wondered.

But at last Mr. Dave went away, and with his going ended good times for
Pasha, at least for many months. There followed strange doings. There
was much excitement among the stable-boys, much riding about, day and
night, by the men of Gray Oaks, and no hunting at all. One day the
stables were cleared of all horses save Pasha.

"Some time, if he is needed badly, you may have Pasha, but not now,"
Miss Lou had said. And then she had hidden her face in his cream-white
mane and sobbed. Just what the trouble was Pasha did not understand, but
he was certain "Mars" Clayton was at the bottom of it.

No longer did Miss Lou ride about the country. Occasionally she galloped
up and down the highway, to the Pointdexters and back, just to let Pasha
stretch his legs. Queer sights Pasha saw on these trips. Sometimes he
would pass many men on horses riding close together in a pack, as the
hounds run when they have the scent. They wore strange clothing, did
these men, and they carried, instead of riding-crops, big shiny knives
that swung at their sides. The sight of them set Pasha's nerves
tingling. He would sniff curiously after them and then prick forward
his ears and dance nervously.

Of course Pasha knew that something unusual was going on, but what it
was he could not guess. There came a time, however, when he found out
all about it. Months had passed when, late one night, a hard-breathing,
foam-splotched, mud-covered horse was ridden into the yard and taken
into the almost deserted stable. Pasha heard the harsh voice of "Mars"
Clayton swearing at the stable-boys. Pasha heard his own name spoken,
and guessed that it was he who was wanted. Next came Miss Lou to the
stable.

"I'm very sorry," he heard "Mars" Clayton say, "but I've got to get out
of this. The Yanks are not more than five miles behind."

"But you'll take good care of him, won't you?" he heard Miss Lou ask
eagerly.

"Oh, yes; of course," replied "Mars" Clayton, carelessly.

A heavy saddle was thrown on Pasha's back, the girths pulled cruelly
tight, and in a moment "Mars" Clayton was on his back. They were barely
clear of Gray Oaks driveway before Pasha felt something he had never
known before. It was as if someone had jabbed a lot of little knives
into his ribs. Roused by pain and fright, Pasha reared in a wild attempt
to unseat this hateful rider. But "Mars" Clayton's knees seemed glued to
Pasha's shoulders. Next Pasha tried to shake him off by sudden l