road.

All got out of the way but a three-year-old, forgotten in the
excitement. Upon this small lad, fallen flat in the road, bore the
powerful man and horse. Then there were frantic cries of warning.
Fifty feet between the youngster and those mangling
hoofs--twenty--five! the crowd gasped--they were blotted together!
Not so. A mighty hand had snatched the boy away in that instant of
time. He was safe and very indignant in a howling, huddled heap in
the ditch by the roadside, but alas, for horse and rider! The
buckskin was not used to such feats, and when Red's weight was
thrown to the side for the reach he missed his stride, struck his
feet together, and down they went, while the foot-deep dust sprang
into the air like an explosion.

Miss Mattie rushed to the scene of the accident, followed by
everybody. Young Lettis, equally frightened, was close beside her.

"Oh, Will! Are you killed?" she cried.

And then a voice devoid of any signs of weakness, but loaded to the
breaking point with wrath, told in such language as had never been
heard in Fairfield that the owner was still much alive.

"Run away, Mattie! Run away and let me cuss!" shrieked Red. Miss
Mattie collapsed into the arms of Lettis.

The dust settled enough so that the anxious villagers could see
horse and man; the former resting easily, as if he had had enough
athletics for one day, and the latter sitting in the road. Neither
showed any intention of rising.

"What's the matter, Mr. Saunders, are you hurt?" inquired the fussy
post-mistress.

"Please go 'way, ma'am," said Red, waving his arm.

"I'm sure you're hurt--I'm perfectly sure you're hurt," she
persisted, holding her ground. "Now, do tell us what can possibly
be the matter with you?"

"Very well," returned the exasperated cow-puncher, "I will. My
pants, ma'am, have suffered in this turn-up, and they're now in a
condition to make my appearance in polite society difficult, if not
impossible; now please go 'way and somebody fetch me a horse
blanket."

It is regrettable that the discomfiture of the post-mistress was
received with undisguised hilarity. The blanket was produced, and
Red stalked off in Indian dignity, marred by a limp in his left
leg, for he had come upon Mother Earth with a force which made
itself felt through all that foot of soft dust.

"Bring that durn-fool horse along," he called over his shoulder.
Buckskin rose and followed his owner. There was no light i