d man and horse rolled off to the
ground, Ginger kicking and squealing, with Hippy Wingate clinging
desperately to his neck.

CHAPTER II

THE VOICE OF NATURE

The bronco was on his feet instantly, with Hippy still clinging to the
animal's neck. All the villagers scattered as Ginger bolted across the
street.

"Why don't _you_ tickle his ribs?" cried Emma to the spectators.

For a few moments it looked as if man and bronco would land in the
village postoffice by way of its large front window.

"Whew!" grinned Hippy, mopping his brow after he had conquered and tied
the pony to the tie-rail in front of the postoffice.

"I--I thought you said that Ginger was an educated horse," reminded
Emma.

"He is. That is what is the matter with him. Like some persons, not far
removed from me at the present moment, he knows _too_ much for the
general good of the community. What Ginger needs is a finishing school,
and he's going to start right in attending one this very day. You watch
my smoke."

"Smoke!" chuckled Elfreda Briggs. "I don't mind it at all ordinarily,
but I do wish that, when you get excited, you wouldn't insist on burning
soft coal."

"Say, Mister! Why don't yer feed the critter some soothin' syrup? They
got it in the store there," urged a spectator. "Good fer man er beast."

Hippy grinned at the speaker, and the villagers roared.

"Good idea, old top. We will pour a bottleful down your throat at the
same time. It is good for all animals, you know. Why don't you roar, you
folks? All right, if you won't, I'll roar." Hippy haw-hawed and the
villagers grinned.

"Come, come. Please do something, Hippy," begged Grace laughingly.

"Sure thing. What do you want me to do?"

"If you and Tom will roll and tie the packs, you will be doing us a
service. I imagine we girls are a bit out of practice in lashing packs,
and, as we have quite a bit of equipment to carry, and a long ride ahead
of us to-day, we must have everything secure, and start as soon as
possible."

"Want a guide, Mister?" questioned a young man dressed as a lumberjack,
lounging up to Lieutenant Wingate. "I kin take ye anywheres."

"We have one," replied Hippy briefly.

"I don't see none. Who be he?"

"Name's Hindenburg," said Hippy, pointing to the bull pup. "Greatest
little guide west of the Atlantic Ocean. I paid a thousand dollars for
his bark alone. The breeder threw in the rest of the dog because, when
you peel the bark off a tree,