ange ethics by "pulling leather," the colt shot through the gate of
the corral which Rawhide Jones had thrown open, and across the uneven
plain, determined, since he could not run away from his enemy, to run
away with him.

At home Conniston was accounted an excellent horseman. That meant that
he was used to horses, that he rode gracefully, that he was not afraid
of them. Horses like the maddened, terrified brutes in the corral,
like the quivering, frantic thing he precariously bestrode, he had
never even seen. And still, because he was doggedly determined not to
fail in everything, because he knew that the men who were watching
were enjoying themselves hugely and that they would be greatly
delighted to see him thrown, he at last stopped his horse, and with
spur and quirt urged him back to the corrals. The roan still fought,
still half bucked. But he had not entirely forgotten his past defeats
in encounters like this, and finally allowed himself to be mastered.

Then began the real day's work. There were perhaps fifty cows and
young heifers in the corrals which were to be left behind, as only the
steers were to be driven across country to the Sunk Hole. While
Rawhide Jones and Toothy rode into one of the corrals Conniston was to
sit his horse at the open gate, allowing the steers to run by him into
the open, but heading off any of the smaller cattle. The two Lone Dog
men were together working another corral.

Steer after steer passed by Conniston as he held his horse aside,
keeping a watchful eye for the cows. Rawhide and Toothy were "cutting
them out" as best they could, urging the steers toward the gate,
trying to keep the cows to the far side of the inclosure. But again
and again a quick-footed heifer pressed her slender body against that
of some big, long-horned steer, running with him. That she did not
pass through the gate was Conniston's lookout.

They were not sluggish-blooded brutes. They were as swift as a horse
almost, quick-footed, alert to leap forward or to stop with sharp
hoofs cutting the dry dirt, and swing shortly to the side. In a sudden
onrush toward him Conniston shut off one cow by forcing his horse in
front of her and threatening her with his waving quirt. As she turned
and ran back into the mass behind her he saw two more cows running
toward the gate. He swung his horse and dashed at them. But they had
seen their opportunity, they had grasped it, and they shot through the
gate, mingling with