We've saved one, Mescal's belled lamb," he concluded.

Neither Zeke nor George had a word in reply. Hare thought their silence
unnatural. Neither did the mask-like stillness of their faces change.
But Hare saw in their eyes a pointed clear flame, vibrating like a
compass-needle, a mere glimmering spark.

"I'd like to know," continued Dave, calmly poking the fire, "who hired
Dene's men to plug the waterhole. Dene couldn't do that. He loves a
horse, and any man who loves a horse couldn't fill a waterhole in this
desert."

Hare entered upon his new duties as a range-rider with a zeal that
almost made up for his lack of experience; he bade fair to develop
into a right-hand man for Dave, under whose watchful eye he worked. His
natural qualifications were soon shown; he could ride, though his seat
was awkward and clumsy compared to that of the desert rangers, a fault
that Dave said would correct itself as time fitted him close to
the saddle and to the swing of his horse. His sight had become
extraordinarily keen for a new-comer on the ranges, and when experience
had taught him the land-marks, the trails, the distances, the difference
between smoke and dust and haze, when he could distinguish a band of
mustangs from cattle, and range-riders from outlaws or Indians; in a
word, when he had learned to know what it was that he saw, to trust
his judgment, he would have acquired the basic feature of a rider's
training. But he showed no gift for the lasso, that other essential
requirement of his new calling.

"It's funny," said Dave, patiently, "you can't get the hang of it. Maybe
it's born in a fellow. Now handling a gun seems to come natural for some
fellows, and you're one of them. If only you could get the rope away as
quick as you can throw your gun!"

Jack kept faithfully at it, unmindful of defeats, often chagrined when
he missed some easy opportunity. Not improbably he might have failed
altogether if he had been riding an ordinary horse, or if he had to try
roping from a fiery mustang. But Silvermane was as intelligent as he
was beautiful and fleet. The horse learned rapidly the agile turns and
sudden stops necessary, and as for free running he never got enough. Out
on the range Silvermane always had his head up and watched; his life had
been spent in watching; he saw cattle, riders, mustangs, deer, coyotes,
every moving thing. So that Hare, in the chasing of a cow, had but to
start Silvermane, and then he could devote h