"Did it hurt you very much when they burned you with the nasty old
iron?" He pricked his ears forward and whisked his tail, so Bess
said, in a most knowing way, as though he remembered the indignity
clearly. "I don't believe I want to see the branding done," she
added. "That ugly 'XL' doesn't improve his appearance."

"That is 'Cross L' not 'XL'; and the brand is not so disfiguring as
some," Rhoda said. "It helps sell a lot of horses for daddy. His
brand is known all over the country."

"That fact doesn't make it any the less cruel," Grace said, with
some spirit. "How would you like to be branded, Rhoda Hammond?"

"We-ell," drawled Rhoda, "you know, I'm not a horse."

They clattered out of the canon at last, well behind the train, and
then swerved directly west to escape the dust-shrouded herd. Their
ponies were still excited, and Rhoda warned her companions to keep
them well in hand.

Skulking among the rocks at the edge of the plain, they saw several
tawny creatures whose eyes were evidently fixed longingly on the
herd of horses.

"Coyotes," said Rhoda. "They haven't a chance, unless a colt goes
lame and loses its mother."

"Why don't we shoot them?" demanded Walter eagerly.