hurry and clear out.”
“Thanks, Mr. Yancey, we’ll do that,” Jim said pleasantly. He slapped his rein. “Let’s ride.”
As they left the road and cut into the woods, Snape called after them. “There’s a clearin’ about a half-mile straight ahead. I betcha ya’ll find them two horses grazin’ there together.”
“Thanks, Bud,” Jim called back. “Sounds like a good tip.”
“Wal, Jim, what’d I tell you,” Pete said, after they had ridden out of earshot. “Is Yancey an unfriendly cuss or ain’t he?”
“He is,” Jim answered with a chuckle. “And he’s also a pain in the collar button.”
Joey peered through the trees ahead. “Gosh, I sure hope we find Fury in that clearing. If we don’t, we’ll have to ride all the way up to Blazing Ridge.”
“Simmer down,” Jim said. “We’ll have Fury back before the day’s over.”
When the light grew brighter in the dusky forest, Jim gave the hand signal to halt. “The clearing’s just ahead. Let’s continue as quietly as possible.”
In a moment Joey caught his breath and pointed. “There!” he exclaimed in a low voice. “Look!”
Grazing at the far edge of the clearing, gleaming snowy white in the sunlight, was the mustang mare. Fury stood grazing beside her. Hearing the approaching riders, he flung his head up and gave an angry stallion scream. The mare leaped sideways, whinnying in fright.
“Call him, Joey!” Jim commanded. “Let him know it’s you!”
“Fury!” Joey shouted. “Fury, it’s me!”
Fury bent his ears toward the sound of the voice, then turned to the mare and voiced a shrill command. She wheeled obediently and raced from the clearing into the safety of the forest.
“Come on!” Pete yelled. “Let’s catch him before he takes off after her!”
As they burst into the clearing, Fury darted away in the direction taken by the fleeing mare.
“Fury!” cried Joey. “Fury, come back!”
“Dismount!” Jim barked. “Try to coax him back, before he gives us a chase.” Jim caught hold of the pony’s bridle as Joey leaped to the ground.
Fury had hesitated at the far edge of the clearing. Joey walked toward him, slowly.
“Fury, it’s Joey. Come to me . . . please!”
The great stallion turned his head uncertainly, caught between his instinct to follow the mare and his love for his young master.
“Lookit him,” Pete muttered. “Right now he’s half-wild an’ half-tame. He kin go either way.”
“I think Joey will win,” Jim said. “Temporarily, anyway.”
The men sat quietly in their saddles, watching the youngster in his struggle to win Fury back. Joey was pleading softly, with both arms outstretched. Ten yards from the trembling stallion he stopped and called Fury’s name. He was no longer pleading, he was demanding obedience. Fury looked at the outstretched arms, took a pace forward, then glanced back into the woods. Finally, with a sigh that was almost human, Fury made his decision, cantered to Joey’s side, and pushed his muzzle against the boy’s shoulder. Joey placed his palm against Fury’s soft upper Up and rubbed it lovingly.
“Thanks, Fury,” he whispered. “I’m glad you decided to come with me, instead of her.”
The stallion threw his head back and nickered with delight. Grasping the thick mane, Joey vaulted to his back and rode him across the clearing.
“Good work, Joey,” Jim said.
Pete’s eyes twinkled. “What was so good about it? A strong he-male’s better’n a purty female any day. Right, Joey?”
Joey rubbed Fury’s left ear and nodded.
Riding in a circle, to avoid meeting Mr. Yancey again, they made their way back to the skid trail a half-mile below the logging operation. It was high noon as they cantered through the gate of the Broken Wheel.
Chapter 2
A MASCOT FOR FURY
Spring came early to the valley. In April, after Old Man Winter had retreated for good, the Broken Wheel Ranch hummed with activity. Jim Newton’s business was to capture and gentle wild horses, and sell them to cattlemen as working ponies and to rodeos as bucking stock. In preparation for the coming of the new herd of mustangs, Jim and a group of newly hired hands had built several new corrals and stocked the hayloft with feed. When all was ready, the riders set out for the roundup.
Catching the wild horses called for plenty of hard work and hard riding. Traps were built in selected spots, where the mustangs were watering. The traps, actually a series of corrals, were set up in canyons or deep draws, so that once the horses entered the chutes they found themselves at a dead end, unable to escape. After a day or two in the catch corrals, to get them accustomed to a fence, the animals were herded down to the BW and turned loose in the new enclosures.
Now, once again, Jim Newton was in business. The next step was to break the green broncs to saddle and bridle. When this exhausting work was completed, the new stock was ready for sale.
Jim and Pete had not seen the white mare during the roundup. Jim reasoned that she had either eluded them or run away to join another herd. During the breaking period, Fury was ever on the alert. Standing at the edge of his own corral, with his head held high and his nose searching the air, he seemed to be seeking a sign that the mare was among the newcomers. When it became obvious that she was nowhere in the vicinity, he became nervous and went off his feed.
Joey himself was uneasy during this period. “I had a hard time with Fury on the way home from school,” he told Jim one afternoon. “He didn’t want to be held down to a canter. All he wanted was to get back to the ranch in a big hurry.”
Jim nodded. “I think you’d better keep him in the barn at night, until he settles down. He might get ideas about breaking away again, as he did last February.”
“Yeah,” said Pete, coming in from the kitchen. “An’ put a padlock on the barn door. He’s a smart critter, but not smart enough to open a padlock with his nose.”
Joey looked out the window toward Fury’s corral. “I’m worried about him. Look at him. He’s just standing there at the fence, staring at the new horses.”
Jim looked out over Joey’s shoulder. “We might as well face the fact that he’ll never be happy until he has that white mare as a companion.”
Joey flushed. “I wish that darn white mare had never been born.”
“Well,” said Jim, “Fury senses that she’s up in the hills somewhere, so it’s a problem we can’t duck. If he doesn’t settle down pretty soon, we’ll have to ride up and look for her.”
“Jim! You mean you’d
