r quirts. Once they got him
running, it was all over, of course. If I remember right, Mr.
Roosevelt rode the horse on a long circle that morning and brought him
in safe, hours later, as good as gold."[17]

[Footnote 17: "During the course of the Barnes-Roosevelt
trial at Syracuse in 1916, Roosevelt was taking dinner
one evening at the house of Mr. Horace S. Wilkinson.
Chancellor Day, of Syracuse University, who was present,
said: 'Mr. Roosevelt, my attention was first directed to
you by an account of a scene when you were with the
cowboys. It told of your trying to get astride a bronco,
and it was a struggle. But you finally conquered him,
and away you went in a cloud of dust.'

"'Very true, very true,' said Roosevelt, 'but I rode him
all the way from the tip of his ear to the end of his
tail.'"--_Rev. D. B. Thompson, Syracuse_, N.Y.]

The horse which Roosevelt had called "Ben Butler" was not so easily
subdued. It was "Ben Butler's" special antic to fall over backward. He
was a sullen, evil-eyed brute, with a curve in his nose and a droop in
his nostrils, which gave him a ridiculous resemblance to the
presidential candidate of the Anti-Monopoly Party. He was a great
man-killing bronco, with a treacherous streak, and Roosevelt had put
him in his "string" against the protests of his own men. "That horse
is a plumb outlaw," Bill Dantz declared, "an' outlaws is never safe.
They kinda git bad and bust out at any time. He will sure kill you,
sooner or later, if you try to ride him."

One raw, chilly morning, Roosevelt, who had been ordered to ride "the
outside circle," chose "Ben Butler" for his mount, because he knew the
horse was tireless and could stand the long, swift ride better than
any other pony he had. As Roosevelt mounted him, the horse reared and
fell over backward. He had done that before, but this time he fell on
his rider. Roosevelt, with a sharp pain in his shoulder, extricated
himself and mounted once more. But the horse now refused to go in any
direction, backward or forward.

Sylvane and George Myers threw their lariats about the bronco's neck,
and dragged him a few hundred yards, choking but stubborn, all four
feet firmly planted and pawing the ground. When they released the
ropes, "Ben Butler" lay down and refused to get up.

The roun