It was a busy Sunday at the Quarter Circle KT.  Chuck, Charley and Pedro spent the morning and most of the afternoon getting the saddle horses from across the river.  Bert helped Parker and Old Heck about the ranch.  Sing Pete baked a supply of light-bread and stocked the grub-wagon with provisions.  The Ramblin’ Kid volunteered to “ride-line” on the big pasture and see that the Diamond Bar steers had not broken out again.  He rode a sorrel colt—­one that had had its “first-riding” in the circular corral the day before Carolyn June and Ophelia arrived at the Quarter Circle KT.  When he came to the corner of the pasture where the bodies of the cattle, killed by lightning, lay, a flock of buzzards were tearing at the carcasses.  As the gorged creatures flapped heavily into the air the young broncho wheeled, and bucking frantically, jolted away from the gruesome scene.  The Ramblin’ Kid forced the animal to turn about and made him pass, rearing and plunging, among the skinless and already decaying forms.  Before sundown the Ramblin’ Kid was back at the ranch.

In the afternoon Skinny and Carolyn June went for a ride down the valley.  It was her first opportunity to try the new saddle.  Skinny was mounted on Old Pie Face and Carolyn June rode Browny, a dependable old cow-horse.

“Gee,” Carolyn June remarked as they passed the circular corral.  “I’d like to ride the Gold Dust maverick with this outfit!”

“It would be a dandy combination,” Skinny said admiringly, “but I doubt if anybody but th’ Ramblin’ Kid will ever be able to ride the filly.  So far, she acts like she’s going to be a worse one-man horse than Captain Jack is.  She tried to kill me yesterday when I went into the corral!”

“What makes her that way?” Carolyn June asked.

“Blamed if I know,” Skinny replied, “some horses are naturally like that.  Th’ Ramblin’ Kid says it ain’t in the horse—­it’s in the human.  If the human don’t understand the horse the horse won’t trust the human and where there ain’t trust there’s fear and where there’s fear there’s hate.  He’s got some funny ideas!”

“Sounds sort of sensible, though, doesn’t it?” Carolyn June said musingly.

“Maybe it does,” Skinny retorted, “but he goes a little too far with his fool notions sometimes, it seems to me.”

“How is that?” Carolyn June questioned.

“Well, for one thing,” Skinny replied, “he says any man or woman a horse don’t trust ain’t a good man or woman for a human to depend on—­says they ain’t right inside!  It looks to me like that’s a pretty hard slam on people just because some darned idiot of a broncho won’t make up with them!”

Carolyn June leaned back in the saddle and laughed.

“Some ‘range philosopher’—­this Ramblin’ Kid person!” she exclaimed lightly.  “Where did he come from and who is he, anyway?”