h out my educated horse," urged Hippy, winking wisely
at the crowd of spectators.

"Why not fetch him out yourself? He isn't my horse," laughed Tom.

"Oh, very well," said Lieutenant Wingate, stepping into the car,
removing the bars and reaching for the pony's headstall. That was the
beginning of what proved to be an exciting time for Lieutenant Wingate
and a most enjoyable entertainment for the villagers. The next act was
when Hippy was catapulted from the car door by the heels of the untamed
bronco and landed in the street. Fortunately for him, Lieutenant
Wingate, instead of jumping back when the pony began to kick, threw
himself towards the animal, a trick that handlers of ugly horses quickly
learn to do. He was thus, instead of being hit by the heels of the
bronco, neatly boosted through the open door of the car.

The villagers howled with delight as the Overland Rider got up and
brushed the dirt from his uniform.

"I have heard it said that incorrigible horses are sometimes made docile
by sprinkling a pinch of salt on their tails," observed Elfreda Briggs
to her companions.

"Remonstrate with the beast, Hippy. He is educated," suggested Emma
Dean.

"Hippy, my darlin', do be careful," begged Nora as her husband limped up
the gangway, jaws set, the light of battle in his eyes, his anger rising
with every step he took.

Hippy clasped the pony's neck, the rat-tat-tat of the animal's heels
against the side of the car being somewhat reminiscent of machine-gun
fire to the Overland girls.

"He'll be killed!" wailed Nora.

"Who? The pony?" asked Emma in an unruffled voice.

"No! What do I care about the pony? It's my Hippy."

A yell from the villagers brought others running to the scene, but no
one offered assistance. Hippy and the bronco were tussling on the
threshold of the car with Hippy's feet in the air most of the time.

"Tickle him in the ribs," suggested a villager. "That'll make him laugh
and he'll fergit to kick."

The villagers howled with delight.

"Tickle him yourself," retorted Nora.

"Jump!" urged Miss Briggs.

"No! Hang on!" shouted Tom Gray. "If you let go he'll kill you! Urge him
down the gangway and I will grab him when he makes the rush."

At that instant the pony leaped. Hippy lost his foothold on the edge of
the doorsill, and the pony, unable to bear the additional weight on its
neck, stumbled and went down on the gangway. The animal's hips struck
the railing, burst through it, an