llowed by Curly and Bob, with Little Billy spurring
old Sheep, in hot pursuit.

For a little the Dean lingered in the suddenly emptied corral. Stepping
up on the end of the long watering trough, close to the dividing fence,
he studied with knowing eye the animals on the other side. Then
leisurely he made his way out of the corral, visited the windmill pump,
looked in on Stella from the kitchen porch, and then saddled Browny, his
own particular horse that grazed always about the place at privileged
ease, and rode off somewhere on some business of his own.

When the black horse had spent his strength in a vain attempt to rid
himself of the dreadful burden that had attached itself so securely to
his back, he was herded back to the corral, where the burden set him
free. Dripping with sweat, trembling in every limb and muscle,
wild-eyed, with distended nostrils and heaving flanks, the black crowded
in among his mates again, his first lesson over--his years of ease and
freedom past forever.

"And which will it be this time?" came Curly's question.

"I'll have that buckskin this trip," answered Phil.

And again that swirling cloud of dust raised by those thundering hoofs
drifted over the stockade enclosure, and out of the mad confusion the
buckskin dashed wildly through the gate to be initiated into his new
life.

And so, hour after hour, the work went on, as horse after horse at
Phil's word was cut out of the band and ridden; and every horse,
according to disposition and temper and strength, was different. While
his helpers did their part the rider caught a few moments rest. Always
he was good natured, soft spoken and gentle. When a frightened animal,
not understanding, tried to kill him, he accepted it as evidence of a
commendable spirit, and, with that sunny, boyish smile, informed his
pupil kindly that he was a good horse and must not make a fool of
himself.

In so many ways, as the Dean had said at breakfast that morning, horses
are just like men.

It was mid-afternoon when the master of the Cross-Triangle again
strolled leisurely out to the corrals. Phil and his helpers, including
Little Billy, were just disappearing over the rise of ground beyond the
gate on the farther side of the enclosure as the Dean reached the gate
that opens toward the barn and house. He went on through the corral,
and slowly, as one having nothing else to do, climbed the little knoll
from which he could watch the riders in the distance.