He has lost none of his love of excitement, and he is quite as interested in what is going on before him as Archie; but he stands with his hands in his pockets, looking as dignified as a judge.

It would be a wonder if they were not somewhat excited, as they are witnessing a desperate battle that is going on between two of their uncle's Rancheros and a wild steer, which one of them has lassoed, and is trying to pull through the gate into the cow-pen.

The animal is struggling furiously for his freedom, and the issue of the contest is doubtful.
At the time our story begins, Frank and his cousin had lived two months in Southern California, where Mr.Winters owned a farm--or, in the language of that country, a _rancho_--of sixteen thousand acres.

Besides attending to his business in the mines, and superintending his affairs in Sacramento, Uncle James had devoted a portion of his time to stock-raising; and, when Frank and Archie first saw his immense droves of horses and cattle, they thought them sufficient in numbers to supply all the markets in America.
Mr.Winters's rancho was not managed like the farms in our part of the country.

To begin with, there were but three fences on it--one inclosed two small barns and corn-cribs; another, a pasture of two or three acres, and the third formed the cow-pen.