poles which formed the sides of the stall, and laid a resounding
whack upon the pony's flank. There was a flash of heels, a bang on
the shed wall, a plunge forward, and the pony was found clear of
the shed and Kalman senseless on the ground.

"Jimmy, you eternal fool!" cried French, "hold this rope!" He ran
to the boy and picked him up in his arms. "The boy is killed, and
there'll be the very deuce to pay."

He laid the insensible lad on the grass, ran for a pail of water
and dashed a portion of it in his face. In a few moments the boy
opened his eyes with a long deep sigh, and closed them again as if
in contented slumber. French took a flask from his pocket, opened
the boy's mouth, and poured some of its contents between his lips.
At once Kalman began to cough, sat up, and gazed around in a stupid
manner upon the ponies and the men.

"He's out," he said at length, with his eyes upon the pinto.

"Out? Who's out?" cried French.

"Judas priest!" exclaimed Jimmy, using his favourite oath.
"He means the broncho."

"By Jove! he _is_ out, boy," said French, "and you are as near out as
you are likely to be for some time to come. What in great Caesar's
name were you trying to do?"

"He wouldn't move," said the boy simply, "and I hit him."

"Listen here, boy," said Jimmy Green solemnly, "when you go to
hit a broncho again, don't take anything short of a ten-foot pole,
unless you're on top of him."

The boy said nothing in reply, but got up and began to walk about,
still pale and dazed.

"Good stuff, eh, Jimmy?" said French, watching him carefully.

"You bet!" said Jimmy, "genuine clay."

"It is exceptionally lucky that you were standing so near the little
beast," said French to the boy. "Get into the buckboard here, and
sit down."

Kalman climbed in, and from that point of vantage watched the rest
of the hitching process. By skillful manoeuvring the two men led,
backed, shoved the ponies into position, and while one held them
by the heads, the other hitched the traces. Carefully French looked
over all straps and buckles, drew the lines free, and then mounting
the buckboard seat, said quietly, "Stand clear, Jimmy. Let them go."
Which Jimmy promptly did.

For a few moments they stood surprised at their unexpected freedom,
and uncertain what to do with it, then they moved off slowly a few
steps till the push of the buckboard threw them into a sudden terror,
and the fight was on. Plunging, backing, kicking, jibing