oo, you notice."

"_Grub-pile! All down for grub!_" yelled the cook, and the boys came
trooping in. They were all strangers, but not strange to Mose. They
conformed to types he already knew. Some were young lads, and the word
having passed around that "Black Mose" was in camp, they approached with
awe. The man whose sinister fame had spread throughout three States was
a very great personage to them.

"Did you come by way of Wagon Wheel?" inquired a tall youth whom the
others called "Brindle Bill."

"Yes; camped there one night."

"Ain't it a caution to yaller snakes? Must be nigh onto fifteen thousand
people there now. The hills is plumb measly with prospect holes, and
you can't look at a rock f'r less'n a thousand dollars. It shore is the
craziest town that ever went anywhere."

"Bill's got the fever," said another. "He just about wears hisself out
a-pickin' up and a-totein' 'round likely lookin' rocks. Seems like he
was lookin' fer gold mines 'stid o' cattle most of the time."

"You're just in time for the turnament, Mose."

"For the how-many?"

"The turnament and bullfight. Joe Grassie has been gettin' up a
bullfight and a kind of a show. He 'lows to bring up some regular
fighters from Mexico and have a real, sure-'nough bullfight. Then he's
offered a prize of fifty dollars for the best roper, and fifty dollars
for the best shooter."

"I didn't happen to hear of it, but I'm due to take that fifty; I need
it," said Mose.

"He 'lows to have some races--pony races and broncho busting."

"When does it come off?" asked Mose with interest.

"On the fourth."

"I'll be there."

After supper was over Reynolds said: "Are you too tired to ride over to
the ranch?"

"Oh, no! I'm all right now."

"Well, I'll just naturally throw the saddles on a couple of bronchos and
we'll go see the folks."

Mose felt a warm glow around his heart as he trotted away beside
Reynolds across the smooth sod. His affection for the Reynolds family
was scarcely second to his boyish love for Mr. and Mrs. Burns.

It was dark before they came in sight of the light in the narrow valley
of the Mink. "There's the camp," said Reynolds. "No, I didn't build it;
it's an old ranch; in fact, I bought the whole outfit."

Mrs. Reynolds had not changed at all in the three years, but Cora had
grown handsomer and seemed much less timid, though she blushed vividly
as Mose shook her hand.

"I'm glad to see you back," she said.

Moved by an unu