out of the way when his mount landed. He had been hurled from the
saddle the instant the pony's feet struck the unresisting sand.

But Ned clung doggedly to the bridle reins. He, too, struck on his
back. He heard the squealing, kicking pony floundering down upon
him, its every effort to right itself forcing it further and further
down the slippery bank. Now on its back, now with its nose in the
sand, Bad-eye was rapidly nearing the swiftly moving creek. Ned had
all he could do to keep out of the way, and on account of the
darkness he had to be guided more by instinct than by any other
sense. However, it was not difficult to keep track of the now
thoroughly frightened animal.

Ned leaped to one side. An instant later, and he would have been
caught under the pony.

The animal hit the water with a mighty splash, with Ned still
clinging to the reins. As the pony went in, Ned was jerked in also,
striking the water head first.

He could have screamed from the shock of the icy water, which seemed
to smite him like a heavy blow.

For a moment boy and pony floundered about in the stream. It seemed
almost a miracle that the lad was not killed by those flying hoofs
that were beating the water almost into a froth.

As soon as he was able to get to the surface Ned exerted all his
strength to swim out further toward the middle of the stream. Even
when he was under water, he still kept a firm grip on the rein. To