llowed, Jacqueline did not
know whether she had been unconscious a second or an age when she was
aroused by a peculiar noise which she was familiar with. It was a
horse's terrible cry of pain. She tried to sit up. Jean and Frank Kent
had dismounted hurriedly and come over to her, while Harry Pryor was
trying to get Hotspur out of the gully.

"I am afraid you will have to help me, Frank, if Miss Ralston isn't
hurt; I am afraid Hotspur has broken his leg."

Jacqueline gave a little cry and Jean covered her cousin's eyes with her
hands. There was a pain in Jack's shoulder that was wrenching and
tearing at her, but it was nothing to the feeling that Harry's words
created.

"It can't be true," she sobbed. "I couldn't have hurt my pony like
that."

But it was true, for Harry and Frank had Hotspur on the level ground and
the little pony lay moaning and neighing pitifully. There was only
moonlight to show what had happened, but Jack flung herself down beside
him and her tears fell in his shaggy mane. "What can we do?" she begged.
"Doesn't any one know how to set a pony's leg?"

Harry shook his head. "You know it's hopeless, Jack. There is but one
thing to do for Hotspur. I can ride back to the ranch for help, but it
would only prolong his pain."

"You mean you must shoot him, don't you, Harry?" Jack asked.

Jean and Frank both turned away their heads. Even in the moonlight, they
could see that Jack's face was ghastly white and her lips almost blue.
Only Jean knew how much Jacqueline cared for her pony; he had been her
father's gift and for the past three years Jack had hardly ever ridden
any other horse, unless Hotspur were too weary to carry her. The thought
that her own heedlessness and obstinacy had brought the disaster only
made it the harder to bear.

Harry nodded. "It's the only way, Jack, you know."

"All right," Jack answered briefly. "Be quick."

Jean's tears were blinding her but Jack looked straight ahead.

"Take the girls toward home with you, Frank," Harry suggested. "I'll
come afterwards."

"I would rather wait until it is over," Jack begged. "It is my fault
that this has happened and I won't go away like a coward, Hotspur would
like to hear my voice until the end." Jack felt her eyes burn and her
throat swell as now and then she patted the quivering broncho.

Jean led her cousin a short distance off, but Jack's eyes never left her
pony. She saw Harry get out his pistol, load it and point straight