"It was little to do," the Indian girl responded modestly. "After all
you have done for me, Miss Fielding. And I am not afraid of horses."

"Them horses was something to be afraid of--believe me!" ejaculated one
of the men. "The gal's a peach of a rider at that."

Here Helen suddenly demanded to know where Jennie was.

"I do believe she's burrowed right through the bottom of this tonneau!"

"Haven't either!" came in the muffled voice of the fleshy girl, and she
began to rise up from under enveloping robes. "Take your foot off my
arm, Nell. You're trampling me awfully. I thought it was one of those
dreadful horses!"

"Well--I--like--that!" gasped Helen.

"I didn't," Jennie groaned, finally coming to the surface--like a
porpoise, Ruth gigglingly suggested, to breathe! "I was sure one of
those awful creatures was stamping on me. If I haven't suffered _this_
day! Such spots as were not already black and blue, are now properly
bruised. I shall be a sight."

"Poor Heavy!" said Ruth. "You always have the hard part. But, thank
goodness, we escaped in safety!"

"Do let's go to a hotel somewhere and stay a week to recuperate," begged
the fleshy girl, as they rode on toward the railroad town. "One day of
movie making calls for a week of rest--believe me!"