t the pony round.

The pony shied a little as Wallula's Christmas present was strapped to
his back. But at Molly's whispered, "Tam! Tam! be a good boy. We're
going to see Wallula,--to carry her something nice, just as quick as we
can go," the little fellow whinnied softly, as if in response; and the
next moment, at Molly's "Now, Tam," he started forward at his best
pace,--a pace that Molly knew so well, and knew she could trust,--firm
and even and assured, and gaining, gaining, gaining at every step.

"Good boy, good boy!" she said to him as he sped along. But as he began
to hasten his pace, it occurred to her that it was only about half an
hour's easy riding to the reservation, and that after leaving there she
could easily reach the fort in another half-hour,--so easily that there
was no need of hurrying Tam as she was doing; and she pulled him up with
a "Take it easy, Tam dear." As she spoke, Tam flung up his head, pricked
up his ears, and made a sudden plunge forward. What was it? What was the
matter? What had he heard? He had heard what Molly herself heard in the
next instant,--the beat of a horse's hoofs. But the minute it struck
upon Molly's ear she said to herself, "It's Barney; for that's old
Ranger's step, I know." Ranger was an old troop horse of her father's
that Barney often rode. But in vain she tried to rein Tam in. In vain
she said to him, "Wait, wait! It's Ranger and Barney, Tam!"

The pony snorted, as if in scorn, and held on his way. What _was_ the
matter with him? He was usually such a wise little fellow, and always
knew his friends and his enemies. _And he knew them now_! He was wiser
than she was, and he scented on the wind something that spurred him on.

But, hark! What was that whirring, singing sound? Was that a new signal
that Barney was trying? Was it--Whirr, s-st! Down like a shot dropped
Tam's head, and like an arrow he leaped forward, swerving sideways to
escape the danger he had scented,--the danger of a lariat flung by a
practised hand.

Oh, Tam, Tam! fly now with all your speed, your mistress understands at
last. She is a frontier-bred girl. She knows now that it is no friendly
person following her, but some one who means mischief; and that mischief
she has no doubt is the proposed capture of Tam, who is well known for
miles and miles about the country as a wonderful little racer. Yes,
Molly understands at last. She has _seen in the starlight_ the lariat as
it missed Tam's head, and s