the black now, it doesn't mean that he's going to have him forever, does it?"
"Riley, you're a devil. That fellow saved my life, they tell me."
"I don't mean you're going to bump him off. But suppose you get him to come and work on your place? There might be ways of getting the hoss-buying him or something. Get him there, and we'll find a way. Besides, he can teach you how to handle the hoss before you get him. I say it's all turned out for the best."
Dunbar frowned. "Take him with me? And every place I go I hear it said, 'There's the man who rode the horse that threw Dunbar!' No, curse him, I'll see him in Hades before I take him with me!"
"How else are you going to get the hoss? Tell me that?"
"That's it," muttered Dunbar. "I've got to have him. I've got to have him! Did you watch? I felt as if the big black devil had wings."
"He had you in the air most of the time, all right," and Riley grinned.
"Shut up," snapped his master. "But the chief thing is, I want to show that big black fiend that I'm his master. He-he's beaten me once. But one beating doesn't finish me!"
"Then go get Hunter to come with us when we ride back."
Dunbar hesitated another instant and then nodded. "It has to be done."
He strode off in pursuit of Bull and presently found the big man in the corral rubbing down the stallion; the little bright-eyed Tod was close beside them. It had been a great day for Tod. First he had felt that his giant pupil was disgraced-a man without spirit. And then, in the time of blackest doubt, Bull Hunter had become a hero and accomplished the great feat-ridden Diablo, before all the incredulous eyes of the watchers. All of Tod's own efforts had been repaid a thousandfold when he heard Bull say to one of those who followed with questions and admiration, "It's not my work. Tod showed me how to go about it. Tod deserves the credit."
That was the reason that Tod's eyes now were supernally bright when big Hal Dunbar approached. Diablo showed signs of excitement, but Charlie Hunter quieted him with a word and went to the bars of the corral. The hand of Dunbar was stretched out, and Bull took it with humble earnestness.
"I'm glad you weren't hurt bad," he said. "For a minute or two I was scared that Diablo-"
"I know," cut in Dunbar, for he detested a new description of the scene of his failure. Then he made himself smile. "But I've come to thank you for what you did, Hunter. Between you and me, I know that I talked rather sharp to you a while back. I'm sorry for that. And now-why, man, your side must be wounded!"
"It's just a little scratch," said Bull good-naturedly. "It isn't the first time that Diablo has made me bleed but now-well, isn't he worth a fight, Mr. Dunbar?"
And he gestured to the magnificent, watchful head of the stallion. The heart of Hal Dunbar swelled in him. By fair means or foul, he must have that horse, and on the spot he made his proposition to Hunter. He had only to climb on the back of Diablo and ride south with him; the pay would be anything-double what he got from Bridewell, who, besides, was almost through with him, Dunbar understood.
"But I'm not much good," and Bull sighed reluctantly. "I can't use a rope, and I don't know cattle, and-"
"I'll find uses for you. Will you come?"
So it was settled. But before Bull climbed into the saddle and started off after Dunbar, little Tod drew him to one side.
"There ain't any good in Dunbar. Watch him and-remember me, Bull."
* * *
Jack Hood had ridden out on his rounds with a new horse that morning, and the new horse developed the gait of a plow horse. The result was that grim old Jack reached the house that night with a body racked by the labor of the day and a disposition poisoned for the entire evening. He was met at the stable by Riley, and the sight of him brought a spark for the moment into the eye of the foreman.
"You're back, then, and you got Diablo?"
"Look yonder."
Jack Hood went to the box stall and came back rubbing his hands, but
"Riley, you're a devil. That fellow saved my life, they tell me."
"I don't mean you're going to bump him off. But suppose you get him to come and work on your place? There might be ways of getting the hoss-buying him or something. Get him there, and we'll find a way. Besides, he can teach you how to handle the hoss before you get him. I say it's all turned out for the best."
Dunbar frowned. "Take him with me? And every place I go I hear it said, 'There's the man who rode the horse that threw Dunbar!' No, curse him, I'll see him in Hades before I take him with me!"
"How else are you going to get the hoss? Tell me that?"
"That's it," muttered Dunbar. "I've got to have him. I've got to have him! Did you watch? I felt as if the big black devil had wings."
"He had you in the air most of the time, all right," and Riley grinned.
"Shut up," snapped his master. "But the chief thing is, I want to show that big black fiend that I'm his master. He-he's beaten me once. But one beating doesn't finish me!"
"Then go get Hunter to come with us when we ride back."
Dunbar hesitated another instant and then nodded. "It has to be done."
He strode off in pursuit of Bull and presently found the big man in the corral rubbing down the stallion; the little bright-eyed Tod was close beside them. It had been a great day for Tod. First he had felt that his giant pupil was disgraced-a man without spirit. And then, in the time of blackest doubt, Bull Hunter had become a hero and accomplished the great feat-ridden Diablo, before all the incredulous eyes of the watchers. All of Tod's own efforts had been repaid a thousandfold when he heard Bull say to one of those who followed with questions and admiration, "It's not my work. Tod showed me how to go about it. Tod deserves the credit."
That was the reason that Tod's eyes now were supernally bright when big Hal Dunbar approached. Diablo showed signs of excitement, but Charlie Hunter quieted him with a word and went to the bars of the corral. The hand of Dunbar was stretched out, and Bull took it with humble earnestness.
"I'm glad you weren't hurt bad," he said. "For a minute or two I was scared that Diablo-"
"I know," cut in Dunbar, for he detested a new description of the scene of his failure. Then he made himself smile. "But I've come to thank you for what you did, Hunter. Between you and me, I know that I talked rather sharp to you a while back. I'm sorry for that. And now-why, man, your side must be wounded!"
"It's just a little scratch," said Bull good-naturedly. "It isn't the first time that Diablo has made me bleed but now-well, isn't he worth a fight, Mr. Dunbar?"
And he gestured to the magnificent, watchful head of the stallion. The heart of Hal Dunbar swelled in him. By fair means or foul, he must have that horse, and on the spot he made his proposition to Hunter. He had only to climb on the back of Diablo and ride south with him; the pay would be anything-double what he got from Bridewell, who, besides, was almost through with him, Dunbar understood.
"But I'm not much good," and Bull sighed reluctantly. "I can't use a rope, and I don't know cattle, and-"
"I'll find uses for you. Will you come?"
So it was settled. But before Bull climbed into the saddle and started off after Dunbar, little Tod drew him to one side.
"There ain't any good in Dunbar. Watch him and-remember me, Bull."
* * *
Jack Hood had ridden out on his rounds with a new horse that morning, and the new horse developed the gait of a plow horse. The result was that grim old Jack reached the house that night with a body racked by the labor of the day and a disposition poisoned for the entire evening. He was met at the stable by Riley, and the sight of him brought a spark for the moment into the eye of the foreman.
"You're back, then, and you got Diablo?"
"Look yonder."
Jack Hood went to the box stall and came back rubbing his hands, but
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