“Well, I suppose what must be, must be,” muttered Ralph, with a groan at the idea of leaving the friendly cottonwoods. The three lads rose to their feet and looked about them. To their dumbfounded amazement no ponies were to be seen. “Great Scott, what can have become of them?” cried Jack. “Stolen, maybe,” suggested Ralph. “How on earth could that be? No one came near while we were resting.” “But they are not to be seen,” objected Walt. “Why, yes, they are,” cried Jack suddenly. “Look, they are all lying down out yonder.” “Gracious, they lie as if they were————” began Walt, when Ralph interrupted him with a sharp cry of: “Dead!” In a moment the boys were at the side of their little mounts. The animals lay stretched out as if they had not an ounce of life in their bodies. But their hearts could be seen beating, and their nostrils moved as the breath passed in and out; so it was quite evident that they were alive. “What on earth can have happened to them?” asked Jack. “You’ve got me,” confessed Walt. “I can’t imagine.” “It’s certain that they were all right and lively a few minutes ago,” said Ralph. “Not a doubt of it,” agreed Jack. “Well, then, it must be something that they’ve eaten right here.” “Yes, but what?” objected Ralph Stetson. “There’s nothing here for them to eat but this grass.” “Maybe it’s the grass, then. It _is peculiar_ looking grass, now you come to look at it. Look at these funny tufts on it.” “I guess you’re right, Walt,” agreed Jack, “but let’s try if we can’t get the ponies on their feet. Maybe it will work off.” Not without a lot of exertion were the ponies induced to stand up, and then they appeared to be so sleepy that they could hardly keep their feet. “Let’s mount them and ride them up and down,” said Jack; “that may help to work off whatever it is that ails them.” The three lads mounted as Jack suggested and began riding their ponies vigorously up and down under the cottonwoods. After a short time the treatment did appear to be effective. The ponies’ eyes, which had been dull and lifeless, brightened up and they shook their heads and tossed their manes vigorously. “Well, they seem to be all right again. I guess we’d better be pushing on,” said Jack. “Hold on a minute. Let’s take some of that grass along,” suggested Walt. “Mr. Reeves may be able to tell us what it is.” “That’s a good idea,” assented Jack. Each of the boys picked a big bunch of the queer–looking grass and stuffed it in his pocket. Then they rode on once more, the ponies seeming to be as well as ever after their odd sleeping fit. It may be said here that Mr. Reeves told them later on that the grass the ponies had eaten was of a rare sort known as “lazy grass.” It grows in parts of the southwest and is readily recognizable by its peculiar tufts. It has the effect of a narcotic, and if taken in large quantities may prove fatal. But the ponies had only eaten enough to make them sleepy, fortunately for the boys. CHAPTER XXIII.