In a moment Tad was running toward his companion.

“Is he settled?”

“I don’t know.  His—–­his eyes are open,” stammered Walter, standing off a safe distance from the prostrate beast.

Tad poked the animal with the muzzle of his rifle.

“Yes, he’s a dead one.  One less brute to make war on the deer.  Won’t old Dad be surprised when we trail into camp with this big game?” exulted the Pony Rider boy.

“Yes, but—–­but how are we going to get the fellow there?” wondered Walter.

“Get him there?  Well, I guess we’ll do it somehow.  I’ll tell you what, I’ll take him over the saddle in front of me.  That’s the idea.  You bring out Silver Face and we’ll see how he feels about it.  I wouldn’t be surprised if he raised a row.”

Silver Face did object most emphatically.  The instant the pony came in sight of the dead lion he sat down on his haunches.  Tad urged and threatened, but not another inch would the pinto budge.

“I guess I know how to fix you,” gritted the boy.

He was on the back of the sitting mustang, his feet in the stirrups, before the pony realized what had happened.  A reasonably sharp rowel, pressed into the pinto’s side, brought him a good two feet clear of the ground.

Then began a lively battle between the boy and the horse.

“Don’t let him tread on the beast,” shouted Walter.

“N-n-no danger of that,” stammered Tad.  It was a lively battle while it lasted, but Silver Face realized, as he had never done before, that he had met his master.  After some twenty minutes of fight, in which the pinto made numerous futile attempts to climb the sheer side of the canyon at the imminent danger of toppling over backwards and crushing his master, the brute gave up.

“Now you hold him while I load on the beast,” directed Tad, riding up.

This called for more disturbance.  Silver Face fought against taking a lion on his back.  He drew the line at that.  Just the same, after another lively scrimmage, Mr. Lion was loaded on, but no sooner had Tad swung into the saddle than he swung out again.  He hadn’t even time to get his toes in the stirrups before he was flying through the air, head first.  Walter had difficulty in determining which was boy and which was lion.  The lion struck the ground first, Tad landing on top of him.

With rare presence of mind, Walter had seized the pinto and was having a lively set-to with the beast, with the odds in favor of Silver Face, when Tad sprang up and ran to his companion’s assistance.

Tad’s temper was up.  The way he grilled Silver Face that animal perhaps never forgot.  Not that Tad abused his mount.  He never would be guilty of abusing a horse.  He was too fond of horseflesh to do such a thing, but he knew how to punish an animal in other and more effective ways.  Silver Face was punished.

“Now, my fine fellow, let’s see who’s boss here!” laughed Tad.  “Hold him while I put aboard the baggage, Walt.”