"I know," Jack exclaimed, as the memory of the talk under his window the night previous came to him. "It was Cactus Ike," and he told what he had heard. "He wanted to get even with me for having been the cause of his being turned out of his room. No wonder they call him Cactus Ike." "I'll tell uncle Morris," cried Nat. "No, say nothing about it," counseled John. "We'll get square in our own way. Pretend nothing happened. If Ike asks us how we liked the ride, we'll never let on we had any trouble. It will keep him guessing." The broken straps were repaired and, by making a pad of his handkerchief Jack was able to adjust the saddle without causing the horse any pain. The animal seemed quite friendly, after all the excitement, which was only caused by its efforts to get rid of the terrible thorn that was driving it frantic. In its roll it had accomplished this, and had no further objection to carrying a boy on its back. Cactus Ike cast several inquiring glances at the lads as they rode into the ranch yard about an hour later. But he did not ask any questions. As the chums were going toward the house Jack heard one of the cowboys remark to Ike: "The black horse looks as if it had been ridden pretty hard." "I'll make him ride harder next time," muttered Ike, but whether he referred to the horse or to himself, Jack was not sure. He watched and saw Ike looking at the sore on the animal, over which the boy's handkerchief was still spread. Jack's first inquiry was as to the condition of Old Peter Lantry. "He's no better," replied Mr. Kent "You'll have to be patient, Jack. All things come to him who waits. Did you have a good ride?" "I got lots of practice," replied Jack, not caring to go into details. "Can't get too much of it," replied Nat's uncle. "You can see some good examples this afternoon." "How's that?" asked Nat. "Some of the boys are going to have a little sport among themselves," replied his uncle. "They do every once in a while when the work gets slack. They're coming in from some of the outlying ranches, about forty of 'em, I guess." "What'll they do?" asked Jack. "You'll see," replied Mr. Kent. Before dinner time the cowboys began arriving. And in what a hurly- burly manner did they come! On their fleet horses or cow-ponies they rode along the trails as if it was in the early days and a tribe of wild Indians was after them. They came up on the gallop, shouting, yelling, and firing their big revolvers off into the air. Up they would rush, almost to the porch that surrounded the house. Then they would suddenly pull their horses back on their haunches and leap off with a whoop, the well-trained beasts standing stock-still when the bridle was thrown over their heads. Then began such play as the boys had never seen before,--such riding as is not even seen in the best of the Wild West shows. The men seemed part of the horses they bestrode, as the animals fairly flew over the ground. "If we could only do that!" exclaimed Nat.