Smoke of the H-F Bar 



Remingtonians to the comparatively- 

 shapely ones that show a cross or two 

 of horse! But when you know them 

 better and grow familiar with the sort 

 of service they perform for inexperi- 

 enced hands your hat will come off to 

 these same ragged rugged products of 

 an iron environment, and you will know 

 that Nature rarely makes mistakes. 



On these self-styled "dude" ranches 

 of Wyoming a pony goes with each cot 

 and the "grub" — all included in the 

 price where city folks now sometimes 

 go to make first-hand acquaintance 

 with the west. At the H-F Bar the 

 pony is yours to have and to hold — if 

 you can — so long as your vacation 

 lasts. You may not like the first one 

 you draw, but if it so transpires that 

 you do not, you have only to file 

 application with Harry, the senior 

 wrangler, for a change of venue, and 

 perhaps you will get a worse one. Per- 

 haps, however, this bronzed and keen- 

 eyed veteran who knows the bronco 



[75] 



