Several days after this some new horses were added to the remuda of the Lunar Company. Harrison picked a young mustang to ride in a chase scene they were going to pull off. The pony was a wiry buckskin with powerful flanks and withers. The prizefighter was no sooner in the saddle than it developed that the animal had not been half broken. It took to pitching at once and presently spilled the rider. Steve, sitting on the corral fence with Jackson and Orman, two other riders for the company, called across cheerfully,-- "Not hurt, are you?" The heavy got up swearing. "Any of your damned business, is it?" He caught at the pony bridle, jerked it violently, and hammered the lifted head of the dancing mustang with his fist. After several attempts he succeeded in kicking its ribs. Yeager said nothing, but his eyes gleamed. In the cow country men interfere rarely when a vicious rider abuses his mount, but such a man soon finds himself under an unvoiced ban. Harrison backed the mustang to a corner, swung to the saddle, and tugged savagely at the reins. Two minutes later he took the dust again. The horse had spent the interval in a choice variety of pitching that included sun-fishing, fence-rowing, and pile-driving. To Jackson Steve made comment. "Most generally it don't pay to beat up a horse. A man's liable to get piled, and if he gets tromped on folks don't go into mourning." Harrison could not hear the words, but he made a fair guess at their meaning. He turned toward Yeager with a snarl. "Got anything to say out loud, young fella?" "Only that any horse is likely to act that way when it gets its back up. I wouldn't ride a horse without any spirit." "Think you can ride this one, mebbe?" Without speaking Yeager slid down from the fence and approached the mustang. The animal backed away, muscles a-tremble and eyes full of fear. Steve's movements were slow, but not doubtful. He stroked the pony's neck and gentled it. His low voice murmured soft words into the alert ear cocked back suspiciously. Then, without any haste or unevenness of motion, he swung up and dropped gently into the saddle. For an instant the horse stood trembling. Yeager leaned forward and patted the neck of the colt softly. His soothing voice still comforted and reassured. Gradually its terror subsided. "Open the gate," Steve called to Orman. He rode out to the creosote flats and cantered down the road. A quarter of an hour later he swung from the saddle beside Threewit. "Plumb gentle. You can make any horse a devil when you're one yourself." They were standing in front of the stable. Threewit started to reply, but the words were taken out of his mouth. From out of the stable strode Harrison, a cold anger in his eyes. "That's your opinion, is it?" Yeager's light blue eyes met his steadily. "You've heard it." "I've heard other things, too. You're taking boxing lessons. You're going to need them, my friend." "The sooner the quicker," answered Steve evenly.