scattered to their work.

Properly humbled in spirit, he sat down to the kitchen table and ate his
belated breakfast, while the cook kneaded bread at the other end of the
same table and eyed Thurston with frank amusement. Thurston had never
before been conscious of feeling ill at ease in the presence of a
servant, and hurried through the meal so that he could escape into the
clear sunshine, feeling a bit foolish in the unaccustomed bagginess of
his riding breeches and the snugness of his leggings; for he had never
taken to outdoor sports, except as an onlooker from the shade of a grand
stand or piazza.

While he was debating the wisdom of writing a detailed description of
yesterday's tragedy while it was still fresh in his mind and stowing it
away for future "color," Park Holloway rode into the yard and on to the
stables. He nodded at Thurston and grinned without apparent cause, as
the cook had done. Thurston followed him to the corral and watched him
pull the saddle off his horse, and throw it carelessly to one side. It
looked cumbersome, that saddle; quite unlike the ones he had inspected
in the New York shops. He grasped the horn, lifted upon it and said,
"Jove!"

"Heavy, ain't it?" Park laughed, and slipped the bridle down over the
ears of his horse and dismissed him with a slap on the rump. "Don't yuh
like the looks of it?" he added indulgently.

Thurston, engaged in wondering what all those little strings were for,
felt the indulgence and straightened. "How should I know?" he retorted.
"Anyone can see that my ignorance is absolute. I expect you to laugh at
me, Mr. Holloway."

"Call me Park," said he of the tawny hair, and leaned against the fence
looking extremely boyish and utterly incapable of walking calmly down
upon a barking revolver and shooting as he went. "You're bound to learn
all about saddles and what they're made for," he went on. "So long as
yuh don't get swell-headed the first time yuh stick on a horse that
side-steps a little, or back down from a few hard knocks, you'll be all
right."

Thurston had not intended getting out and actually living the life he
had come to observe, but something got in his nerves and his blood and
bred an impulse to which he yielded without reserve. "Park, see
here," he said eagerly. "Graves said he'd turn me over to you, so you
could--er--teach me wisdom. It's deuced rough on you, but I hope you
won't refuse to be bothered with me. I want to learn--everything. And