him inquiringly. The stranger's interest in that
wonderful scene had led him to overlook that which held his companion's
attention.

"There," whispered Phil impatiently, "on the side of that hill
there--they're not more than four hundred yards away, and they're
working toward us."

"Do you mean those horses?" whispered Patches, amazed at his companion's
manner.

Phil nodded.

"Do they belong to the Cross-Triangle?" asked Patches, still mystified.

"The Cross-Triangle!" Phil chuckled. Then, with a note of genuine
reverence in his voice, he added softly, "They belong to God, Mr.
Honorable Patches."

Then Patches understood. "Wild horses!" he ejaculated softly.

There are few men, I think, who can look without admiration upon a
beautifully formed, noble spirited horse. The glorious pride and
strength and courage of these most kingly of God's creatures--even when
they are in harness and subject to their often inferior masters--compel
respect and a degree of appreciation. But seen as they roam free in
those pastures that, since the creation, have never been marred by plow
or fence--pastures that are theirs by divine right, and the sunny slopes
and shady groves and rocky nooks of which constitute their
kingdom--where, in their lordly strength, they are subject only to the
dictates of their own being, and, unmutilated by human cruelty, rule by
the power and authority of Nature's laws--they stir the blood of the
coldest heart to a quicker flow, and thrill the mind of the dullest with
admiring awe.

"There's twenty-eight in that bunch," whispered Phil. "Do you see that
big black stallion on guard--the one that throws up his head every
minute or two for a look around?"

Patches nodded. There was no mistaking the watchful leader of the band.

"He's the chap that gave me my title, as you call it," chuckled Phil.
"Come on, now, and we'll see them in action; then I'll tell you about
it."

He slipped from the rock and led the way back to the saddle horses.

Riding along the ridge, just under the crest, they soon reached the
point where the chain of low peaks merges into the hills that form the
southern boundary of the basin, and so came suddenly into full view of
the wild horses that were feeding on the slopes a little below.

As the two horsemen appeared, the leader of the band threw up his head
with a warning call to his fellows.

Phil reined in his horse and motioned for Patches to do the same.

For several minu