ad
parted. What could that mean?

He reached the clump of trees where Bonnie Bird should have been. The
mare was gone!

"Broken away!" he groaned. "Was ever such luck before! Everything is
going wrong tonight! Poor father; poor Pawnee Brown! I must leg it to
camp just as Pumpkin is doing. Hullo!"

He had started to run, but now he pulled up short. Grazing in the wet
grass not a dozen steps away was a bay horse, full and round, a perfect
beast. At first Dick Arbuckle thought he must be dreaming. He ran up
rubbing his eyes. No, it was no dream; the horse was as real as a horse
could be. He was bridled, but instead of a saddle wore only a patch of a
blanket.

"It's a Godsend," he murmured. "I don't know whom you belong to, old
boy, but you've got to carry me back to camp, and that, too, at a
licking gait, you understand?"

The horse pricked up his ears and gave a snort. In a trice Dick was on
his back and urging him around in the proper direction. He was a New
York boy, not much used to riding, and the management of such a beast as
this one did not come easy. The horse arose upon his forelegs and
nearly pitched Dick over his head, and the youth had to cling fast
around his neck to save himself a lot of broken bones.

"Whoa, there! Gee Christopher, what a tartar! Whoa, I say! If only I had
a whip!" he panted, as the horse began to move around on a pivot. "Now,
why can't you act nice, when I'm in such dire need of your services? If
you don't stop--Whoa! whoa!"

For the horse had suddenly stopped pivoting and started off like a
streak, not up or down the trail, but across a stretch of prairie grass.
On and on he went, the bit between his teeth and gaining speed at every
step. In vain Dick yelled at him, kicked him and banged him on the head.
It was of no use, and he had to cling on for dear life.

"I might as well let him go and jump for it," he thought at last, when
nearly a mile had been covered. "It's just as useless to try to stop him
as it would be to stop a limited express. If I jump off--but I won't,
now!"

For the prairie had been left behind, and the bay was tearing along a
rocky trail leading to goodness knew where, so Dick thought. A jump now
would mean broken bones, perhaps death. He clung tighter than ever, and
tried to calm the horse by speaking gently to him.

At first the beast would not listen, but finally, when several miles had
been covered he slackened up, and at last dropped into a walk. He w