The cowboy was by this time livid with passion, and, fetching his "Winchester" from the cabin, he, without further reply, started blazing away at the tank, from which the water was soon spurting in all directions. He had obviously completely lost all control of himself, and on an attempt being made to secure him he got his back against a bulkhead and threatened to shoot any man who came near him. If looks went for anything he certainly meant it, and as no one dare approach him he fairly "held up" the ship, or, at any rate, the steerage. In this extremity the captain was appealed to. Seeing that he had a dangerous customer to deal with, and being anxious to avoid bloodshed, he pretended to side with the cowboy, telling him he was quite right in what he had done, and promising to see that the steerage passengers had a better supply of drinking water. Peace being thus restored the malcontent cooled down, and for the rest of the voyage he was quite good-natured and jolly, becoming the life and soul of the ship. In fact, he became so popular that even the captain and mate of the steamer joined in the merrymaking which took place in the steerage. Before the voyage was ended, Mr. Gough--then a youngster in his teens--and Harry the cowboy had established a firm friendship, and this was renewed some nine months later at Leesburg, in Florida, whither Mr. Gough had drifted in search of work. Harry was then ranching at Sumterville, in Texas, and having taken a violent fancy to Mr. Gough he offered to engage him to help with the horses, which offer, coming as it did at an opportune moment, was promptly accepted. The cowboy was a man of about forty, tall and loosely built, with deep-set eyes, a bristly moustache, and a square, determined jaw. His huge, knotted limbs gave evidence of immense physical strength, and his brawny chest might well have served as a model for a sculptor. On special occasions he wore on his breast a small solid gold model of a bull, given him as a memento by a lady whose life he had saved, at the imminent risk of his own, by killing a mad bull that had attacked her, and he was exceedingly proud of his queer medal. Albeit an exceedingly rough specimen of the uncut diamond, Harry the cowboy was, under normal conditions, of an unusually kind and even tender-hearted disposition, but, as this story will show, he was subject to sudden outbursts of temper, often for very trifling reasons, of absolutely appalling ferocity. His ranch was situated in a lonely spot, and there for some months Mr. Gough lived a hard and open-air life, enjoying to the full, in the vigour of his youth and spirits, the arduous round of a rancher's daily toil. Although now and again his companion gave way to outbursts of temper, there was nothing to cause him any serious alarm.