As the last beautiful line died away the cow-punchers noticed a heavy step on the greensward close at hand, and looking up, to their unspeakable amazement they beheld old Manito, Big Bill's faithful horse. How he had got out of the corral and what strange instinct had drawn him to the big cottonwood were equally inexplicable. But there he stood close to his master's casket looking down with a wistful gaze at the face of his master under the glass.
As Pony glanced over at the faithful horse, a great lump filled his throat.
"For heaven's sake, somebody take him away," choked Pony, "I can't preach with him standing there."
There was a long silence but no one started to do Pony's bidding. Finally Long Tom spoke up and everyone echoed in his heart the cow-puncher's sentiments.
"Pony," he said, "I guess he has the best right of anybody here. You jest draw in your belt and take a grip on yourself and go ahead."
So with a great effort Pony proceeded with the services, bowing his head in prayer.
"Dear Heavenly Father," he began, "we all knows that we ain't fit to call You Father, sech sinners as we be, but somehow we expect you to make allowances for all our shortcomings and to call us Your sons.
