experiences.
By this time all Irene's attention was required to bring the car to
some unanimity of direction. It was quite evident that it was running
away. It was quite evident that the horses were running away. The
situation assumed the qualities of a race, and the only matter of grave
doubt related to its termination. Dave, still holding fast to the
reins, ran beside the car with prodigious strides which enabled him to
bring but little restraint upon the team, and Irene held to the
steering wheel with a grip of desperation.

Then they struck the water. It was not more than two feet deep, but
the extra resistance it caused, and the extra alarm it excited in the
horses, resulted in the breaking of the lariat. Dave still clung fast
to his team, and, now that the terrifying rival no longer pursued them,
they were soon brought to a standstill. Having pacified them he tied
them to a post and returned to the stream. The car sat in the middle;
the girl had put her feet on the seat beside her, and the swift water
flowed by a few inches below. She was laughing merrily when Dave, very
wet in parts, appeared on the bank.

"Well, I'm not wet, except for a little splashing," she said, "and you
are. Does anything occur to you?" Without reply he walked stolidly
into the cold water, took her in his arms, and carried her ashore. The
lariat was soon repaired and the car hauled to the ranch buildings
without further mishap.

Later in the day he said to her, "Can you ride?"

"Some," she answered. "I have ridden city horses, but don't know about
these ranch animals. You know, a city horse has to do as he is told,
but a ranch horse seems to do pretty much as he likes. But I would
like to try--if I had a saddle."

"I have an extra saddle," he said. "But it's a man's. . . . They all
ride that way here."

She made no answer, and the subject was dropped for the time. But the
next morning she saw Dave ride away, leading a horse by his side. He
did not return until evening, but when he came the idle horse carried a
saddle.

"It's a strad-legger," he said when he drew up beside Irene, "but it's
a girl's. I couldn't find anythin' else in the whole diggin's."

"I'm sure it will do--splendidly--if I can just stick on," she replied.
But another problem was already in her mind. It apparently had not
occurred to Dave that women require special clothing for riding,
especially if it's a "strad-legger." She opened her lips