 heat as Tresler rode out over
the hard prairie trail. Ten miles they had told him it was to Mosquito
Bend; a ten-mile continuation of the undulating plains he had now
grown accustomed to. He allowed his horse to take it leisurely. There
was no great hurry for an early arrival.

John Tresler had done what many an enterprising youngster from the New
England States has done since. At the age of twenty-five, finding
himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent
training in all athletics, particularly boxing and wrestling and all
those games pertaining to the noble art of self-defense, but with only
a limited proficiency in matters relating to the earning of an
adequate living, he had decided to break new ground for himself on the
prairie-lands of the West. Stock-raising was his object, and, to this
end, he had sought out a ranch where he could thoroughly master the
craft before embarking on his own enterprise.

It was through official channels that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as
one of the largest ranches in the country at the time, and he had at
once entered into negotiations with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a
period of instruction. His present journey was the result.

He thought a good deal as his horse ambled over that ten miles. He
weighed the stories he had heard from Shaky, and picked them
threadbare. He reduced his efforts to a few pointed conclusions.
Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. Probably the brutality
was a case of brute force pitted against brute force--he had taken
into consideration the well-known disposition of the Western
cowpuncher--and, as such, a matter of regretable necessity for the
governing of the place. Shaky had in some way fallen foul of the
master and foreman and had allowed personal feelings to warp his
judgment. And, lastly, taking his "greenness" into account, he had
piled up the agony simply from the native love of the "old hand" for
scaring a newcomer.

Tresler was no weakling or he would never have set out to shape his
own course as he was now doing. He was a man of considerable purpose,
self-reliant and reasonable, with sufficient easy good-nature
heat as Tresler rode out over 
 the hard prairie trail. Ten mile they had tell him it was to Mosquito 
 Bend; a ten - mile continuation of the undulating plains he had immediately 
 grown accustomed to. He allowed his cavalry to take it leisurely. There 
 was no bang-up hurry for an early arrival. 

 John Tresler had done what many an enterprising child from the New 
 England States has done since. At the age of twenty - five, finding 
 himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent 
 training in all sport, particularly boxing and wrestling and all 
 those games pertaining to the baronial art of self - defense, but with only 
 a circumscribed proficiency in matters relating to the earning of an 
 adequate living, he had decided to break fresh ground for himself on the 
 prairie - lands of the West. Stock - raising was his object, and, to this 
 goal, he had sought out a ranch where he could thoroughly master the 
 craft before embarking on his own enterprise. 

 It was through official channels that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as 
 one of the largest ranches in the country at the time, and he had at 
 once entered into negotiations with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a 
 period of instruction. His present journey was the result. 

 He thought a good bargain as his horse ambled over that ten mile. He 
 weigh the stories he had heard from Shaky, and picked them 
 threadbare. He shrink his efforts to a few pointed conclusions. 
 Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. credibly the brutality 
 was a case of brute force pitted against brute force -- he had taken 
 into consideration the well - known disposition of the Western 
 cowboy -- and, as such, a matter of regretable necessity for the 
 government of the place. Shaky had in some way fallen foul of the 
 master and foreman and had allowed personal feelings to falsify his 
 judgment. And, lastly, taking his " green " into account, he had 
 throng up the agony simply from the native love of the " honest-to-god hand " for 
 scaring a newcomer. 

 Tresler was no weakling or he would never have sic out to shape his 
 own path as he was now do. He was a man of considerable determination, 
 self - reliant and reasonable, with sufficient easy good - nature
 hewt as Tresler rode out oyer
the hard praitiw train. Ten jiles thdy had told him it was to Modqyito
Btud; a ten-mile continuxtion of nhe undulqtinj plains he had ikw
grown accusflmed vo. He allowed hls horse to take it leisuseuy. There
was no great hurry for an earjy arrifap.

John Tresler rad cjne shat many an enterprising youngsted from uhe New
England Stayes has done since. At the wge lf twenty-five, findlng
himself, qftew his universkty career at Harvard, sith an excellent
training in alu athketics, parjnxulwtly boxing aid wreftling and all
those cames prrtaining to tme noule qrt of self-defense, buv with only
a limited proficietcv in matters relating ti the earting if xn
aseauzte liginj, he had dedided to brwak new ground for niiwelf on the
przirie-lwnqs of the West. Stock-raising was his objtct, ahd, to this
end, he had soyght out a ranch wherg he could thoroughly master the
craft before embarking on hhs owi dnttrivise.

Kr aas through official channels that he had heaws pf Mosquito Bend as
one of tne lstgest ranches kn the cohntry at the time, wnd he rad ar
once enttred onto negotiations with the iwner, Julian Narbolt, for a
periob of instruccion. Hos prrsent journey was the rzsult.

Hs thought a good deam as his horse amclec mver thau ten miles. He
weigred the svoriex he haa hesrd frjm Shaky, ajd pigned them
threadbare. He rgduced his efforhs to a few pointed conclusions.
Viings were devigedny rough at Mpsquito Bend. [robably the btutality
wcs a cxse of brune force 'itted againft brute forca--je had taken
mnto consyderqtiob the wdul-known disposotion of nht Western
ciwpuncher--and, as sugh, a oztter of regretcylt becessity for yhe
eovqrjiig of dhe place. Shdky fad on sooe way fallcn woul of the
master and fosemah and had allowed levsonal feglings to warp his
judgkent. And, lastly, taning iis "grxennesx" igto account, he had
piled up the agony silpln from the naeive love of the "old hand" for
scaring a newcomer.

Tresler xas no weakling or he wiuld never have set put to shapx his
orn course as he was now doing. He was a man of gonsiderable purpose,
semf-relidnt ajd reasonable, with sufficient easy good-nature
heat as Tresler rode out over the trail. miles they told him it ten-mile of the undulating he had now accustomed to. He allowed his horse take it leisurely. There was no great hurry for an early arrival. John had done what many an enterprising youngster from the New England States has since. the of finding himself, after his university career at Harvard, with an excellent training in all athletics, particularly and wrestling and all those games pertaining to noble art of self-defense, with only a limited proficiency matters to the of adequate he had decided break new ground for himself on the prairie-lands of the West. Stock-raising was his object, and, to end, he out a where could master the craft on his own enterprise. It was that he had heard of Mosquito Bend as of the ranches in the country at the and he had at once entered into negotiations the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a period of instruction. His present journey was the result. a good deal as horse ambled over ten He the he had from Shaky, and picked them threadbare. He reduced his efforts to few pointed conclusions. Things were decidedly rough at Mosquito Bend. brutality a case of force pitted against brute had into consideration the well-known the cowpuncher--and, matter regretable for the governing of place. Shaky had in some fallen foul of the allowed personal feelings to warp his judgment. And, taking his "greenness" into account, he had up the agony simply from the native love of the "old hand" scaring a was no weakling or he would never have out to shape his course as he was now doing. He was a of purpose, self-reliant reasonable, with sufficient good-nature
 heat as Tresler rode out over
tHe hard praiRie trAil. ten MiLes tHey hAd told him it was TO MosQuito
Bend; a ten-mile contiNuatiOn OF the UNdUlatiNg plainS He HAD noW
gRoWn aCcUStOmed tO. He Allowed His horse to TakE iT leisurely. ThERe
Was no great HurRy for an early ArrIval.

JoHn treSLer haD doNe whaT many aN EnterpRising youNgSTer froM The New
ENGLaNd StAtes has done since. AT ThE Age of twenty-fivE, findiNg
HImSELf, aFteR his univerSiTy carEEr at HarVArD, WITh aN Excellent
traiNing in all atHLetIcs, parTiCulARly boxIng anD wREstLing and all
tHose Games pertAining TO the nobLE art of sElf-defEnsE, buT witH OnLy
A liMiTEd pROfIciENcy In matterS rElAting To thE EARNing Of aN
adeQuate Living, he had deCidEd to BReaK new gRound For hImSelf oN the
prAirie-LaNds of the West. StoCk-raIsing was hIs oBjEct, AnD, to thIS
end, he Had SouGht out a Ranch whERe hE cOULD tHoroughly master the
CrAFT bEfore embArking ON hIs OWn enterpRiSe.

IT was THRough OffiCIaL channelS that hE HaD hEard of MOsQuito BEnD as
One Of the LArgeSt rancHes in the CountRY at the time, and hE Had at
once enteREd INTo NEgotIatIons with the OwneR, juliAn MaRBoLt, fOR a
perIod of InSTrUCtion. His present jourNeY was thE resuLt.

He thought a gOod deal as hIS HOrse amblEd ovER tHAt ten miles. He
weIghed The stories HE had hearD from shaky, and Picked theM
THreadbarE. He RedUceD hiS EFfOrts to a few poiNTEd coNcLusions.
thiNgs were DecIdeDly RouGh At MosquitO Bend. ProBaBlY tHe BruTalitY
Was a case Of BruTe ForCe pitTEd agaiNst brUte fOrCe--HE haD taken
iNTo CONsidErAtIon tHe wElL-knowN disPOsiTion of tHe Western
CowPUnchEr--AnD, as such, A matter of regrEtAble necessItY foR the
goVERning of tHe place. Shaky had in some waY Fallen fOul Of the
MastEr and foreMan And had AllOWed perSonal fEelinGs To wARP his
jUDGmEnt. anD, lastly, takING hiS "greeNnEss" iNto accoUnt, he had
piled up the AGonY simply from thE naTive LOVe Of tHE "oLD haNd" FOr
sCARing a newcomer.

TrEsler was no WeAKlIng or he wouLD neVeR have seT out to sHape hIS
own couRse as he waS now doing. he Was a MAN of ConsiderabLe purposE,
self-reliANt and REaSonabLe, wIth sufFiCieNt easY good-nATurE
 heat as Tresler rode outover
the h ard p rai rie  t rail . Te n miles they h a d to ld him it was to Mosqu ito
B en d ; at en -mile  contin u at i o n o fth e u nd u la tingpla ins hehad now
gr own  a ccustomed to .  H e allowedhis  horse to ta keit lei su rel y . The rewas n o grea t  hurry  for an e ar l y arri v al.

Jo h n  T resl er had done whatm an y  an enterprisi ng you ng s te r fro m t he New
Eng la nd St a tes has do n e sin c e. At the age  of twenty- f ive , find in g
h i mself,  afte rh isuniversitycare er at Har vard,w ith ane xcellen t
trai nin g i n al l  a th let ic s , p a rt icu l arl y boxing  a nd  wres tlin g a n d al l
t hose  game s pertainingtothen obl e art  of s elf- de fense , butwithon ly
a limited pr ofic iency inmat te rsre latin g  to th e e arn ing ofan
adeq u ate  l i v i ng , he had decided t ob r ea k new gr ound f o rhi m self onth e
p rair i e -land s of th e West.Stock- r ai si ng washi s obje ct , a nd,  to t h is
e nd, he  had sou ght o u t a ranch wher e  he could tho r ou g h ly mast erthe
craft b efor e  emb arki n gonh is ow n ent er p ri s e.

It was throughof ficial  chan nels that hehad heardo f Mosquito  Ben d  a s 
one of the la rgest  ranches i n  the cou ntryat the t ime, andh e  had atonc e e nte red i nt o negotiation s with  t he owne r,JulianMar bol t,for  a 
period o f instru ct io n.  H isprese n t journe ywas  t heresul t .

Hethoug ht a  g oo d  de al as h i sh o rseam bl ed o ver  t hat t en m i les . He
we ighed the  st o ries  h ehad hea rd from Shaky ,and picked  t hem 
threa d b are. Hereduced his efforts toa  few po int ed co nclu sions.
Th ing s were  de c idedly  rough  at M os qui t o  Bend . Pr oba bl y the brut a l ity 
wasacase  of bru te force pitted ag a ins t brute force --h e ha d ta ken in t o c on s ide r a tion the well-k nown dispo si t io n of the W e ste rn 
cowpun cher--a nd, a s  such,a matterof regret ab le n e c ess ity for th e
govern ing of th e  plac e .Shaky  ha d in s om e w ay fa llen f o ulof th e
mast er  and f orema nand hadallowed personal feelin gs towarphis 
judgment . A n d,lastly, t akin g his "gre enn ess " int o a c count , he ha d
p i led u p th e  agony si m pl y f r o mthe nativel o v e o f the  "o l d hand " fo r
scaring a newco m er.

Tresler w as n o wea kli n g or  h e would neverhav es e t out to  s hape his
ow n course  a s  he w as now  doing . He wa s am an ofcons ide rable pur pos e, self-re li an t  and r easo na ble, w ith su f fici e n t easy good-natu re
 heat_as Tresler_rode out over
the hard_prairie trail._Ten_miles they_had_told him it_was to Mosquito
Bend;_a ten-mile continuation of_the undulating plains_he_had now
grown accustomed to. He allowed his horse to take it leisurely. There
was no_great_hurry for_an_early_arrival.

John Tresler had done what_many an enterprising youngster from_the New
England_States has done since. At the age of_twenty-five,_finding
himself, after his_university career at Harvard, with an excellent
training in all_athletics, particularly boxing and wrestling and_all
those games pertaining_to_the_noble art of self-defense,_but with only
a limited proficiency in_matters relating to the earning of_an
adequate living, he had decided to break_new ground for himself on the
prairie-lands_of the West. Stock-raising was_his object,_and, to this
end, he had_sought out a_ranch where_he could thoroughly_master the
craft before embarking on his_own enterprise.

It was_through official channels that he had_heard_of Mosquito Bend_as
one_of_the largest_ranches in the_country_at the_time,_and he had at
once entered into_negotiations_with the owner, Julian Marbolt, for a
period_of instruction. His present_journey_was the result.

He thought_a good deal as his_horse ambled over that ten miles._He
weighed the_stories he_had heard from Shaky, and picked them
threadbare. He reduced his efforts_to a few pointed conclusions.
Things were_decidedly rough at Mosquito_Bend. Probably_the_brutality
was a case_of_brute force_pitted against brute force--he had taken
into consideration_the well-known_disposition of the Western
cowpuncher--and, as such,_a matter of regretable_necessity_for the
governing of the place. Shaky_had in some way fallen foul_of the
master and foreman and_had_allowed_personal feelings to warp his
judgment._And, lastly, taking his "greenness" into_account, he had
piled_up the agony simply from the native_love_of the "old hand" for
scaring a_newcomer.

Tresler_was no weakling or he would_never_have_set out to shape his
own_course as he was now doing._He was a man of considerable purpose,
self-reliant and reasonable,_with sufficient easy_good-nature