t you remember hearing about the kid
Ford gave his dog to?"

Too well did they remember, for the story of Bob's call at the ranch had
traveled far and wide.

"What's to be done, then?" asked the first speaker.

"Get him!" growled the others.

So well did these men understand one another that no explanation of this
remark was necessary, and without more ado they hastened to the stable
back of the saloon, ordered their horses, and were soon riding after Bob
at top speed.

Anticipating that he would be chased, the boy had urged Firefly into a
mad gallop, desirous of getting as long a start as possible. And well it
was that he did, for so mettlesome were the horses of the conspirators
that, despite the start the loungers had, they quickly overhauled them.

"Which way did he go?" demanded the ringleader, as he rode alongside.

"To Ford's."

"What's wrong? What did he do? How much did he get?" demanded others of
the volunteer posse.

But the conspirators were not eager to go into detail, and their leader
said:

"This is a private matter. We are obliged to you gentlemen for trying to
stop that boy. But we won't trouble you to ride farther. We are quite
able to attend to this business ourselves."

Such an abrupt dismissal, however, only piqued the curiosity of the
volunteers the more, and noting this the conspirators clapped spurs to
their ponies and soon left them behind.

From time to time, as he raced across the plains, Bob had looked back.
With satisfaction, he noted that he more than held his own with the
pursuers. But when he saw the four men pass the leaders as though the
others were standing still, he urged Firefly to greater speed.

Gamely the pony responded, increasing Bob's lead still more, and the
boy noted from landmarks that he was only about two miles from his
station. Then suddenly Firefly stumbled, hurling Bob over his head.

Picking himself up, the boy, stopping only to ascertain that he himself
was not injured, ran back to his pony. But as he saw the horse his heart
sank.

Firefly had stepped in a prairie-dog hole and broken his leg.

From his moaning Bob realized the pony was in great pain, and for a
moment he stood undecided what to do. Then a hoarse shout of triumph
raised by the conspirators reached his ears, and, gritting his teeth,
Bob pulled out his revolver, placed it against Firefly's head and pulled
the trigger.

Already he had lost precious minutes and, waiting only to make su