m
stunned. He was unconscious for several minutes, but when he came to
himself, Kit was standing over him, nosing him with her soft muzzle as
though to bring him round. Weakly he staggered to his feet, and seeing
Kit standing patiently, managed to clamber into the saddle.

The pony started immediately at an easy canter, crossing the valley and
meeting the herd where the road ran into the level. The cattle were
tired from the run, and sick and bruised as he was, Wilbur headed them
off and rounded them up, being aided presently by Rodgers and Grier, who
had found themselves unable to cut into the stampeding herd, and
consequently had waited until the whole herd got by, when they had
ridden back along the trail a little distance, got down to the creek by
a bridle path, and crossed the valley by a short cut.

In the distance Baldy could be seen grazing, and Wilbur lightly touched
Kit with the spur to find out what had happened. The bay, as soon as he
had stopped running, evidently had bucked off his two riders, who were
still sitting on the ground, apparently dazed. The man, who was
evidently an Eastern tourist, was pale as ashes and dumb with fright,
and could tell nothing. The boy knew no more than, "He had to let go, he
had to let go."

Together with Grier, Wilbur started back along the road to look for what
might be left of Merritt. The foreman tried to persuade the lad to stay,
for he was bleeding from a scalp wound and his left wrist was sorely
twisted, if not actually sprained, but Wilbur replied that he had said
he was going back to look for Merritt, and go back he would if both arms
and legs were broken. Kit, although very much blown, was willing to be
taken up the road at a fair gallop, when, just as they turned a corner,
they almost ran down the Supervisor, who was walking down the road as
unconcernedly as though nothing had happened.

"Oh, Mr. Merritt," cried the boy, "I thought you were dead."

"Cheerful greeting, that," answered the Forester. "No, I'm not dead. You
look nearer it than I do."

"But didn't you get run down?"

"Do I look as if I'd been a sidewalk for a thousand steers?" was the
disgusted reply. "Don't ask silly questions, Loyle."

But the foreman broke in:

"The boy's right enough to ask," he said; "an' there's no reason why you
shouldn't tell. How did you dodge the steers?"

"That was easy enough," said Merritt. "I held on to Baldy until I saw a
crack in the rock big enough to hold a