He settled himself to his task, writing at the top of the page the name of Aleck Douglas and after that "Dr." A full page he covered with items set against the names of various neighbors. When he had finished he folded the paper neatly and put it away with other important memoranda, picked up his big gray Stetson and went over to kiss Belle full on her red lips, and to smooth her hair, with a reassuring pat on her plump shoulder as a final caress. "Don't you worry none about the Black Rimmers," he said, "and don't you worry about me. I've got to ride high, wide and handsome now to make up the time and money I lost on account of the spotty yearlin', and maybe I won't be home so much. But I ain't quarreling with my neighbors, nor getting into any kind of ruckus whatever." With the stilted, slightly stiff-legged gait born of long hours in the saddle and of high-heeled riding boots, he walked unhurriedly to the corral where the boys were just driving in a herd of horses. Few of them showed saddle marks, all of them snorted and tossed untrimmed manes and tails as they clattered against the stout poles, circling the big corral in a cloud of dust and a thunder of hoof beats. Pulling his hat down over his black brows to secure it against the wind, Tom climbed the corral fence and straddled the top rail that he might scan the herd. "Pretty good-looking bunch, dad," said Al, reining up beside Tom. "We had to ride some to get 'em in--they're sure snuffy. What you going to do with 'em? Break out a few?" "Some. Did yuh take notice, Al, that Coaley come within an ace of sending me over the road? That there AJ man swore to the horse when he wouldn't never have swore to me, but they all took it as a cinch it was me he saw, because nobody else ever rides Coaley. And by the Lord John, Al, that's the last time any man's going to swear to me in the dark by the horse I'm ridin'. The Devil's Tooth outfit is going to have a lot more saddle horses broke gentle than what they've got now. And just between me and you, Al, any more night-ridin' that's done in this outfit ain't going to be done on cayuses that can be told a mile off on a dark night!" "You're durn tootin', dad." Al grinned while he moistened the edge of his rolled cigarette. "I thought at the time that Coaley was liable to be a damn expensive horse for you to be ridin'." His eyes traveled over the restless herd, singling out this horse and that for brief study. "There's some right speedy stuff in that bunch," he said. "They've got the look of stayers, some of 'em. Take that there bay over there by the post: He's got a chest on him like a lion--and look at them legs! There'd be a good horse for you, dad." "One, maybe." Tom spat into the dust and, impelled by Al's example, drew his own cigarette papers from his shirt pocket. "I'm thinkin' of breakin' all we've got time for this summer. Darn this here makin' one horse your trademark!"