"Why, boy, you're limpin'!" the old man exclaimed. "An' in both legs!" He stopped and looked the young fellow over from hat to heel. "One side of your face's all skinned. Looks as though your left hand'd all been smashed up, it's that swelled. You move like your back hurt, too--like sin. VB?" The boy stopped and looked down at the ground. Then his eyes met those of the old rancher, and Jed Avery understood--he had seen the bond between man and horse; he realized what must have transpired between them. And he knew the love that men can have for animals, something which, if you have never felt it, is far beyond comprehension. So he asked just this question: "How long?" And VB answered: "Six days--from dawn till dark. One to get a halter on him, another to get my hand on his head; three days in the Scotch hobble, and the last--to ride him like a hand-raised colt." Jed replaced his hat, pulling it low to hide his eyes. "Ain't I proud to be your daddy?" he whispered. An overwhelming pride--a pride raised to the _n_th degree, of the sort that is above the understanding of most men--was in the tone _timbre_ of the question. They went on into the house. "Jed," VB said, as though he had waited to broach something of great import, "I've written a letter this morning, and I want to read it to you, just to see how it sounds out loud." He sat down in a chair and drew sheets of small tablet paper toward him. Jed, without answer, leaned against the table and waited. VB read: "My Dear Father: "I am writing merely to say that I know you were right and I was wrong. "I am in a new life, where men do big, real things which justify their own existence. I am finding myself. I am getting that perspective which lets me see just how right you were and how wrong I was. "Since coming here I have done something real. I have captured and made mine the wildest horse that ever ran these hills. I am frankly proud of it. I may live to do things of more obvious greatness, but that will be because men have had their sense of values warped. For me, this attainment is a true triumph. "I am now in the process of taming another beast, more savage than the one I have mastered, and possessing none of his noble qualities. It is a beast not of the sort we can grapple with, though we can see it in men. It is giving me a hard battle, but try to believe that my efforts are sincere and, though it may take my whole lifetime, I am bound to win in the end. "This letter will be mailed in Kansas City by a friend. I am many days' travel from that point. When I am sure of the other victory I shall let you know where I am. "Your affectionate son," He tossed the sheets back to the table top. "I'm going to get it over to Ant Creek and let some of the boys take it to the river when they go with beef," he explained. "Now, how does it sound?"