whip. At the same
time Pinkey put all his failing strength on one line. As the roan felt
the tremendous pull on his mouth and the whip-thongs stung his head and
neck, he turned at a sharp angle, dragging his mate. The wheel horses
followed, and some of the stout oak spokes splintered in the wheels as
they jerked the coach over the rail.

The pallid pair exchanged a quick glance of unutterable relief. The
horses were still running but their speed was slackening as Pinkey swung
them in a circle toward the town. Dragging the heavy coach over
sagebrush hummocks and through sand had winded them so that they were
almost ready to quit when they turned down the main street.

"If we'd 'a' hit that culvert we mighta killed off half our dudes. That
woulda been what I call notorious hard luck," Pinkey had just observed,
when Wallie commenced to whip the horses to a run once more.

"What you doin' that for?" He turned in astonishment.

"Let 'em go--I know what I'm about!"

"I think you're crazy, but I'll do what you say till I'm sure," Pinkey
answered as Wallie continued to lay on the lash.

Imperative commands were coming from inside the coach as it tore through
the main street.

"Let me out of this death-trap!" Old Mr. Penrose's bellow of rage was
heard above the chorus of voices demanding that Pinkey stop.

But it was not until they were well on the road to the ranch, and Prouty
was a speck, that the horses were permitted to slow down; then Pinkey
turned and looked at Wallie admiringly.

"You shore got a head on you, old pard! We wouldn't 'a' had a dude left
if we'd let 'em out while they was mad."

"It just occurred to me in time," said Wallie, complacently.

"You don't s'pose any of 'em'll slip out and run back?"

"No, I think we're all right if nothing more happens between here and
the ranch."

After a time Pinkey remarked:

"That lady with the bad heart--she must 'a' been scairt. I'll bet her
lips were purple as a plum, don't you?"

But Wallie, who was far more interested in the probable fact that the
coach as a source of revenue could no longer be counted on than in the
colour of Miss Eyester's lips, mumbled that he didn't know.

CHAPTER XIX

A SHOCK FOR MR. CANBY

The morning following their arrival at The Lolabama, The Happy Family,
looking several shades less happy, began coming from their tents shortly
after daylight. By five o'clock they were all up and dressed, since,
being accustomed to