e, you jump off, an' we'll let somebody else take
him home."

It was a hard task, and they all ran considerable risk of getting
kicked; but at last it was accomplished, so far as mounting was
concerned. Toby was on the pony's back with a firm grasp of the rope
that was made to serve as bridle.

"Now, be all ready to run," he said; and there was no disposition to
linger shown by any of his friends.

"Let go!" he shouted, and at the sound of his voice the boys went one
way and the pony another at full speed.

It was not until the would-be circus managers were within the shelter of
the clump of bushes that they stopped to look for their partner, and
then they saw him at the further end of the pasture, the pony running
and leaping as if doing his best to dislodge his rider.

Even the Douglass horse seemed to be excited by the display of spirit,
for he capered around in a manner very unbecoming one as old and blind
as he.

Only for a few moments could they watch the contest, and then the
distant trees hid Toby Tyler and Chandler Merrill's pony from view.

CHAPTER V

OLD BEN

Some time the boys watched for Toby's return, and just as they were
beginning to think they ought to go in search of him, and fearing lest
he had been hurt by the vicious pony, they saw him coming from among the
trees, alone and on foot.

"Well," said Bob, with a sigh of relief, "he's got rid of the hoss, an'
that was all we wanted."

Toby's story, when at last, hot and tired, he reached the alder bushes,
was not nearly so exciting as his partners anticipated. He had clung to
the pony until they entered the woods, where he was brushed off by the
branches of the trees as easily as if he had been a fly, and with as
little damage.

How they should get the pony back into its owner's keeping was a
question difficult to answer, and they were all so completely worn out
by their exertions to get rid of him that they did not attempt to come
to any conclusion regarding it.

While they were resting from their labors, and before they had ceased to
congratulate each other that they had succeeded in separating themselves
from the pony, Leander Leighton, his accordion under his arm and his
clappers in his hand, made his appearance.

His struggle with the baby had evidently come to an end sooner than he
had dared hope, and the managers were happy at this speedy prospect of
hearing what their band could do in the way of music.

"Boys!" shoute