MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



kept, and wanted to get at their task. New 

 soldiers took up their positions at each side of 

 the coach. The driver chmhed into his seat and 

 beside him sat the man of dignity with a heavy 

 rifle in his lap and our gold in his pocket. A 

 groom pulled the mane from under the horses' 

 collars and then with a peculiar low note from 

 the driver, we were off at a gallop. At first 

 we thought it was a runaway, but seeing no at- 

 tempt was made to hold the horses back we 

 came to the right conclusion that that was the 

 regular schedule. 



It was a wild night's ride. I was lying in a 

 cramped position on the mail sacks, but the 

 thrill of the rough rapid pace made my cheeks 

 first hot then cold. In the dim moonlight the 

 Arab soldiers galloping beside us, were like 

 silhouettes and rode like our Indians of the far 

 west. Down a long slope we dashed into a 

 valley. My eyes were fairly popping with ex- 

 citement, though Arthur was dozing. Of 

 course we had the best of the mail sacks, the 

 soldiers had spread out to detect any possible 

 danger. While the four stallions were gallop- 

 ing true and strong, the driver suddenly yelled 

 a long "Yeo!" "Yeo!" "Yeo!" I saw the 

 soldiers dash ahead, drew my revolver and 



[70] 



