“If they’re any killers amongst ’em leave ’em alone. We aren’t training for the state rodeo; and we’ve got plenty of broncs at home that you can scratch to your heart’s content right in the home corral. Remember Snakey and Diablo. And the roundup will furnish enough fightin’ steers to satisfy even Jami. And say, Angel, let’s see that rope of yours do its stuff.” Then began the real work. Deploying off in twos, they gained by different routes the mouth of the north canyon where foothills enclosed an amphitheater of waving range. At the end was a natural corral, a rock bound prison, and across the narrowest part of this the boys built a pole stockade, with a narrow opening. Leading up to this gate was a runway, along the top and bottom of which they strung barbed wire. Just outside the stockade they put up a saddling pen. It took the entire day to finish, and while the boys were working, with Mr. Shandy’s help, Raquel and Georgie rode herd back and forth about two miles from the mouth of the canyon to keep off any approach of the wild horses at this point. From a high rock Raquel saw down in a coulee a bunch of mares herded together, and two tiny colts, not more than two or three days old, basking in the hot sun. They wobbled and frisked on their uncertain legs, perfect little mustangs. They seemed to grow stronger every minute as they soaked up the sunshine. As the sun began at length to sink, the lord of the herd came thundering up to pick up his mare and they all went off together towards the foothills, but fortunately not towards the box canyon which Raquel had picked out to corral them in. It seemed to Raquel that she could not wait for morning, and that she tossed and turned for hours that night, dreaming of the painted mustang, before sleep came. As a matter of fact she slept almost at once and the dreams all took place in the few restless moments while sounds from adjoining rooms were waking her up. Once again they were out on the plains, searching for a glimpse of the wild horse and his herd. It was noon before Raquel got so much as a sign of their dust, ’way over towards the east. But they were not able to get within a mile of the herd that way. Whenever one of them came up around a slope or rock, the band was already scattered or had shifted to some spot out of sight. Yet they kept always to windward of those keen nostrils. They agreed that they could put in two more days waiting. But luck was with them in the morning. Warm and still, without any wind to carry scent or sound to quivering noses and pointing ears, the very air favored their purpose. There they were, the spirited creatures, feeding in that hollow. And at a signal five cowponies flashed over the rim and drew a flying cordon about the startled and almost instantly speeding band.