Two gallant figures they made as they galloped across the plain, the wind blowing up the wide brims of their hats, the grace and freedom of strength and skill in every movement of body and limb. Lariats were at their saddle horns, and Curtis carried a six-shooter in his belt, but Gonzalez had only his knife, thrust into his boot leg. They circled and headed off the steers, which eluded and dashed past them again and again, until presently Conrad noticed that the largest of the three acted as a sort of leader. "Rope him, José," he called, "and then we can manage the others." As Gonzalez in response came galloping toward the animal from one side, Curtis rushed past it on the other to prevent it from getting away and giving another chase. He glanced at the loop that came whirring through the air and his heart gave a bound of vexation. "The fool greaser is throwing too far," he muttered. With an instinct of sudden peril he dug in his spurs and his horse made a quick, long leap. He whirled about in time to see the snakey noose fall on the spot whence they had jumped. "What's the matter with you, José?" he shouted. "You nearly roped me instead of the steer! Try it again." Gonzalez coiled his rope and galloped after the steer and half an hour later the two men rode into the round-up, driving the panting and humbled animals. One of the younger and less experienced men, Billy Black, generally known as "Billy Kid," happened to lame his horse and bruise himself that day, and was ordered to stay in camp to nurse his knee. At Rock Springs, where they made camp next day, a man who gave his name as Andy Miller rode up and asked for a job. He explained that he had been working on a little ranch over toward Randall but had got tired of the place and was pushing for the railroad. Hampered by Billy Black's accident, Conrad was glad of the opportunity and tested his skill with horse and rope. "You'll do," he said. "I'm short of hands, and you can stay with us until we get to the railroad if you like." The new man was stockily built, and looked strong and agile. Around the campfire that night he won his way at once into the good graces of the other men, cracking jokes, telling stories, and roaring out cowboy songs until bedtime. They were so hilarious that Conrad joined their circle, smoked his after-supper pipe with them, and laughed at Miller's jokes and yarns. The Rock Springs watering-hole was in a hilly region, broken here and there by stony gulches. The outflow from the springs ran through a ravine which furrowed the hillside to its foot, turned abruptly westward, and widened out into a goodly pool, where the cattle waded and drank. The camp lay on the hillside above the springs, and the cattle were bunched over its brow on the other side.