ranch than we are now. I don't want any
better round-up men than Nesting Henderson and the rest, but we need
another man, and that's why I had to take Low Bull along. But I'll
know better next time."

"Never mind, Billy. I'll see if I can't keep him on the go," said Roy,
and, with a ringing shout, to hurry up some lagging steers, he touched
his horse lightly with the spurs, and dashed toward where the Indian
was making a half-hearted effort to keep his division of the drive from
straggling.

"I've come to help you, Low Bull," announced Roy, as he reached the
side of the Indian.

"Hu! Boy heap smart!" grunted the redman. "Steers like boy--go fast
now."

In fact it seemed as if the cattle knew some one was now behind them
who would keep them on the move, for they quickened their pace.

"I don't know whether they like me or not," remarked Roy, with a laugh
that showed his white teeth in contrast to his bronzed skin, "for I
reckon if I happened to fall off my horse they'd trample over me mighty
quick; they sure would."

"Hu! Mebby so. Steers no like men not on hoss," spoke Low Bull,
stating a fact well known among cattlemen, for the steers of the plains
are so used to seeing a man on a horse, that once a cowboy is
dismounted the cattle become frightened, and are liable to stampede,
and trample the unfortunate man to death.

"Billy says we must hurry the steers along," went on Roy. "We're going
to camp pretty soon, and he wants to get to the ranch as soon as
possible, though I guess it will take us two days more."

"No need so much rush," said Low Bull. "Go slow be better. Boy drive
steers now, Low Bull take smoke and think. Low Bull much tired."

"I guess he was born that way," thought Roy, as he saw the redman start
to make a cigarette, a habit he had learned from the white cowboys.
Low Bull was soon smoking in peace and comfort, while he let his pony
amble along at its own sweet will. The Indian gave no further thought
to the cattle, leaving the management of the stragglers to Roy, and the
lad had to dash here and there on his nimble pony, shouting and waving
his lariat, to keep the lagging steers up with the rest of the herd.
However, Roy was so full of life, and took so much interest in his
work, that he did not mind doing Low Bull's share, as well as his own.

"That's just like that lazy Indian," remarked Billy Carew, as he
observed, from a distance, what Roy was doing. "He'll let the boy do