champion buster of Arizona."

"Shucks!" piped up Little Billy excitedly, "Phil can ride anything what
wears hair, can't you, Phil?"

Phil, embarrassed at the laughter which followed, said, with tactful
seriousness, to his little champion, "That's right, kid. You stand up
for your pardner every time, don't you? You'll be riding them yourself
before long. There's a little sorrel in that bunch that I've picked out
to gentle for you." He glanced at his employer meaningly, and the Dean's
face glowed with appreciation of the young man's thoughtfulness. "That
old horse, Sheep, of yours," continued Phil to Little Billy, "is getting
too old and stiff for your work. I've noticed him stumbling a lot
lately." Again he glanced inquiringly at the Dean, who answered the look
with a slight nod of approval.

"You'd better make him gentle your horse first, Billy," teased Curly.
"He might not be in the business when that big one gets through with
him."

Little Billy's retort came in a flash. "Huh, 'Wild Horse Phil' will be
a-ridin' 'em long after you've got your'n, Curly Elson."

"Look out, son," cautioned the Dean, when the laugh had gone round
again. "Curly will be slippin' a burr under your saddle, if you don't."
Then to the men: "What horse is it that you boys think is goin' to be
such a bad one? That big bay with the blazed face?"

The cowboys nodded.

"He's bad, all right," said Phil.

"Well," commented the Dean, leaning back in his chair and speaking
generally, "he's sure got a license to be bad. His mother was the
wickedest piece of horse flesh I ever knew. Remember her, Stella?"

"Indeed I do," returned Mrs. Baldwin. "She nearly ruined that Windy Jim
who came from nobody knew where, and bragged that he could ride
anything."

The Dean chuckled reminiscently. "She sure sent Windy back where he came
from. But I tell you, boys, that kind of a horse makes the best in the
world once you get 'em broke right. Horses are just like men, anyhow. If
they ain't got enough in 'em to fight when they're bein' broke, they
ain't generally worth breakin'."

"The man that rides that bay will sure be a-horseback," said Curly.

"He's a man's horse, all right," agreed Bob.

Breakfast over, the men left the house, not too quietly, and laughing,
jesting and romping like school boys, went out to the corrals, with
Little Billy tagging eagerly at their heels. The Dean and Phil remained
for a few minutes at the table.

"You really oughtn't