Grace Harlowes Overland Riders in the Great North Woods | Page 4

the Overland girls.
"He'll be killed!" wailed Nora.
"Who? The pony?" asked Emma in an unruffled voice.
"No! What do I care about the pony? It's my Hippy."
A yell from the villagers brought others running to the scene, but no one offered assistance. Hippy and the bronco were tussling on the threshold of the car with Hippy's feet in the air most of the time.
"Tickle him in the ribs," suggested a villager. "That'll make him laugh and he'll fergit to kick."
The villagers howled with delight.
"Tickle him yourself," retorted Nora.
"Jump!" urged Miss Briggs.
"No! Hang on!" shouted Tom Gray. "If you let go he'll kill you! Urge him down the gangway and I will grab him when he makes the rush."
At that instant the pony leaped. Hippy lost his foothold on the edge of the doorsill, and the pony, unable to bear the additional weight on its neck, stumbled and went down on the gangway. The animal's hips struck the railing, burst through it, and 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, it dies."
Emma Dean uttered a high, trilling laugh, and the other girls joined in so heartily that, for a moment, or so, work came to a standstill. Hippy then briskly attacked the packs, while Tom secured them to the backs of the ponies.
While this was being done Grace left the party to buy food sufficient to last for at least a two-days' journey, and returned with her arms full of bundles, the contents being transferred to the mess kits of her companions.
"Are you going to let the dog run?" questioned Anne.
"I am not. He rides horseback," replied Hippy briefly. "I am a man of resources."
"Especially in leading educated ponies," murmured Emma.
In the meantime, Hippy had taken a canvas bag from his pack and hung it over the pommel of his saddle.
"Come, Little Hindenburg. We will now go bye-bye," cooed Hippy, lifting the bull pup, depositing it in the open bag, and tying the dog's lead string to the saddle.
"Hippy darlin'!" cried Nora. "If Hindenburg jumps out he will hang himself and choke to death."
"Sure he will. That is why he isn't going to jump out."
Hindenburg stood up in the bag and barked in apparent approval of Hippy's assertion.
"Listen!" exclaimed Emma, holding up a hand. "Bark again, Hindenburg."
Hindenburg did so, Emma Dean giving close attention.
"What is the big idea?" demanded Lieutenant Wingate.
"I