"Lookin' for any one?" inquired a tall cowboy, who appeared from under the shed. He had small, black shifty eyes, and when he spoke he looked anywhere but at one.
"Where's Mr.—er—Mr. Rattlesnake Jim?" asked Nat. He was not exactly sure how to address, or speak of the cowboys with their queer titles.
"Jim? Oh, he's gone over on the Spring range. Was you wantin' anything?"
"Only some horses," said Nat.
"Oh, you're the boys," spoke the man. "Did Mr. Kent say you are to have 'em?"
"Uncle Morris said Jim would give us horses to ride," Nat went on.
"Well, I guess I can pick 'em out for you," the man said. "One of you boys named Ranger?"
"I am," said Jack,
"Oh, yes, you're a friend of the old man who was shot," went on the cowboy as he entered the stable. "Well, I'll pick out horses I think'll suit."
He disappeared into the regions of the stalls, and soon came out, leading a fine black horse. He threw a saddle over its back. The animal seemed a bit restive.