The cowboy could near see the horse smile at the little colts, and he was surprised at the show of action and interest the old pony had reserved, or gained. He was acting near like a two-year-old, and Clint grinned as he watched. "Daggone his old hide," says the cowboy, "it looks to me like he's good to live and enjoy life for many summers yet;" then thinking strong, he went on, "and maybe in that time he might get to remembering me again--I wonder." He watched Smoky a while longer and till he got acquainted some, and at last deciding it'd be for the best to let him go, he reined his horse out of the gate and let the bunch run by. The old pony seemed to hesitate some as the bunch filed out, he liked their company mighty well but something held him back; then a horse nickered, and even tho that nicker might not of been meant for him, it was enough to make him decide. He struck out on a high lope and towards the bunch;--one of the little colts and full of play waited for him, and nipping the old horse in the flanks run by his side till the bunch was caught up with--Smoky was _living_ again. Clint sat on his horse and watched the bunch lope out over a ridge and out of sight, and with a last glimpse at the mouse colored rump he grinned a little, but it was a sorry grin, and as he kept a looking the way Smoky had gone, he says: "I wonder if he ever will." * * * * * With the green grass growing near an inch a day, Clint wasn't worried much on how old Smoky was making it. He figgered a horse couldn't die if he wanted to, not on that range at that time of the year, but some day soon he was going to try and locate the old horse and find out for sure how he really was. Then a lot of work came on which kept the cowboy from going out soon as he wanted to, and then one morning, bright and early, as he stepped out to get a bucket of water, the morning sun throwed a shadow on the door, and as he stuck his head out a nicker was heard. [Illustration: As he stepped out to get a bucket of water the morning sun throwed a shadow on the door.] Clint dropped his bucket in surprise at what he heard and then seen. For, standing out a ways, slick, and shiny, was the old mouse colored horse. The good care the cowboy had handed him, and afterwards, the ramblings over the old home range, had done its work. The heart of Smoky had come to life again, and full size.