CHAPTER XIX
A BLESSING IN DISGUISE
ALDEN Payne was in the quandary of his life. Deserted by the unprincipled Bucephalus, he was left with saddle and mail pouches six miles or more from his destination, and still farther from the station behind him. And the worst of it was he did not know the way to either.
It would not have been quite so bad if, when the outrage occurred, he had been on the well-marked trail, for then he could have groped forward, certain of arriving sooner or later at the place he had in mind.
“If I had the chance I’d shoot that confounded ’Ceph!” he exclaimed; “if a horse knew how to grin, how he is grinning over the youngster he fooled! Well, I shan’t bother with you, that’s certain.”
These words were addressed to the saddle, which he flung impatiently to the ground:
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