“If he knows the trick of getting me through, neither I nor any one else could ask anything more of him.” Alden was about to start when he recalled the matter of the cartridges. He gave his belt to Jenkins and accepted one from him. It might seem a trifling thing that he should leave the heavier one behind for the sake of the saving in weight, but such was the fact, though the difference was slight. He could secure all the other cartridges he might need from his friends. “I must weigh twenty pounds more than Dick Lightfoot and everything counts. What is the pony’s name?” “Bucephalus,” was the amazing reply. “Great Cæsar!” laughed Alden; “do you call him that?” “’Ceph for short; well, good bye!” Alden waved his hand and was off like a thunderbolt. Our young friend was hardly out of sight of the little group who stood watching him, when ’Ceph became playful. He had been resting so long that he yearned for exercise and action. As an introduction he reached around and nipped at the rider’s ankle. A horse is quick to learn what kind of man holds the reins, and woe to him whom the equine despises! Bucephalus would not have needed any enlightenment had Harper or any one of the regular riders been in the saddle, but he wasn’t sure about the lusty young fellow who was trying to lord it over him. When the head came about, and Alden saw what the pony meant, he gave him a vigorous kick on the end of his nose. ’Ceph wasn’t pleased with that, and after a brief wait tried to bite the other ankle. Alden promptly kicked him harder than before. Evidently that wasn’t the right way to overcome the conceited young man, so what did Bucephalus do but suddenly buck? He arched his back, jammed his hoofs together and bounced up and down as if the ground had suddenly become red hot. Alden hadn’t expected anything of the kind, and came within a hair of being unhorsed. He saved himself, braced his legs and body and then let the animal do his best or worst. The youth was sorry he had no spurs, for he would have been glad to drive them into the sides of the mischievous brute. The latter bucked until tired, then spun around as if on a pivot and finally dashed off on a dead run. Alden let him go unrestrained, knowing he was taking the right course, for he saw plenty of hoof prints in the ground over which they skimmed. It was not difficult for our young friend to keep his seat, and he was rather pleased with the liveliness of the animal. “There won’t be much of this left in you at the end of fifteen miles, ’Cephy, and I have no objection so long as it doesn’t block the game.”