ce, now studying geology at the University of California, though he had
traveled widely since the old ranch days, still counted Ted, sandy
haired, thin and freckled, struggling to make his mother's fruit ranch a
go, his chum. Pedro, a neighbor of the old days, was his roommate in the
fraternity house at Berkeley. All three ran to greet Norris, a young man
in the uniform of the U. S. Geological Survey (son of the Forest
Supervisor), who now appeared, galloping beside Ranger Radcliffe. For he
was to pilot them on a camping trip into the high Sierras in a week or
two.

The first entry was just being led forth to be saddled as the fifth and
final member of their expedition arrived on the scene, afoot,--Long
Lester, a lanky, bewhiskered old prospector in soft felt hat, clean but
collarless "b'iled shirt," vest, cartridge belt and corduroy "pants,"
thrust into the tops of ordinary hob-nailed boots.

"Well, you broncho-busters, out in the center!" megaphoned the man on the
big bay. "Five more riders here!--Two-fifty to ride and seven-fifty more
to go up!" Three men came forward. "We want two more entries. If you
pull-leather or fall off, two-fifty. If a fellow rides a bull with one
hand hold, he gets seven-fifty. Ten dollars if you go up!"

Ace and Ted exchanged glances as they started forward.

"You're sure courtin' trouble," called the Senator.

"I reckon I am," grinned Ted, "but I'm broke."

"You'll have to pay your winnings to get your bones mended."

"I'll take a chance!"

King laughed. Most of the horses he recognized as having been ridden
before. But he was secretly resolved if Ace drew a bad one, to exercise
his parental authority.

The chums drew from the hat, Ace taking the last name. He started as he
looked at his slip. "The white-faced bull," read Ted over his shoulder.

"Gee! Don't tell Dad!" breathed Ace. "What's yours?"

"Spitfire!"

The older boy emitted a long-drawn whistle.

"All right, broncho boys," megaphoned the starter.

The first entry, rearing and snorting, with two lassos about his neck,
had finally been blind-folded and caparisoned.

"Johnny White from Fresno, on Old Ned from Northfork," rang the
announcement. An Indian in overalls swung himself into the saddle
simultaneously with the snatching away of lassos and blinders.

The horse tucked his head almost between his knees, and leaped into the
air, bowing his back and grunting with each jump, while the dust rose
till no one could