“Pawnee sometimes run all day. Mebbe ketch one, mebbe not. Too swift, have too much wind.” “Well, we can try,” laughed the doctor. The camp was excited, to-night, with the thought of catching wild horses. The men busied themselves tying nooses in their picket ropes. “But we haven’t a critter that could ketch a badger,” John Sparks complained; “unless it be the doctor’s black an’ that yaller pony o’ Stub’s.” Stub doubted very much whether his yellow pony would amount to anything, in racing wild horses. The Pawnees always used two or three horses, each, so as to tire the wild horses out. However, the lieutenant was bound to try. In the morning he picked out the six best horses, which included the yellow pony, and appointed the riders. They were himself, the doctor, Baroney, soldier John Sparks, soldier Freegift Stout, and Stub. Only Baroney and Stub had seen wild horses chased before. All the camp, except the camp guards, followed. The wild horses were in about the same place, a mile distant. They waited, curious, pawing and snorting and speaking to the tame horses, until within short bow shot, or forty steps. On a sudden they wheeled. “After ’em!” the lieutenant shouted. “Hooray!” Ah, but that was sport! Stub’s yellow pony sprang to the fore; he was nimble and he carried light. No――another horse and rider forged alongside him. They were the medicine-man and his black; a good rider and a good horse. Stub hammered and yelled. “Hi! Hi! Hi!” The doctor lashed and yelled. Already they had gained the heels of the flying herd. The clods of earth thrown by the rapid hoofs bombarded them lustily. Baroney and soldier Sparks and soldier Stout, and even the lieutenant had been dropped behind. But working hard, they two never got quite far enough in, to cast the ropes. The wild horses were playing with them. After about two miles the yellow pony and the doctor’s horse began to wheeze and to tire; the wild band were running as strongly as ever――only romping along, biting and kicking at each other. Then as if to show what they really could do, led by their black stallion, they lengthened their strides, opened the gap wider and wider, and were away. The doctor hauled short. “No use, Stub,” he called. So Stub pulled down, and turned. “No use,” he agreed. “But heap fun.” “You bet!” pronounced the doctor, panting. “What do you say ‘heap’ fun for? That’s not American; that’s Injun. Americans say ‘much’ fun, or ‘great’ fun.” “All right,” Stub admitted――for the doctor knew. “Heap chase wild horse, much fun.” “Oh, pshaw!” the doctor laughed. “If I could only get into that head of yours I’d take the ‘heaps’ out of it. How’s your white spot, these days? Burn any?” “Some days burn, some days no. Some days heavy, some days light.” And with that, Stub kept his distance. He wished that the doctor would quit talking about “getting into” his head. A medicine-man had dangerous power.