“Why, are they so vicious about it?” Bert, who was standing near, had asked.

“Vicious!” exclaimed the cowboy, “why, vicious ain’t no word for it, nohow.  They’re just devils let loose, that’s all.”

It was only a few days after this that, as the boys were seated around the table in the ranch house eating luncheon, in company with their host, one of the cowboys dashed into the room, breathless and red of face.

“Satan an’ the bay are fightin’,” he cried; “somebody must ‘a’ left the gates open an’——­”

But Mr. Melton did not wait to hear any more.  Leaping to his feet he dashed through the door in the direction of the corrals.  The three comrades followed close on his heels.  As they reached the open they could hear shouts and cries and the thudding of hoofs.  Mr. Melton increased his pace, and in a few moments they had reached the scene of action.

And it was a fearsome sight that met their eyes.  The two big stallions, the black and the bay, were both in Satan’s corral, fighting furiously, with a rage and viciousness that words are inadequate to describe.  They circled rapidly about, biting at each other with their long yellow teeth, and lashing out with their hoofs.  Each was quick as a flash of light, but every once in a while a sharp hoof would find its mark, or the deadly teeth would rip into the other’s skin.  Blood flowed freely, but neither seemed to notice the wounds that the other inflicted.  They had longed to decide the question of supremacy ever since the newcomer’s arrival, and now they were determined to settle the matter.

Satan was the stronger of the two, however, and probably in addition possessed a more evil temper than his rival.  Biting, screaming, kicking, he circled about his enemy, his savage heart bent on the destruction of the upstart who had dared to invade his domains.  As Mr. Melton and the boys dashed up, the black horse whirled like lightning and planted both hind hoofs with deadly effect.  The bay horse staggered, but his spirit was still unconquered, and, recovering himself, he rushed for Satan with a ferocity almost as great as his.

“Stop them! separate them!” shouted Mr. Melton; “what are you standing around watching them for?  One or the other of them will be killed soon, if we don’t do something.”

It was but a few moments since the horses had started fighting, although it had seemed much longer.  At first the cowboys had seemed in a sort of stupor, so suddenly had the thing happened, but at Mr. Melton’s words they sprang into activity.  Some of them ran to get pitchforks, while others secured lariats from their saddles and hurried back to the scene of battle.

The bay horse was now getting much the worst of it, and it became evident that if the two infuriated animals were not separated soon the later arrival would either be killed or else so badly hurt that he would have to be shot eventually.

Some of the cowboys rushed into the corral and with shouts and cries endeavored to separate the combatants.  The stallions took not the slightest notice of them, however, except to lash out savagely at them whenever they came within striking distance.