you sometimes clatter past my house makes me think you'll sure have an
accident. Sometimes I'm so nervous I can't look at you."

"Sunger is pretty sure-footed, even on worse mountain trails than the one
from Rainbow Ridge to Golden Crossing," answered Jack with a laugh, that
showed his white, even teeth, which formed a strange contrast to his tanned
face.

"Sunger," repeated Mrs. Watson, musingly. "What an odd name. I often wonder
how you came to call him that."

"It isn't his real name," explained Jack, as he gave another look up the
trail over which the rays of the declining sun were shining, and then
walked up to the porch, where he sat down. "The pony was once owned by a
Mexican miner, and he named him something in Spanish which meant that the
little horse could go so fast that he dodged the sun. Sundodger was what
the name would be in English, I suppose, and after I bought him that's what
I called him.

"But Sundodger is too much of a mouthful when one's in a hurry," and Jack
laughed at his idea, "so," he went on, "I shortened it to Sunger, which
does just as well."

"Yes, as long as he knows it," agreed Mrs. Watson. "But I guess, Jack, I
had better be going, I did think I'd wait until your father came, and put
the supper on for you both, but he's so late now--"

"Yes, Mrs. Watson, don't wait," interrupted Jack. "I don't know what to
make of dad's being so late. But we're used to getting our own meals, so
you needn't worry. We'll get along all right."