As Bob rode toward him, he stood for one defiant moment as motionless as a horse of bronze; then, with a suddenness that gave Curly at the gate barely time to dodge his rush, he leaped forward into the larger arena.
Phil was watching the stranger as the big horse came through the gate.
The man did not move, but his eyes were glowing darkly, his face was flushed, and he was smiling to himself mockingly--as though amused at the thought of what was about to happen to him.

The Dean also was watching Patches, and again the young foreman and his employer exchanged significant glances as Phil turned and went quickly to Little Billy.
Lifting the lad from his saddle and seating him on the fence above the long watering trough, he said, "There's a grandstand seat for you, pardner; don't get down unless you have to, and then get down outside.
See ?" At that moment yells of warning, with a "Look out, Phil!" came from Curly, Bob and the Dean.
A quick look over his shoulder, and Phil saw the big horse with ears wickedly flat, eyes gleaming, and teeth bared, making straight in his direction.

The animal had apparently singled him out as the author of his misfortunes, and proposed to dispose of his arch-enemy at the very outset of the battle.

There was only one sane thing to do, and Phil did it.

A vigorous, scrambling leap placed him beside Little Billy on the top of the fence above the watering trough.
"Good thing I reserved a seat in your grandstand for myself, wasn't it, pardner ?" he smiled down at the boy by his side.
Then Bob's riata fell true, and as the powerful horse plunged and fought that strangling noose Phil came leisurely down from the fence.
"Where was you goin', Phil ?" chuckled the Dean.
"You sure warn't losin' any time," laughed Curly.
And Bob, without taking his eyes from the vicious animal at the end of his taut riata, and working skillfully with his trained cow-horse to foil every wicked plunge and wild leap, grinned with appreciation, as he added, "I'll bet four bits you can't do it again, Phil, without a runnin' start." "I just thought I'd keep Little Billy company for a spell," smiled Phil.
"He looked so sort of lonesome up there." The stranger, at first amazed that they could turn into jest an incident which might so easily have been a tragedy, suddenly laughed aloud--a joyous, ringing laugh that made Phil look at him sharply.
"I beg your pardon, Mr.Acton," said Patches meekly, but with that droll voice which brought a glint of laughter into the foreman's eyes and called forth another chuckle from the Dean.
"You can take my saddle," said Phil pointedly.