CORRAL DUST 



the Round-Up in the Friday mornin', old Sledge want- 

 ed to ride himself, so he just chased the boy right off 

 the saddle of the snubbing horse and got right up in 

 the saddle himself, but the judges wouldn't allow it. 



"That white-faced black un is Hot Foot; he chills 

 'em when he stalls skyward and then volplanes down. 

 There's Angel, only he is in disguise, and that there is 

 Midnight, but mostly goodnight to those who think 

 they can ride him; the next is Bugs, but few of 'em 

 dare scratch 'im. Them there's Brown Eyes and Bat- 

 tling Nelson, Sunflsh Mollie 'n' Fuzzy 'n' Rambling 

 Sam in that bunch," Bill pointed with his quirt. "And 

 in that other corral in yonder corner is Lightning 

 Creek, Rimrock, Corkscrew 'n' Desolation. You sure 

 do feel lonely on him. They were all used in the semi- 

 finals last year, and so was Bill Hart, over there under 

 the shade of that willow. Hughey Strickland showed 

 Sundance there a new step, though, when he rode him. 

 That feller Black Diamond — he's sure worth his 

 weight in gold to this outfit. 



"See that hoss with his eyes closed, sleepin' like? 

 That's No-Name because the Round-Up ain't got no 

 name bad enough to express 'im, and the Round-Up's 

 so hard put to it to find one, that they're even willin' 

 to pay the feller that gits a worse name fer him than 

 any of the rest of the bunch. Name 'im and you can 

 have 'im, I says — he's why I'm limping — lucky fer me 

 he wern't shod." 



"The chestnut there is Unknown, by that I mean it's 

 what he's called, but we know him hereabouts all right, 

 and so we do old Leatherneck yonder, — he's tough as 

 tripe. But say, pard, the horse licking the other's 

 shoulder 's You Tell Em — most of 'em can't, after 

 they've patted his back. And say, pard, take it from 



89 



