hearing distance, and at once
expressed a willingness to lend his animal to Mr. Peabody.

"That will be better than perishing on the prairies," said Tom
cheerfully.

"I am not much used to riding," said Peabody cautiously.

"He won't run away with you, Peabody," said the owner. "He's too lazy."

Lawrence Peabody was already aware of this fact, and it gave him courage
to accept the offered help. He mounted Solomon--as the donkey was
called, for some unknown reason--and for a time enjoyed the relief from
the toil of walking. He became quite cheerful, and was disposed to
congratulate himself upon his success, when an unfortunate fit of
obstinacy came over Solomon. It dawned upon the sagacious animal that it
would be much easier to travel without a load, and, turning his head, he
looked thoughtfully at his rider.

"Get up, Solomon!" exclaimed Peabody, striking the animal on the haunch.

Solomon felt that this was taking a personal liberty and he stood
stock-still, his face expressive of obstinacy.

"Why don't he go on?" asked Peabody, perplexed.

"He's stopping to rest," said Tom. "I am afraid he is lazy."

"Go along!" exclaimed Peabody, again using his whip. But the animal did
not budge.

"This is really very provoking," murmured the rider. "What shall I do?"

"Don't give up to him," advised one of the company. "Here, let me whip
him."

"Thank you; I wish you would."

It was an unlucky speech. The other complied with the request, and
delivered his blow with such emphasis that Solomon's equanimity was
seriously disturbed. He dashed forward with what speed he could command,
Mr. Peabody holding on, in a sort of panic, till he was a hundred yards
away. Then he stopped suddenly, lowering his head, and his hapless rider
was thrown over it, landing some distance in advance. Solomon looked at
him with grim humor, if a donkey is capable of such a feeling, and,
apparently satisfied, turned and walked complacently back to the
wagon-train.

Several of the company, witnessing the accident, hurried forward to Mr.
Peabody's assistance. They picked him up, groaning and bewildered, but
not much hurt.

"None of your limbs broken," said Miles. "I guess you'll do."

"I'm badly shaken up," moaned Peabody.

"It will do you good," said Miles bluntly.

"You had better try it yourself, then," retorted Peabody, with unwonted
spirit.

"Good for you!" laughed Miles. "I suspect you are not dead yet."

"What made you put me on