e jigged ef your appetite ain't mighty nigh as good as mine," he
remarked, whereupon the roan playfully bit at him. "Don't do that, my
son," protested Mr. Sanders. "Can't you see I've got on my Sunday duds?"

To bridle and saddle the horse was a matter of a few moments only, and
when Mr. Sanders mounted, the spirited horse was so evidently in for a
frolic that he was going at a three-minute gait by the time the rider
had thrown a leg over the saddle.

A horseback ride, when the weather is fine and the sun is shining, is a
very pleasing experience, but it is not to be compared to a ride in the
dark, provided you are on good terms with your horse, and are familiar
with the country. You surrender yourself entirely to the creature's
movements, and if he is a horse equipped with courage, common-sense and
energy, you are lifted entirely out of your everyday life into the
regions of romance and derring-do--whatever that may be. There is no
other feeling like it, no other pleasure to be compared to it; all the
rest smell of the earth.

"I'm sorter glad I lit that match," Mr. Sanders remarked to the horse.
"It's like gittin' a whiff of the Bad Place, an' then breathin' the
fresh air of heav'n." The reply of the roan was a sharp affirmative
snort.

The sun was just rising when Mr. Sanders rode into Halcyondale.
Coincident with his arrival, the train from Atlanta came in with a
tremendous clatter. There was much creaking and clanking as it slowed up
at the modest station. It paused just long enough for the mail-bag and a
trunk to be thrown off with a bang, and then it went puffing away. Short
as the pause had been, one of the passengers, in the person of Colonel
Bolivar Blasengame, had managed to escape from it. The Colonel, with his
valise in his hand, paused to watch the train out of sight, and then
leisurely made his way toward his home. To reach that point, he was
compelled to cross the public square, and as he emerged from the side
street leading to the station, he met Mr. Sanders, who had also been
watching the train.

"Hello, Colonel, how are you? We belong apparently to the early bird
society."

"Good-morning, Mr. Sanders," replied the Colonel, with a smile of
friendly welcome. "What wind has blown you over here?"

"Why, I want to see Major Perdue. You know we have had trouble in our
settlement."

"And you want to see Tomlin because you have had trouble; but why is it,
Mr. Sanders, that your people never think of