hat had been frightened.

The latter was all of a lather, was blowing hard, and before the horses
reached them, Hiram saw that the runaway was in bad shape.

"Hold on!" he cried to the lout. "Breathe that horse a while. Let him
stand. He ought to be rubbed down, too. Don't you see the shape he is
in?"

"Aw, what's eatin' you?" demanded Pete, eyeing the speaker with much
disfavor.

The horse, when he stopped, was trembling all over. His nostrils were
dilated and as red as blood, and strings of foam were dripping from his
bit.

"Don't let him stand there in the shade," spoke Hiram, more "mildly.
He'll take a chill. Here! let me have him."

He approached the still frightened horse, and Pete jerked the
bridle-rein. The horse started back and snorted.

"Stand 'round there, ye 'tarnal nuisance!" exclaimed Pete.

But Hiram caught the bridle and snatched it from the other fellow's
hand.

"Just let me manage him a minute," said Hiram, leading the horse into
the sunshine.

He patted him, and soothed him, and the horse ceased trembling and his
ears pricked up. Hiram, still keeping the reins in his hand, loosened
the cinches and eased the saddle so that the animal could breathe
better.

There were bunches of dried sage-grass growing by the roadside, and the
young farmer tore off a couple of these bunches and used them to wipe
down the horse's legs. Pretty soon the creature forgot his fright and
looked like a normal horse again.

"If he was mine I'd give him whip a-plenty--till he learned better,"
drawled Pete Dickerson, finally.

"Don't you ever dare touch him with the whip again!" cried the girl,
stamping her foot. "He will not stand it. You were told----"

"Aw, well," said the fellow, "'I didn't think he was going to cut up as
bad as that. These Western horses ain't more'n half broke, anyway."

"I think he is perfectly safe for you to ride now, Miss Bronson," said
Hiram, quietly. "I'll give you a hand up. But walk him home, please."

He had tightened the cinches again. Lettie put her tiny booted foot in
his hand (she wore a very pretty dark green habit) and with perfect ease
the young farmer lifted her into the saddle.

"Good-bye--and thank you again!" she said, softly, giving him her free
hand just as the horse started.

"Say! you're the fellow who's going to live at Atterson's place?"
observed Pete. "I'll see you later," and he waved his hand airily as he
rode off.

"So that's Pete Dickerson, is it?" r