ad of the young military bicyclist now appeared a plain fence, some
four feet high. Hal Overton rode at this with all the speed his flying
feet could impart to the pedals. He appeared bent on violent collision
with the fence.

Indeed, he rode at the palings as though he could not stop. Yet, when
almost in the act of collision, Sergeant Hal made a flying leap from his
wheel, which he tossed over the fence. In two incredibly swift movements
he was over the fence. His wheel hardly seemed to have fallen at all, so
swiftly did the young sergeant have it going again. He made a flying
leap to the saddle, and was again pedaling desperately, while five or
six shots to the rear filled out the illusion of a dispatch bearer being
pursued by enemies.

That trick at the fence instantly took hold of the younger male portion
of the audience. Denver boys saw wherein young soldiers were taught
things about bicycle riding that were not known among civilians.

Hardly was Sergeant Hal going at full speed again when another obstacle
loomed up in his way. This was an intrenchment front, sloping as he
approached it, but with a sheer drop of some three feet on the other
side.

Straight up the slope dashed Hal Overton. For a fraction of a second, as
he left the top of the barrier, his wheel looked more like an odd
airship, but now the forward wheel struck the ground beyond once more,
the rear wheel swiftly following, and the dispatch rider was going
onward faster than ever.

The small boys now led in the noise that came from the spectators'
seats.

Just ahead lay the greatest peril of the path for the military dispatch
rider. Here, in the hill scene, had been cut an actual gully, some
eighteen feet deep, and fully twelve feet across.

Just a few minutes before a squad of soldiers had placed across this
gully the trunk of a tree, shorn of its limbs and trimmed down close.

As Sergeant Hal now approached this tree trunk, which was not, at its
thickest part, more than a foot in diameter, his purpose dawned upon the
watching thousands.

This tree trunk represented the only possible way of getting over the
gully.

Surely, the young rider would slow down, dismount, take the wheel on his
shoulders and cross the slim bridge on foot.

But the crackling out of more shots behind him told the onlookers that
the young dispatch rider in Uncle Sam's khaki uniform must make great
haste.

Hal lay on harder than ever on his pedals. His speed carri