positions, at all kinds of marks, and with all degrees of speed, till
one of the boys, accustomed to good shooting, said:

"You kin jest about shoot."

"That's right," said the cow boss; "I'd hate to have him get a grutch
agin me."

Mose warmed with pardonable pride. He was taking high place in their
ranks, and was entirely happy during these pleasant autumn days. On his
swift and wise little ponies he tore across the sod in pursuit of swift
steers, or came rattling down a hillside, hot at the heels of a
wild-eyed cow and calf, followed by a cataract of pebbles. Each day he
bestrode his saddle till his bones cried out for weariness, and his
stomach, walls ground together for want of food, but when he sat among
his fellows to eat with keenest pleasure the beef and beans of the pot
wrestler's providing, he was content. He had no time to think of Jack or
Mary except on the nights when he took his trick at watching the night
herd. Then, sometimes in the crisp and fragrant dusk, with millions of
stars blazing overhead, he experienced a sweet and powerful longing for
a glimpse of the beautiful girlish face which had lightened his days and
nights in prison.

The herders were rough, hearty souls, for the most part, often obscene
and rowdy as they sat and sang around the camp fire. Mose had never
been a rude boy; on the contrary, he had always spoken in rather
elevated diction, due, no doubt, to the influence of his father, whose
speech was alw