ir of well-worn, plain, calfskin chaps to protect his
legs in riding--something in which the boys could not imitate him, for
they were cut down to their Scout uniforms; which, however, did very
well.

They shook hands all around, the young rancher quietly estimating his
young charges, and they in turn making up their opinions regarding him,
which, needless to say, were not unfavorable, for none were quicker than
they to know a good outdoor man when they saw him.

"So this is old Sleepy?" said Jesse, going up to the sleek big white
mule that stood with drooping head, the stalk of a thistle hanging out
of a corner of his mouth. "He's fat and strong, isn't he? What makes him
look so sad? And aren't you afraid he'll run away? He hasn't even a
halter on him."

"No, he won't run away," replied Billy. "You couldn't drive him away
from the packs. He always comes up every morning to be packed, and he
always stands around like he was going to die--but he isn't. Sleepy'll
live another hundred years, anyhow.

"I never hobble or tie or picket Sleepy at night; he sticks close to old
Fox. That's my horse, the red one. You'd think Fox was going to die,
too, but he isn't. He used to be a cow horse; and a mean one, too, they
say; but all at once he reformed and since then he's led a Christian
life, same as Sleepy.

"About that thistle. Sleepy is very fond of thistles--he'll stop the
whole train to eat one. Usually he carries one hanging in his mouth,
so's to eat it when he gets hungry. He's a wise one, that mule. I'll bet
you, an hour before camp to-night you'll see him wake up and get frisky;
all his tired look is just a bluff. And I'll bet you, too, you can't
manage to ride ahead of Sleepy on the trail. He never will take the last
place on the trail."

"Why, how's that?" said Jesse. "I should think he'd like to loaf behind,
if he's so wise."

"No, Sleepy has got brains. He knows that if he gets a stone in his
foot, or if his pack slips, a man is his best friend. So he just goes
ahead where folks can see that he's comfortable. You can't ride ahead of
him; he'll gallop on and won't let you pass him; so don't try.

"Nigger, that other mule, doesn't care--some one'll have to keep him
moving. I usually carry a little rubber sling shot in my pocket, and
when Nigger gets too lazy and begins to straggle off I turn around and
peck him one with a pebble. Then you ought to see him get into his place
and promise to be good!

"I've got