brightening, after a moment's consideration. "We will call ourselves
the Rough Riders. That's what we will do, Chunky."

"Yes, but we are not rough riders," protested Chunky. "We are only
beginners; that is, all of us except Tad, and he can't join us--just
because he's too poor to have a horse. As for us--humph! We'd be
rough riders only when we fell off!"

Walter laughed heartily.

"No," he admitted. "I guess we are not rough riders yet; but we may be
some day, after we've learned to ride better. I can't think of any
other name, can you?"

"We might call ourselves the Wild Riders," suggested Chunky.

"No, that won't do, either. It's as bad as the other name. Father'd
never let me go out at all if we called ourselves the Wild Riders,
because he would think it meant we were going to be too much like
cowboys. I guess we shall have to think it over some more. But here
comes Tad back. Suppose we ask him? He'll know what to call the club."

Tad reigned in alongside of them and pulled the pony up sharply,
patting its sleek neck approvingly, still loath to dismount.

"It's great, fellows. Wish I had a pony like him."

"So do I," echoed Chunky.

"Why, you don't have to touch the reins at all. I could ride him