"I now move," proposed Ned Rector, "that this club direct its
secretary to write to the uncle of its president, pointing out to him
the advisability of providing a pony for said president to ride; said
president being so heavy as to make walking to the meetings of this
club a burden to himself and to the club members who have to wait for
him."

This motion was adopted with a shout of laughter.

After having directed the secretary, at his own suggestion, to notify
Tad Butler of his election, the club adjourned to meet on the
following morning for field practice. In other words, the club's two
ponies, with Walter Perkins and Ned Rector upon them, were to be taken
out for exercise about the village and in nearby roads.

The next day being Saturday, Tad Butler found himself too busy to
devote much time to brooding over his troubles. As a matter of fact,
the boy was little given to this sort of thing; he was too much a
man. His was a wholesome, confident nature, and the same indomitable
courage and determination that had enabled him to stand next to the
head of his class in the high school filled him with a resolution to
possess a pony of his own. Nor did he permit the receipt of a letter
that morning, informing him of his honorary election to the Pony
Riders Club, to cast him down, even though, for want of a pony, he
could not enter into full membership.

Instead, with flashing eyes, his clean-cut jaw set more firmly than
usual, Tad went about his duties of the day cheerfully, his active
mind running over this and that plan through which he might possibly