Within a hundred feet he swerved slightly; the long detaching rings again writhed in mid air and softly descended as he thundered past.

But when he had reached the line of circuit again, he turned and made directly for the road he had entered.

Fifty feet behind his horse's heels, at the end of a shadowy cord, the luckless serape was dragging and bounding after him! "The old man is quiet enough this morning," said Andreas, as he groomed the sweat-dried skin of the mustang the next day.

"It is easy to see, friend Pinto, that he has worked off his madness on thee.".