The pony's sudden surrender was of itself suspicious to those who
were familiar with the western bronco, and the laid-back ears were
significant to them of trouble to come.

"Is he an outlaw!" asked Grace, meaning an animal naturally so
vicious that he never had been satisfactorily broken.

Hi Lang, to whom the question had been addressed, gave Grace a
quick glance of inquiry.

"Some call him that. At least he's got the ginger in him, and
mebby he is an outlaw. Keep a tight rein on him; don't let him get
his head down if you can help his doing so, and stick to your
leather. Watch him every second, for he's got a box full of
tricks."

"Thank you for the suggestions. I shall not forget."

"I ought not let you ride him. I reckon you'll get enough of the
critter before you have ridden him many minutes, even if you stick
on that long."

"Mr. Lang, I intend to ride that 'critter,' as you call him,
across the desert. Will he bolt while I am mounting?"

"Mebby. All ready now."

"Have you any last requests to make, Grace Harlowe?" asked Elfreda
Briggs frowningly. Elfreda strongly disapproved of Grace's
"foolhardiness," as she called it.