The Last of the Plainsmen 



&quot; Now, go ahead,&quot; he said, taking the rope from 

 Frank. 



It had all been done in a twinkling. Baldy lay 

 there groaning and helpless, and when Frank once 

 again took hold of the wicked leg, he was almost 

 passive. When the shoeing operation had been 

 neatly and quickly attended to and Baldy released 

 from his uncomfortable position he struggled to his 

 feet with heavy breaths, shook himself, and looked 

 at his master. 



&quot; How d you like being hog-tied? &quot; queried his 

 conqueror, rubbing Baldy s nose. &quot; Now, after this 

 you ll have some manners.&quot; 



Old Baldy seemed to understand, for he looked 

 sheepish, and lapsed once more into his listless, lazy 

 unconcern. 



&quot;Where s Jim s old cayuse, the pack-horse?&quot; 

 asked our leader. 



&quot; Lost. Couldn t find him this morning, an had 

 a deuce of a time findin the rest of the bunch. Old 

 Baldy was cute. He hid in a bunch of pinons an 

 stood quiet so his bell wouldn t ring. I had to trail 

 him.&quot; 



&quot; Do the horses stray far when they are hobbled? &quot; 

 inquired Wallace. 



&quot;If they keep jumpin all night they can cover 



some territory. We re now on the edge of the wild 



102 



