of the stricken rider grasped in his left hand and the reins held loosely in his right, he noticed several things. He knew he was twenty or thirty pounds heavier than Dick Lightfoot. The saddle, although of the same kind as his own, still felt a little different. The stirrup straps were an inch or two shorter than those to which he was accustomed, but he decided to waste no time in shifting the buckles. The rifle was lighter than his weapon, for we know those men sacrificed everything possible to gain lightness. If an anxious correspondent offered a big price to the carrier to accept a thin missive after the pouch had been made up, he was refused and obliged to wait for the next messenger.
The riders of course used spurs though they were not often necessary. The animal knew what was expected of him and gave it willingly. Covered with foam and dust, with his sides heaving, he thundered up to the station where rest was awaiting him, after which he was ready to bound away on the wings of the wind again. Often his master passed through the most frightful perils without shouting a a command to his pony. A pressure of the knee, the gentlest pull on the rein, or perhaps
