Then began a terrible fight between the man and the horse. The latter tried to get its head down between its fore-legs, arching up its back and bucking wildly about, trying to unseat its rider, who, however, sat firm as a rock, holding the reins tight. After the horse had plunged and reared for some time, the bars of the corral were let down, and the cowboy worked the refractory steed towards this opening and out on the prairie. Here the animal made a fresh fight for victory; and, as if inspired to try another method to get free of its unwelcome burden, it suddenly darted away full gallop across the plain. They thundered along for miles, the rider quite powerless to check the runaway, nor did he wish to. He let the horse go, and at last it began to weary, and, of its own accord, lessened its speed. Slower and slower it went, until it would have stopped altogether, if the cowboy had permitted it. But this was his opportunity to show he was master, and accordingly he kept the colt going on; and when at last he turned its head towards home and trotted it back to the corral, its sweat-stained coat and drooping tail showed that the victory was won and the wild spirit subdued. As it carried the cowboy quietly enough up to the waiting group of spectators, they knew that the worst was over, and the colt, after such a struggle, would never give the same trouble again. Jack was very happy at the ranch, as everyone took an interest in such a little traveller and was good to him. Mr. Stuart made him wild with pleasure, as he said he would like to do Steve Byrne a good turn for his kindness, and intended to write on the chance of his coming to Longview, and offer to make him one of his cowboys. Jack knew Steve would like nothing better, and it pleased him to think that his good-natured cousin would benefit through him. Jack had been only three days with the Stuarts, when one evening a strange-looking vehicle, called a buckboard, drawn by an old white mule, approached the ranch, and a tall, wiry old man jumped out and knocked at the door. He held himself very erect, and although his hair was gray, he looked many years younger than he really was. His appearance was hailed with shouts of delight, for he was well known and a favourite with all. 'Come in, man!' cried Mr. Stuart, greeting him like an old friend. 'No one could be more welcome than yourself. I've not seen you for months.' 'I've been up in Nebraska till lately,' returned the man. 'I've stayed there a bit too long, as I ought to be in the Gunnison by now. Anyhow, I couldn't cross the Range without running in to have a look at you all.' 'That's right, Joe,' said Mr. Stuart. 'You'll stay here the night, of course? Get your mule to his alfalfa, and come on in to supper.'