we had with Captain Byler. Previous to the herd which Deweese
had sold and delivered at Fort Worth the year before, our horse stock
had amounted to about four thousand head. With the present sale the
ranch holdings would be much reduced, and it was our intention to retain
all _manadas_ used in the breeding of mules. When we commenced gathering
we worked over every one of our sixty odd bands, cutting out all the
fillies and barren mares. In disposing of whole _manadas_ we kept only
the geldings and yearlings, throwing in the old stallions for good
measure, as they would be worthless to us when separated from their
harems. In less than a week's time we had made up the herd, and as they
were all in the straight 'horse hoof' we did not road-brand them. While
gathering them we put them under day and night herd, throwing in five
_remudas_ as we had agreed, but keeping back the bell mares, as they
were gentle and would be useful in forming new bands of saddle horses.
The day before the appointed time for the delivery, the drover brought
up saddle horses and enough picked mares to make his herd number fifteen
hundred.

The only unpleasant episode of the sale was a difference between
Theodore Quayle and my employer. Quayle had cultivated the friendship of
the drover until the latter had partially promised him a job with the
herd, in case there was no objection. But when Uncle Lance learned that
Theodore expected to accompany the horses, he took Captain Frank to
task for attempting to entice away his men. The drover entered a strong
disclaimer, maintaining that he had promised Quayle a place only in case
it was satisfactory to all concerned; further, that in trail work with
horses he preferred Mexican vaqueros, and had only made the conditional
promise as a favor to the young man. Uncle Lance accepted the
explanation and apologized to the drover, but fell on Theodore Quayle
and cruelly upbraided him for forsaking the ranch without cause or
reason. Theodore was speechless with humiliation, but no sooner were
the hasty words spoken than my employer saw that he had grievously hurt
another's feelings, and humbly craved Quayle's pardon.

The incident passed and was apparently forgotten. The herd started north
on the trail on the twenty-fifth of March, Quayle stayed on at Las
Palomas, and we resumed our regular spring work on the ranch. While
gathering the mares and fillies, we had cut out all the geldings four
years old and upward to