Poor Smoky had lost again, but in a way he'd won,--he'd won the heart of a cowboy, cause, thru that fight that cowboy's feelings was for the little horse. He'd seen, understood, and admired the show of thinking qualities and the spirit which was Smoky's. * * * * * The idea might be got, on account of Smoky being the steady loser, that his spirit would get jarred and finally break, but if anybody thinking so could of seen that horse the next day that idea would of been scattered considerable. His time on the picket rope had been spent on _more_ thinking and figgering, and the way he went after the tall grass showed he meant to be in shape to carry thru whatever the new scheme was. And some would of thought it queer to've seen how Smoky, the steady loser in the contest, seemed to hold no grudge or hate against the winning cowboy. As it was, that pony seemed to welcome that human a lot as he walked towards him the next morning, and the way he rubbed his head against the shoulder of that smiling rider showed that the fights in the corral had got to be some friendly. Both was mighty serious, and both meant to win in them fights, but soon as they was over and the dust cleared there was a feeling the likes of when two friends have an argument, when the argument comes to an end both the loser and winner are ready to grin, shake hands, and be friends again. Smoky had lost out twice in trying to dodge out from under his man, but he was nowheres near convinced as yet that it couldn't be done. The third time Clint climed him that pony bucked harder than ever and that cowboy just sat up there and let him. Clint had whipped _some_ horses for bucking that way, but he'd whipped them because it was natural orneriness that made 'em buck. With Smoky it was different, there was no meaness in him so far,--that pony was confident that nothing could set him once he got onto the hang of knowing how to buck real well, and all he wanted was to be _showed_ for sure that Clint could really set there and ride him thru his worst that way. After that was done he'd most likely quit. * * * * * The first couple of times Smoky was rode and after he'd quit his bucking, there hadn't been much more to it excepting that Clint would just run him around a bit and turn him a few times till the hump was well down on that pony's back. Smoky had got to thinking that was all would ever come of being corraled and saddled, and so, he was some surprised, when after the bucking spell was over at that third setting, to see the corral gate opened wide, the cowboy on him again, and heading him for open country.