Long before daylight the next morning, Professor Gillette was awake and he waited impatiently for the first sign of life in the house. It would never do, he thought, to disturb the family on his first morning in their house.

But he did not have to wait long. Dad Patten was an early riser and at the first sound the professor was ready to go out in the yard. Here he found Indian Joe already busy, going doggedly about his work, never in a hurry, never fl.u.s.tered but accomplishing a surprising lot of jobs during his long day.

He had brought in Kit's horse, a beautiful, dark, slender animal that pawed the ground and whinneyed impatiently.

Kit slipped from the house with a cry of joy. "Oh, Powder, you dear, dear old thing! I love you! And you'll never know how much I missed you!"

There was a sparkle in Joe's eye as he hastily put on the saddle while Kit ran into the house for her riding knickers. The professor watched admiringly as she swung into the saddle. Then he stood paralyzed with fear as the horse stood straight up on his hind legs, then with a sudden spring he reversed his position with his hind legs in the air.

Kit had half expected this performance and had put on spurs which she dug into his sides. Not for a second did she leave the saddle. She finally turned the horse's head toward the road and with a prod of the spurs sent the animal down it at a speed that made the professor gasp in fright. Every moment he expected to see the girl thrown against the jagged rocks at the side of the narrow thoroughfare. But Kit held the reins. Soon she was out of sight and the old man went in search of Dad Patten.

"Kit's horse is running away with her," he exclaimed, his hand trembling.

But Dad Patten and Indian Joe merely smiled. "It had to come," said the girl's father. "Whenever Kit leaves that horse, even for a week, she has to go through this. Powder wants to be boss and tries to win, but Kit is always master."

"She knows what she's doing," Ma Patten rea.s.sured the old man when he excitedly pointed out Kit far over the mesa, struggling with her pony who was once more bucking. "Kit has been riding a horse ever since she was a baby."

Kit returned half an hour later, her cheeks glowing, her eyes dancing with excitement. And when the professor voiced his fears to her, she replied: "You know I don't believe that horse would throw me. I think he goes just as far as he knows I can handle him. He's brainy, that pony! No one knows how I've missed him."

The professor looked at her with the same admiring glance as Jim Hawkins, the riding master on Campers' Trail, had done. His eyes were not seeing the fancy riding in quite such a professional manner as Jim, but nevertheless he gloried in the poise and daring of this slight bit of a girl. Things were very different when he was a boy. Then girls clung like plants and were sheltered.

The professor had never seen such riding and he stood staring over the mesa as Kit once more gave her horse the spurs.

In spite of her parents' confidence, he could not believe that Kit had the horse under control for the animal raced madly, then suddenly without any warning, stopped short and tried by every method known to a horse, to throw off his burden. He reared, he bucked, he "sun-fished"

but all to no avail. The girl stuck to her saddle.

"Won't somebody help her?" the professor prayed desperately. "She will be killed!"

CHAPTER IX

_LOST CANYON_

The four girls at Casa Grande were hardly awake that first morning, when a shout brought them to the window.

It was Kit, seated on her spirited pony, that pawed the ground as she drew him up by the wall.

"Wake up, lazy girls!" cried Kit. "The Judge has been out for a ride before breakfast, and here you are missing the best part of the day.

Come to the window and meet my friend, Powder."

"Oh, Kit," called Bet excitedly, "is that Powder? Do wait and let me ride him."

Kit laughed. "As I told you before, if you want to ride Powder after seeing how he acts with me, you can take a chance. He's trying to show me how much he loves me. Hurry up and get a bite to eat. I see Tommy getting the horses ready."

Much to the disgust of Tang, the girls hurried through their breakfast, hardly knowing what they were eating, so excited were they over the prospect of a ride in Lost Canyon.

"Are your western horses very wild?" asked Joy as she joined Kit in the courtyard. "I--I don't know how to ride very well."

"Don't worry, Joy! I brought you a safe one. We always give Dolly to people who can't ride well. She's as safe as a rocking chair."

Even Joy could feel no apprehension when she got into the saddle.

Dolly was decidedly safe. On the least upgrade she puffed and stopped short to rest.

"Poor thing! She's all tired out!" exclaimed Bet, watching Joy's horse lumber up a heavy grade. "I think it's a shame, Tommy Sharpe, to let an old horse like that carry a load."

"I do sort of feel sorry for that horse, Dolly," drawled Kit. "Joy is such a heavy-weight that Dolly just has to puff. Why, she tips the scales at ninety-two pounds."

Everybody laughed and Tommy drew in his horse and waited until Joy came abreast on a level stretch. Then he reached over and dug into the horse's side.

Dolly leaped forward as Joy gave a cry of fright, but this only lasted for a moment. Dolly's speed was soon over and she settled back into her usually lazy pace.

"That horse is a cheat. If I were riding her she'd step along lively without urging. But she has a lot of sense and knows who is on her back," laughed Kit, offering Joy her quirt, which she carried only because it looked pretty. Powder never needed a quirt.

"Dolly isn't so very old. She's lazy!" said Tommy.

"Don't say that, Tommy. She isn't lazy, she was born tired," reproved Bet.

Joy refused the quirt. "Oh, I just couldn't use a whip, Kit. I just couldn't. Dolly's a nice horse and I wouldn't think of hurting her. I think you people are terribly hard-hearted and cruel." And as if Dolly understood just what was being said, she made for the shade of a large tree and stood still, and no amount of coaxing on Joy's part would make her budge.

"She won't do as I tell her, at all," pouted Joy.

"Then maybe you'll accept a quirt now and say 'thank you'," and Kit extended the quirt once more.

"I hate to use it," Joy looked bewildered, but the others were going on and would soon be far ahead. She brought the braided leather down on the side of the horse. Dolly sprang into action, galloped for a few minutes, then settled down to a jog trot. But by this time Joy was getting impatient. Again and again the quirt descended, and for a full minute at a time the horse trotted.

"Why you cruel, hard-hearted girl!" Bet shouted over her shoulder.

"How can you bear to hit that gentle creature?"

Joy wrinkled up her nose at Bet and motioned her to go on.

"Keep up the good work," called Tommy Sharpe. "We'll never get over to Sombrero b.u.t.te to-day, if you let Dolly set the pace. I wish I had given you Oso. That's a mean little imp of a burro. But at that I believe he'd have gone faster than Dolly."

"Oh, Tommy, I'd love to ride a burro. Will you let me, truly?" begged Joy.

"And so do I want to ride a burro, Tommy. I'm always thrilled to pieces when I see the picture of one." Bet had a sudden inspiration.

"Let's have a burro party some day and all ride burros. I think that would be fun."

"That's O.K. for me, if you ride them, Bet. As for me, I'll ride Powder," spoke Kit contemptuously. "Why should anyone want to ride one of those contrary little beasts? I think they are horrid."

They had suddenly followed a trail into a canyon, which brought them down into the bed of a stream.

"This is Lost Canyon!" Kit called to the girls.

"I wonder how places get their names?" asked Bet. "Why did they call this Lost Canyon?"

"n.o.body knows," responded Kit. "When I was a very little girl I always felt sorry for it. I truly thought it was lost and in my childish mind I planned to have the canyon find itself someday. Wasn't that silly?"