"What iss dot? I got no Ungel Sam; I got un Ungel Moses und Ungel Solomon, but no Ungel Sam. Ain'd dis a new town? Don' the shentlemans wand a negdie or hangerchief? I haf a"--but Jack and Cal had turned a deaf ear to the would-be "bioneer." As Jack stepped around the trunk of a big pine the noose of a lariat circled around and settled over his head and arms; a short jerk and he was brought up standing. Cal looked on wonderingly, for at the other end of the rope sat a buckskin-clad cow-puncher mounted on a thoroughbred cow-pony. "Now will you be good?" The bronzed face of "Happy Jack" broke into wreaths of smiles and happy laughter. "Hello, Jack!" "Hello yourself." "Shake, old man--put her thar, Jack. Glad ter see yer. Never thought to see yer over here among the Utes." "When did you leave Roaring Forks?" "About a week ago; been looking for some horses that are missing." "Jack, shake hands with Cal Wagner. No, not the minstrel man, but his equal just the same." "Cal, this is 'Happy Jack' of the Bar E Ranch over in the Grand River country." Both men, thus introduced, shook hands, and after a few exchanges of the day "Happy Jack" coiled up his lariat and, lifting his bridle reins, said, "I must look around this camp a while afore the races. May find some signs, but I'll see yer both again--adios." The spurs jingled and his pony loped off toward the valley. Cal looked at the disappearing cow-puncher and turned to Jack, who said: "He's as good one as ever straddled a broncho. He sure is a character and his name is well earned. One of the happiest men I ever met. I'll tell you about him as we take a smoke and watch the Indians. Down on Roaring Forks of the Grand River a young fellow from the east by the name of Eads took up a ranch. He was staked by some rich relative, and after buying a bunch of steers and some American-bred horses, drove them over the Tennessee pass to the Bar E ranch, five miles above the big Hot Springs[A] where the Forks empties into the Grand. He hired 'Happy Jack' as boss of the outfit, and with two or three other cow-punchers he started in and built a log house, and when I was there seemed to be doing well. I was on a hunting trip from Middle Park and heard about the Bar E ranch and the Springs, so our party made the place our camping ground for a week. The grass was fine and all the stock rolling fat. His horses were in two bands--one 'used' on one side of the Forks and the other band grazed on the opposite side. They rounded up the horses once a week at least, and the range riders never let the stock get away very far.