Smoky felt some easier when he was finally unsaddled and turned in amongst the other saddle horses. He took a good roll, shook himself, and proceeded to get acquainted. It didn't worry him none that very few of the ponies seemed to want his company and he was mighty busy going from one of the big corrals into another and giving 'em all the once over. He finally run acrost a bay gelding which seemed some familiar, and Smoky must of seemed the same to that gelding too for both of 'em started to show interest at once and came to meet one another. Necks bowed, they touched nostrils, some explaining and understanding must of went on cause it wasn't but a few minutes later when each was scratching the other's neck like two brothers--and that's what they was, _brothers_. The bay horse was none other than the little colt, growed up, and which his mammy had brought in the bunch one day over three years before. Signs showed where the saddle had been on his back too. A cowboy had run him in a couple of weeks before and passed the remark as he piled his rope on him that, "This little bay horse sure showed the makings of a cowhorse." Jeff had agreed, and that's how come Smoky found him in amongst the saddle horses that day. He'd showed some of how he'd took a _natural_ liking for the bay, and if one didn't recognize a brother in the other the way they went at scratching each other's withers couldn't of meant much. It was thru an intermission at wither scratching that Smoky seen Clint open the outside gate of the corral and walk in. Alongside of him was Jeff Nicks who'd come along to point out Clint's string of ponies. Smoky watched them two for quite a spell, he watched Jeff the most, but pretty soon went to scratching his brother's withers again. Clint was all right now and well able to take care of himself, he must of thought--Anyway there wasn't the feeling in him that Clint needed any protection. Clint had come to see him that evening, and he'd noticed as his pardner came that some of the cowboys was watching him from the next corral. He looked over Clint's shoulder at 'em and sent out a long whistling snort. "I'm glad Clint didn't break all the broncs like he did that one," remarked one of the boys as he seen the fight in that pony's eyes. "Yep!" says another, "he sure made a _one man_ horse out of him." Smoky was turned out in the big pasture that night with the other horses. Him and his brother paired off soon as they was out of the corrals and fed together till daybreak brought a rider on the sky line who corraled 'em all for the new day's work.