riders of the high country. And Young Pete, detailed to help "gather"
in some of the most rugged timberland of the Blue, would not have
changed places with any man. He had been allotted a string of ponies,
placed under the supervision of an old hand, entered on the pay-roll at
the nominal salary of thirty dollars a month, and turned out to do his
share in the big round-up, wherein riders from the T-Bar-T, the Blue,
the Eight-O-Eight, and the Concho rode with a loose rein and a quick
spur, gathering and bunching the large herds over the high country.

There was a fly in Pete's coffee, however. Young Andy White had been
detailed to ride another section of the country. Bailey had wisely
separated these young hopefuls, fearing that competition--for they were
always striving to outdo each other--might lead to a hard fall for one
or both. Moreover, they were always up to some mischief or other--Andy
working the schemes that Pete usually invented for the occasion. Up to
the time that he arrived at the Concho ranch, Young Pete had never
known the joy of good-natured, rough-and-tumble horseplay, that
wholesome diversion that tries a man out, and either rubs off the
ragged edges of his temper or marks him as an undesirable and
to-be-let-alone. Pete, while possessing a workable sense of humor, was
intense--somewhat quick on the trigger, so to speak. The frequent
roughings he experienced served to steady him, and also taught him to
distinguish the tentative line between good-natured banter and the
veiled insult.

Unconsciously he studied his fellows, until he thought he pretty well
knew their peculiarities and preferences. Unrealized by Pete, and by
themselves, this set him apart from them. They never studied him, but
took him for just what he seemed--a bright, quick, and withal
industrious youngster, rather quiet at times, but never sullen.