Bellowing and kicking they dodged and ran but Dan, with his dog and his whip, steered them back and drove them finally through the gateway. Harry, Rob and Dan looked proudly at the cattle. "A nice bunch of critters," said Rob. "They are that," Dan assented gravely. "As good as any I have and I've the best herd in the valley. Now ye've the last word whin some felly picks on 'em." "A good start is half the journey," said Rob, "and I'm obliged to you. Come up to the tent, Dan. It's hot work riding on a day like this, and sis will make us some lemonade." "I see you've the sheep still wid ye." Dan nodded toward the hillside. "Got 'em for keeps." Rob went on to tell what he had just found out. "The worst of it is," he said, "that that herder is a mean one, and Joyce is a mean one, too; so between them I guess I'm in for trouble." Dan nodded. "Y'are. Niver did ye say truer worrud. Meanness is the cud thim two niver swallys. But I'll be tellin' ye a thing, lad." He leaned forward and laid his hand on Rob's knee. "Ye don't want to let thim think ye're beaten. That Joyce has half a dozen homesteads a'ready that he's paid his herders to file on, for sure! But kape yer eyes open, and might be you'd find a way to come up with him yet." "I'm afraid a tenderfoot like me hasn't much of a show against an old-timer like him." "Niver say it. There niver was a rashcal yit that didn't lave wan footprint at least in the mud, smart as he'd be, and it's mebbe you that's the lad wit' the eyes to see it. Watch him, Rob, watch him." Rob shook his head, yet nevertheless he felt a glow of hope in his heart. That evening, just before bedtime, Jones returned to the ranch, spread his quilt on the dry grass under a tree and became one of the family. He was good company, and Harry would have been glad to have him about, except that he took so much of Rob's attention. Every morning at sunrise the two began to work with the colts, breaking them one by one to bit and bridle, and then to harness and wagon. As soon as the forenoon grew warm, they shut the colts in the meadow at the head of the draw. This was a natural pasture lot, watered by a spring that flowed from the rocks under the next lift in the foothills and sheltered on all sides by trees. Here the horses were safe and the boys paid no more attention to them throughout the day. Jones always rode away through the valley while Rob plowed, went on with his task of fencing, or did some work in the garden. After supper the boys resumed their business of breaking the colts. Twice Jones had ridden away in the evening taking one or more of the harness-broken horses with him and had returned some days later without them. Harry supposed that he had sold them. Neither Rob nor Jones ever talked about the horses in her presence and she had soon understood that she was not expected to ask questions about them.