Fred was sent to help hold the Bar B herd. The big bunch had dwindled to a handful. Finally the last cow was cut out and Dick and Jim brought her whooping across the flat. For a closing flourish as they plunged up to their herd, they jerked out their revolvers and emptied them into the air. The nervous cattle jumped as if shot and bolted across the flat with the boys full chase behind them. Fred was on Brownie, who was straining every nerve to get ahead and turn the herd, when suddenly she lurched and fell, throwing the boy over her head. The herd swept on. Fred lay dazed for a moment, then he rose and went to his little mare. She had staggered to her feet and stood trembling with pain. The boy was stunned to find one of her front legs broken. A badger hole had done its wicked work. The boy turned heartsick; he threw his arms about the suffering animal’s neck and cried like a child. Jim was the first to find the boy in his trouble. “It’s a damned shame, Teddy, and it’s all my doin’s, damme. I orter had better sense. But brace up, boy; brace up. I’ll do the square thing.” Dan and Dick had ridden up. Dan leaped from his horse and examined the broken leg carefully. “No use,” he shook his head soberly; “the little mare’s done for. There’s just one thing left to do, Fred; you must end her sufferings quickly.” “Oh, I can’t do it; I can’t do it!” replied Fred, chokingly. “Come, don’t beller,” blurted Dick. “Gimme a gun. I’ll do it.” “No, you don’t,” said Fred, with a touch of anger. “If she has to die, no heartless cuss shall kill her.” He paused--then turning to Dan asked feelingly--“Won’t you please do it for me?” “If you wish it, my boy.” Fred stroked the suffering mare’s forehead, and laid his face against her glossy brown cheek. She pressed his face gently in response to his sympathy, then he turned quickly and walked hurriedly toward camp, never once looking back. The boys sat silent, respecting his sorrow, all but Dick. His face carried a flush of anger and the suggestion of a sneer, which made Jim say, when Fred was out of hearing, “That was damned mean of you, Dick, to jeer at a man in trouble.” Dick winced, but held his tongue. Fred had just reached the camp wagon, when Dan’s revolver was heard. Brownie’s sufferings were over; this was the one comforting thought that echoed through his brain through the long gloomy night. Jim and Dan planned to get the boys to “chip in” and buy Fred another saddle horse; but before they could put their generous thoughts into execution, both of them were sent with the beef steers to the shipping point, three days’ drive away. When they returned, Fred had left the ranch. No one knew where he had gone. It happened in this way. He was sitting out on the corral fence one day with Cap Hanks and Dick, when suddenly the foreman turned on Dick and asked, “Have you been ropin’ any cattle around this ranch?” “No,” said Dick, a little confused.