"Ambling off there, so the sun can strike all that silver and bounce back in our eyes.

And that braided lariat--I'd sure love to see the pieces if he ever tries to anchor anything bigger than a yearling!" "Why, you don't think for a minute he could ever get out and rope anything, do yuh ?" Irish laughed.

"That there Native Son throws on a-w-l-together too much dog to really get out and do anything." "Aw," fleered Happy Jack, "he ain't any Natiff Son.

He's a dago!" "He's got the earmarks uh both," Big Medicine stated authoritatively.

"I know 'em, by cripes, and I know their ways." He jerked his thumb toward the dazzling Miguel.