"There, that will do, Jim. Quit it!"

The furious horse and rider instantly disappeared. A few moments after,
the bewildered Clarence saw the redoubted horseman trotting along
quietly in the dust of the rear, on the same fiery steed, who in that
prosaic light bore an astounding resemblance to an ordinary team horse.
Later in the day he sought an explanation from the rider.

"You see," answered Jim gloomily, "thar ain't a galoot in this yer crowd
ez knows jist WHAT'S in that hoss! And them ez suspecks daren't say! It
wouldn't do for to hev it let out that the Judge hez a Morgan-Mexican
plug that's killed two men afore he got him, and is bound to kill
another afore he gets through! Why, on'y the week afore we kem up to
you, that thar hoss bolted with me at camping! Bucked and throwed me,
but I kept my holt o' the stirrups with my foot--so! Dragged me a matter
of two miles, head down, and me keepin' away rocks with my hand--so!"

"Why didn't you loose your foot and let go?" asked Clarence
breathlessly.

"YOU might," said Jim, with deep scorn; "that ain't MY style. I just
laid low till we kem to a steep pitched hill, and goin' down when the
hoss was, so to speak, kinder BELOW me, I just turned a hand spring, so,
and that landed me onter his back again."

This action, though vividly illustrated by Jim's throwing his hands down
like feet beneath him, and indicating the parabola of a spring in
the air, proving altogether too much for Clarence's mind to grasp, he
timidly turned to a less difficult detail.