After a time it was plain the pony had given up the fight. He was galloping steadily, as if like the others, he had but one ambition in life which was to throw the miles behind him in the shortest possible time. All the same, Alden was on his guard. There was no saying what whim might enter the head of the brute. One of his kind will be good for weeks with no other object than to throw a man off his guard. It did not seem likely that such was the case with the animal Alden was riding, though it might be so. He thought it more probably due to a natural exuberance of spirits, which after a time would wear off.