 Nobody who has not actually seen a real bucking broncho on the western plains can have any idea of the amount--the number of devils that can be contained inside the skin of one horse. The bucking broncho has no eastern cousins. The mankiller and terror of eastern farms is a toy and household pet compared with the real article and woe be unto the tenderfoot who tries to get astride this bunch of terror from Sheol. The cowboys--those picturesque denizens of the boundless ranges--are fast disappearing. The wire fence and the steam cars have driven them farther and farther from the vast plains and the settlers have cut up the ranges so that their vocation will soon be no more. But they are still the honest, generous, untamed, rough yet tender lords of the saddle. They maintain a supreme contempt for the man who can t ride anything that moves on four legs. A man may win their friendship by being a good shot, by sharing their hardships and perils, but if he can t ride the worst mankiller on the plains he does not get into their inner circle. Periodically the cowboys get together the worst examples of vicious horseflesh in the world and hold tournaments--as the men in Sir Walter Scott s novels--and then the champion of the world is selected. At Sheridan, Wyo., Cheyenne, Wyo., and Denver, Colo., the great championship contests are pulled off. Our photographers were at Sheridan at the last contest and they got a wonderfully good picture of Harry Brennan winning on the worst mankilling horse ever known. The picture shows every buck and twist of the fierce beast who tried to get his rider to the ground that he might stamp and kick him to death in an instant. Once he almost succeeded--the picture shows it. A dozen cowboys were around with lariats ready to lasso the beast should he get Brennan down but they were not needed. The plucky rider finally wore the horse into submission and won the day. A few weeks later he went to Cheyenne and won the championship there. Then he went to Denver and won the preliminary contest at that place and now is entered in the grand contests where he may be called the champion broncho buster of the world. How can you run a moving picture show without this film? It seems incredible that any exhibitor should overlook this. At Cheyenne when it was shown the cowboys almost mobbed the town when they learned it would be exhibited and after they had seen it once they demanded several encores, punctuating their demands with gun arguments. It s a winner.