ite horse, evidently seeing his lack of
spirit, became a source of downright aggravation, frequently taking
lightning nips at him. At such times Pat would lift his head and hold
himself erect and vigilant during the grazing-period, but he brooded,
none the less, and as persistently refused to eat.

This was not lost upon Stephen or the rangers, neither his refusing to
eat nor the white's antagonism. They spent hours discussing both. Having
found in Pat none of the regular symptoms of disease, yet aware that
something grave was the matter, the rangers fell to discussing Pat's
condition with much earnestness, frequently interrupting their arguments
on the one subject to declare that the white horse, provided Pat held
out and healed up against his complaint, would get a fight such as was
never before witnessed in the desert. That they were evenly matched both
as to build and strength was recognized; that Pat was possessed of a
reserve that told of finer courage all agreed. Yet in this last lurked
opportunities for argument; and argue they did, sometimes long into the
night, the little man known as the Professor and the rangy individual
with the scrubby beard showing the greatest vehemence. Yet despite all
their arguments, to which Stephen invariably listened in smiling
silence, none as yet had offered good reason for the villainous attitude
of the white toward the peaceful Pat.

"_I_ know!" suddenly declared the man with the scrubby beard one
evening, after the tin dishes had been cleared away. "It's jealousy!" He
narrowed his eyes out through the darkness in the direction of the
horses. "Who ever 'u'd believe old Tom out there 'u'd show jealousy? I
see it, though, the first day. You recollect we made a heap of the
black, kind of petting him up some, and Tom, bein', as he sure is, an
intelligent hoss, I reckon he figured it out that he'd played the game
and been faithful all along, and then to see himself set back that way
by a complete stranger, it jest nachelly made him sore. Same as it would
you or me, mebbe, if we was informed polite and all that from
headquarters that they was a new man comin' to jine us that was the pure
quill whichever way you looked at him. Old Tom is bein' et up with
jealousy, I'm regretful to say."

"Animiles feels things a heap more'n humans does," put in the little man
known as the Professor. "But they're more reserved in showin' 'em out.
Yit when they do show 'em out, they're a lot less poli