muscled cowboy had fought only to lose. Now that she had
conquered, however, Grace felt weak and dizzy, and the reaction,
she found, was worse than the experience itself.

At Hi Lang's command, half a dozen cowboys had sprung to her
assistance, but it was Hi who held up his arms to help her down.

"Fall over. I'll catch you," he urged.

Grace shook her head and tried to smile.

"I--I think I can make it, tha--ank you," she gasped, freeing her
feet from the stirrups and slipping limply until her feet touched
the ground. For a moment she stood leaning against the bronco for
support, one hand clinging to the pommel of the saddle.

The guide sought to draw her away, fearful that the pony might
spring to one side and let loose a volley of kicks.

Grace shook her head, her left hand grasped the mane of the pony
and she pulled herself to his head. Fumbling in her pocket, she
drew forth a piece of candy and felt rather than, saw the bronco's
lips close over the sweet morsel.

"Wall, ef thet don't beat the Dutch!" exclaimed a cowboy. "A
bronc' eatin' outer a lady's hand. What's the alkali flats a-
comin' to!"

"She's a reg'lar lion tamer, thet's the shorest thing I know,"
declared another. "Hey! What's up now?"