But his nerve was gone for the afternoon.

He made a sad bungle of all the work, though he was not again unhorsed.
There was bareback riding, and riding by pairs, in which latter feat one man of each pair passed his bridle to the comrade beside him, then rode with folded arms.

Then came riding by threes, with the center man holding the bridles from either side, while each of the outer men rode with folded arms.

Then, cautiously, the men were taught to stand on the bare backs of their horses and to move at a walk.

By and by they would be required to ride, standing, at a gallop.
All through this drill, Dick Prescott rode with precision, power, and even grace.
Yet never had his mind been further from the present work than it was this afternoon.
Had Bert Dodge known more of what Prescott had seen as the former lay for that instant on the tan-bark, Dick's enemy would have fallen from his horse in a delirium of fear.
For, as Bert fell in the center of the tan-bark the left sleeve of his coat had been pushed back, exposing the white linen cuff.
From the inner hem of that cuff, up to the middle, Dick Prescott had gazed, for an instant only, on row after row of small, evenly lettered words or rows of numerals.