Don't
it, Old Gravity?"

CHAPTER XVI

PAT TURNS THIEF

A week passed before Pat knew of his change in masters. But that was not
strange. Busily engaged in keeping himself alive on scant herbage, he
took but little interest in anything else. Besides, his young friend
continued to make much of him, talking in soothing tones and gently
stroking his sides, and the little gray, holding herself faithfully
near, also maintained quiet evidence of friendliness. So he had no
reason to suspect change. But one morning, with camp broken, and
saddle-bags flung out, and the window sealed over, and the door shut and
barred, and the other horses bridled and saddled, there came to him in
the person of the large man himself--a person he had instinctively
disliked--the first sign of the change in his fortune.

The man approached, bridle on arm, to remove his hobbles. He remained
motionless under this, and prepared also to accept the bridle quietly.
But in bridling him the man was rough to an extent he had never before
known--forcing an oddly shaped bit against his tongue, and twisting and
turning his sensitive ears as if these delicate organs were so much
refractory leather or metal. Then came the saddle, and with it further
torture. The forward belt was made snug, which he was accustomed to and
expected; but when the rear girdle was cinched so tight that he found
difficulty in breathing, he became nervous and wanted to protest. It was
all very unusual, this rough handling, and he did not understand it. The
effect of the tight cinch was peculiar, too. With the knot tied firmly,
he felt girded as for some great undertaking, his whole nervous system
seemed to center in his stomach, and all his wonted freedom and buoyancy
seemed compressed and smothered. With all this, and the man in the
saddle and spurring viciously, he realized grimly the change in masters.

They set out at a fox-trot, continuing their southwesterly direction. It
was an unmarked course from the beginning, leading them steadily down
into the Mogollon range, and, as before, Johnson was occupying the lead,
with Jim next behind, and Glover bringing up the rear. And, as on the
first leg of the journey, all rode in silence.

So Pat was in the lead, and while he found his new master half as heavy
again as the other, he also found compensation for the increased weight
in the position which he occupied. Not that he was proud to be in the
lead; nothing from the beginni