a crazy creature. Indeed, a less experienced rider
than Bob would have been instantly thrown by the sudden and unexpected
move, something that Domino had never been known to attempt before.

Frank looked up in astonishment. His practiced eye told him in an
instant that the sudden violent dash had not been engineered in the
least by his chum; but was altogether the result of fright on the part
of Domino. Why, the big and powerful black acted as though he had gone
wild, jumping madly about, now fairly flying off to one side, only to
whirl and dance and leap high in the air, until every one within seeing
distance was staring at the strange spectacle. And this, too, in a
town where bucking broncos were a common sight.

Frank had gained his saddle, and was chasing after his friend, but just
then the black had taken a notion to run, and apparently nothing in
that country could overtake him while his present savage mood held out.

"What ails the beast?" Frank asked himself, as he drew rein and watched
the other passing beyond range of his vision among the stunted
mesquites outside of the edge of the town. "He acts like a locoed
horse; but there isn't a bit of the poison weed growing within twenty
miles of here. And why was Peg Grant standing on the stoop of the
tavern grinning as I rode past? Can he have had a hand in this sudden
crazy spell of the black? Spanish Joe knows all the tricks of putting
a thorn under a saddle, that will stab the horse when the rider mounts.
Is that the trouble now? If it is then it's lucky my chum knows as
much as he does about managing a horse, or he would never come back
alive from that mad ride. And all I can do is to sit here, wait for
his return, and watch Peg Grant and his cronies!"

CHAPTER III

OLD HANK COOMBS BEARS A MESSAGE

If there was one thing Bob could do well, it was to ride. Born in
Kentucky, where horses take a leading part in the education of most
boys, Bob had always spent a good part of his time in the saddle.

Hence, when he came out here to the plains, the cowboys of the ranch
found that, in his own way, he was well versed in managing the fine
black horse he brought along with him.

Of course there were dozens of tricks which these daring riders of the
plains could show the tenderfoot from the South; but when it came down
to hard riding Bob was able to hold his own.

When his powerful horse bolted in such a strange fashion Bob simply
kept his seat,