The Trail 



&quot; But I guess I can let you have him,&quot; he con 

 tinued, when he saw my disappointed face. 



&quot;By George!&quot; exclaimed Jones. &quot;You ve got 

 it on us this time.&quot; 



&quot;Would you like to trade?&quot; asked Wallace, as 

 his sorrel tried to bite him. &quot; That black looks sort 

 of fierce.&quot; 



I led my prize out of the corral, up to the little 

 cabin nearby, where I tied him, and proceeded to get 

 acquainted after a fashion of my own. Though not 

 versed in horse-lore, I knew that half the battle was 

 to win his confidence. I smoothed his silky coat, 

 and patted him, and then surreptitiously slipped a 

 lump of sugar from my pocket. This sugar, which 

 I had purloined in Flagstaff, and carried all the way 

 across the desert, was somewhat disreputably soiled, 

 and Satan sniffed at it disdainfully. Evidently he 

 had never smelled or tasted sugar. .-I pressed it into 

 his mouth. He munched it, and ihtn looked me 

 over with some interest. I handed him another lump. 

 He took it and rubbed his nose against me. Satan 

 was mine I 



Frank and Jim came along early in the afternoon. 

 What with packing, changing saddles and shoeing 

 the horses, we were all busy. Old Baldy would not 

 be shod, so we let him off till a more opportune time. 

 By four o clock we were riding toward the slopes of 



77 



