The grins were noticeably broader as Jim rose, crimson with vexation.
"Thought you could sit him, eh?" laughed the sergeant. "Well, you kept
on longer than some I've seen, and you didn't try to hug him around the
neck, either. You're not the first old Billy has played that trick on,
by a long way. You'll make a rider yet! Come along and let us see what
else you can do."
[Sidenote: Enrolled]
As a result of the searching examination Jim underwent he found himself
enrolled as a recruit. He was glad to find that there were among his new
companions others who had fallen victims to Brown Billy's wiles, and who
in consequence thought none the worse of him for his adventure.
Into the work that followed Jim threw himself with all his might. Never
had instructors a more willing pupil, and it was a proud day for Jim
when he was passed out of the training-school as a qualified trooper.
Jim found himself one of an exceedingly small party located apparently a
hundred miles from anywhere. Their nearest neighbours were a tribe of
Indians, whose mixture of childishness and cunning shrewdness made them
an interesting study. These gave little trouble; they had more or less
accepted the fact that the white man was now in possession of the
domains of their forefathers, and that their best course was to behave
themselves. When the presence of the police was required, Jim was almost
amused at the docility with which his directions were generally obeyed.
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