act had attracted no attention.

"Prepare to mount!" rang Captain Albutt's voice.

Each cadet took hold of mane, bridle and saddle in the way prescribed
and stood with left foot in stirrup.

"Mount!"

Jauntily each man swung up, passing his right leg over his mounts
back, then settling easily into saddle.

For the first few minutes the squad walked, trotted, cantered
and galloped around the tanbark in single file. Then their instructor,
riding always near the center of the floor, threw them into platoon
front at the west end of the hall. Now he gave them some general
instruction as to the nature of the evolutions they were to perform.
The next command came by bugle, and the platoon broke into column
of fours, moving forward at the trot, Captain Albutt riding at
the left flank near the head of the column.

As the horses fell into column of fours Haynes saw his chance.
Nearly always, in this formation, some of the horses bump their
neighbors. Haynes, by a slight twist of the bridle, threw horse
over against Prescott's. The thing was so natural as to attract
no notice.

Just as the horses touched flanks, however, Haynes, with his right
foot swiftly withdrawn from its stirrup-box, gave Satan a vicious
jab with the pin-point protruding from the toe of his boot.

There was a wild snort. Satan seemed instantly bent on proving
the appropriateness of his name.

Lowering his head, Satan kicked out viciously with his hind feet,
throwing the horses just behind into confusion.

Almost in the same instant Satan bit the rump of a horse in front
of him.

Then up reared Prescotts mount.

Dick was a good horseman, but this move had caught him unawares.
A horse at a trot is not usually hard to manage, and Prescott had
not been on his guard against any such trick.

By the time that Satan came down from his plunge Dick had a firm
seat and a strong hand on the bridle. But Satan was a tough-mouthed
animal. His unlooked-for antics had caused the horses just ahead
to swerve.

Through the scattering four in front plunged Satan, fire in his
eyes, his nostrils quivering.

Captain Albutt took the situation in at once.

"Squad halt!" he roared. Be cool, Mr. Prescott! Bring your mount
down with tact, not brute force.

Satan, having taken the bit between his teeth, went tearing around
the tan-bark, not in the least minding the tight hold that his
rider had on the bridle, or the way that the bit cut into his
mouth. S