Smoky didn't come, but he held his ground and listened to the talk. Clint talked on and watched him till the horse lost some of his wild look and then slow and easy started walking his way. Something and away in the past seemed to hold Smoky as the cowboy slowly came nearer and nearer. His instinct was all for him a leaving the spot he was holding, but that something which stuck in his memory was the stronger and sort of kept him there. Clint came on a few steps at the time, and then stopped, and talking the while, took his time till he was within a few feet of Smoky. A little flaw of any kind right then in that human's actions could of spoilt things easy and sent the pony a skeedaddling away from there in a hurry, but Clint knowed horses and specially Smoky too well to do anything of the kind. He knowed just what was going on between that pony's ears, and how to agree with all that mixed in there. Finally, Clint got to where by reaching out he could near of touched Smoky. Slow and easy the cowboy raised a hand and held it to within a few inches of the pony's nose, Smoky looked at it and snorted, but pretty soon he stretched his neck and mighty careful took a sniff of the human paw. He snorted again and jerked his head away from it, but it wasn't long when he took another sniff, then another and another, and each time the snort growed less to be heard, till at last, Smoky even allowed that paw to touch his nostrils, the fingers rubbed there easy for a spell and gradually went on a rubbing along his nose along on up to between his eyes and pretty soon between his ears to that knowledge bump. Five minutes afterwards Smoky was following the grinning cowboy all around the corral. [Illustration: Slow and easy Clint raised a hand and held it to within a few inches of his nose. Smoky stretched his neck, sniffed at it, and snorted.] * * * * * The round up wagons, all cleaned and loaded, was ready to pull out, the remuda was all accounted for and each string pointed out to each rider, and Jeff giving the whole outfit another look over waved a hand, the pilot reined his horse into a bucking start, all took up his lead and thru the big gates of the home ranch, wagons, riders, remuda, and all lined out. The spring round up had started. Smoky broke the record for learning that year, and when the fall round up was over and the saddle was pulled off him for the last time before being turned out on the winter range, there was two little white spots of white hair showed on each side of his withers and about the size of a dollar,--saddle marks they was, and like medals for the good work he'd done. There was a knowing spark in his eyes for the critter too, for the little horse had got to savvy the cow near as well as the old cowhorses that'd been in the same remuda that year.