quite won their youthful hearts by
his genial ways.

Frank was the last one to meet with an adventure on this occasion, which
was fated to be written down in his logbook as worthy of remembrance.

He had been out riding, and his horse, stepping into a gopher hole,
threw him. Frank was not seriously hurt, but the horse went lame, so
that he could not be ridden. As this happened miles away from the house,
and night was coming on, with a storm threatening, Frank knew he was in
for an experience; but even then he did not dream of all that was down
on the bills for that special occasion.

Through the darkness he went, leading his limping horse. Then the storm
broke, and the crash of thunder, as well as the vivid lightning, was
something such as he could not remember ever meeting before.

He was just thinking that the pony had recovered enough to enable him to
mount and make his way slowly along, as the ranch house was not more
than a mile off, when something came to his ears that arrested his
attention. For half a minute he wondered what it might be, sounding like
increasing thunder. Then the appalling truth flashed upon him. There was
a stampede of cattle, and he seemed to be directly in the way of the
madly galloping herd!

CHAPTER XXIV

A MYSTERY SOLVED

Frank, after that one spasm of alarm, gritted his teeth, and thought
fast. He had heard the rancher, as well as the cowboys, speak of the
terrors of the stampede, when the cattle were in a frenzy, through fear,
and utterly beyond all management.

He knew that frequently experienced cowmen, caught in the rush of a
thousand lumbering steers, had been ground to death under countless
hoofs. It was so in the old days, when bison dotted the plains of the
great West.

Mounted on a good horse, one might hope to ride clear of the advancing
avalanche of hoofs and horns. But his steed was lame, and hardly able to
limp along. The situation was one calculated to arouse a boy as he had
never been awakened before in all his life.

Frank jumped upon the back of his horse. He knew instantly that his one
hope must lie in getting clear of the immense herd; and that this could
only be done by either riding faster than they were going down the wide
valley, or in making for the nearest hillside, where trees would offer
him a refuge.

He chose the latter. Flight in a straightaway course was utterly out of
the question with a cripple between his knees.

"Get up, Hector!