But, if she was, she carried it off well, for Bowles never got a look from her. Of course, in a bunch of thirty cowboys, even on such a fancy mount as high-headed Wa-ha-lote, one man does not stand out conspicuously from the rest--that is, not unless his horse is pitching. Hardy Atkins was on an outlaw sorrel called El Paso del Norte, and he made up the center of the picture. Del Norte was a wonder at the buck-jump, especially if some one spurred him in the shoulders, which Hardy did, and the departure of our hero was a little dimmed by his dust. Still Bowles was pleased, even if he was leaving the home of his beloved for two weeks, for something told him that he had at last won distinction in the ruck of suitors--the only man who had not let it go for granted that he was in love with Dixie Lee. Of course, he was--desperately so--but an instinct deep down in his breast warned him to conceal it from all the world. And especially from Dixie, the capricious; otherwise, she might win him by a glance and a smile, and then disprize him forever. But now the stern realities of life loomed up before him, and Bowles found himself with a real round-up on his hands. It does not take much of a man to sit on the front porch and talk near-love with a girl; but to follow a Western round-up is a task to try the hardiest. For three hours Bowles rode at a rough trot across the valley, fighting down the awful instinct to rise in his stirrups and "bob"; and then as the distant hills grew nearer the cowboys broke into a lope. They separated into two parties that formed the horns of a circle, dropping off man after man as they jumped up cattle, and still spurring on and on. The puncher with the weakest horse was dropped first, for there would be no chance to change till noon, and the best mounted was saved to the last in order to get his full strength. Bowles was on Wa-ha-lote, and he rode to the end before Henry Lee sent him back with the herd. Very slowly now he plodded along behind his bunch of cattle, riding back and forth as he picked up strays, and driving them all to some common center. To the right and left, and far across to distant hills, he could see lone men at their task, and the great plain became dotted with cattle as the circle closed in on the grounds. A hundred cow-trails, sinuous as snake-tracks, led in to this place they all sought, and when the lowing strings of cattle met it was on the flat by a dammed-up lake. There the herds were thrown together, carefully so that no mother should lose her calf; and while they stood them upon the cutting-ground the wrangler brought up his horses, and each man caught out a fresh mount.