inny, a very sociable whinny in fact,
coming from the rear of the covered wagon. Then as the strong white glow
shot forth they made a wonderful discovery.

The dreadful thief was disclosed in all his grim proportions. He stood
there with his stubby tail switching back and forth, and contentedly
munching great mouthfuls of oats which he had managed to secure from the
gaping sack, opening which had doubtless given him all the trouble and
caused those strange grunts.

Yes, they recognized him as soon as the light fell on his sides, and
Jack instead of raising the gun to his shoulder instantly let its muzzle
drop to earth. For it was only gaunt old Moses, the beast of burden,
broken loose, and hunting the fountain head of what he considered his
too meagre meals.

CHAPTER XII

FISHERMAN'S LUCK

"Why, it's only our old Moses after all!" cried Steve, as though the
astounding truth had burst upon him like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.

"And he's trying to founder himself with the whole supply of oats, the
rascal!" Toby added, indignantly.

But Moses was not afraid of foundering, apparently. He just gave another
contented whinny of delight, whisked that impudent stump of a tail of
his, and plunged deeper into the oat sack, which he had succeeded in
getting open.

Jack was perhaps the least surprised of the trio, and even he had not
more than begun to suspect the true state of affairs when the light was
turned on. He doubled up with laughter, for it was really comical to see
how eagerly Moses was delving into his oat supply, as though he feared
he was now about to be divorced from his feast, and retired in disgrace,
wherefore he wished to gobble all he could while the golden opportunity
lasted.

After they had all had several convulsions of merriment Steve concluded
it was time they took things in hand. Such dreadful liberties could not
be allowed, or the offense condoned.

"We've got to make him break away from those oats, that's all there is
about it," he went on to say, seriously. "A poor old nag of a horse
never knows when he's had enough."

"Horses don't happen to be alone in that class, Steve," chirped Toby.

"Never you mind about that," snorted the other; "and it doesn't become
you to give me a dig, Toby, because for a fellow of your size you can go
me one better when it comes to eating. But, Jack, we ought to put a stop
to this midnight feast, hadn't we? Oats cost money, and even horses have
thei