a party to the deal, though they noticed
Bill riding away with the spoilt horse. He took him down on the creek
about a mile from camp and hung him.

"How did he do it? Why, there was a big cottonwood grew on a bluff
bank of the creek. One limb hung out over the bluff, over the bed of
the creek. He left the running noose on the horse's neck, climbed out
on this overhanging limb, taking the rope through a fork directly over
the water. He then climbed down and snubbed the free end of the rope
to a small tree, and began taking in his slack. When the rope began
to choke the horse, he reared and plunged, throwing himself over the
bluff. That settled his ever hurting any one. He was hung higher than
Haman. Bill never went back to the camp, but struck out for other
quarters. There was a month's wages coming to him, but he would get
that later or they might keep it. Life had charms for an
old-timer like Bill, and he didn't hanker for any reputation as a
broncho-buster. It generally takes a verdant to pine for such honors.

"Last winter when Bill was riding the chuck line, he ran up against
a new experience. It seems that some newcomer bought a range over on
Black Bear. This new man sought to set at defiance the customs of the
range. It was currently reported that he had refused to invite people
to stay for dinner, and preferred that no one would ask for a night's
lodging, even in winter. This was the gossip of the camps for miles
around, so Bill and some juniper of a pardner thought they would make
a call on him and see how it was. They made it a point to reach his
camp shortly after noon. They met the owner just coming out of the
dug-out as they rode up. They exchanged the compliments of the hour,
when the new man turned and locked the door of the dug-out with a
padlock. Bill sparred around the main question, but finally asked if
it was too late to get dinner, and was very politely informed that
dinner was over. This latter information was, however, qualified with
a profusion of regrets. After a confession of a hard ride made that
morning from a camp many miles distant, Bill asked the chance to
remain over night. Again the travelers were met with serious regrets,
as no one would be at camp that night, business calling the owner
away; he was just starting then. The cowman led out his horse, and
after mounting and expressing for the last time his sincere regrets
that he could not extend to them the hospitalities of his camp, rod