“What makes him do that, Nat?” he asked. “You pullin’ him up?” “Not any, boss.” Nat answered sincerely. “He’s doin’ it himself. Like Pop said, I guess, he don’t like lowlands.” “Seems to me as though he sensed a stranger around,” Teddy said to Roy in a low tone. “I’ve seen Nat’s bronco do that before, when a new man came into the yard of the X Bar X. It’s got nothing to do with the place we’re in now.” “Well, there’s enough men with us he never saw before,” Roy countered. He motioned toward Jake Trummer and his followers. “Think they’re the reason, Teddy?” “No, I don’t and I’ll tell you why. Because I noticed that it’s only a man that comes alone who effects the bronc like that. Nat,” he called, “did you ever see your horse act like that before?” “Well, he does get kind of nervous when a stranger comes around,” Nat admitted. “But usually it’s only if the stranger rides alone. I can’t figure why the bronc should do it here unless Pop’s right about him bein’ leary of lowlands.” Teddy shook his head, but said nothing in reply. Darkness was nearly upon them, and Mr. Manley held up his hand for a halt. “Stick close now, men,” he ordered. “Jake, you want to show us the way out of here? Guess you know it better than I do. We want to camp as soon as possible.” “Right, Bardwell!” Jake agreed. “All set, men? Follow me. Don’t get too far apart. We don’t want no stragglers.” He rode forward again, and the others strung along behind him. Just as he reached a knoll, which marked the end of the lowland, those following heard him give an exclamation of surprise. Mr. Manley spurred his horse forward. “What is it, Jake?” he asked. “Look!” Jake answered shortly. “There’s a horse without a rider. Maybe that’s why Nat’s bronc was actin’ up. He’s got a saddle on, too.” Ahead of them, half concealed by the settling dusk, stood a pinto. On his back was a saddle, but no rider. When the animal saw the group in front of him, it ran toward them. “Jimminy!” Teddy breathed. “His right foreleg is hurt. Notice how he’s limping? What does he remind you of, Roy?” “He doesn’t _remind_ me of anything; he _is_!” Roy answered forcibly. The horse came closer. “Teddy, that’s the pony The Pup stole, or I’m a ring-tailed doodle bird!” CHAPTER XXII The Man at the Fire “Our pony!” Mr. Manley almost shouted it. “Do you mean to say that’s the bronc that Marino stole?” “Look at him yourself, Dad!” Teddy cried excitedly. “Wait, I’ll see if I can get him. He knows me--I broke him. Stay here.” The boy rode rapidly forward. The horse did not turn and run, but stood, waiting. In a moment Teddy had hold of his bridle rein and was leading him back. “See? Isn’t he?” Mr. Manley looked closer. “He certainly is, Teddy! Well, for the love of Pete! how’d _he_ get here--an’ where’s The Pup?”