After a few moments of hesitation, St. Ives led the way into the stable, and the boys looked the other ponies over.
One of them was a homely old crock, with knees and hocks bunched up out of all semblance to those built on strictly anatomical principles. This pony attracted Merriwell’s attention.
“That is Coffin Head,” said St. Ives.
Instantly an inspiration seized Frank.
“If you don’t mind,” he said, “I’ll ride Coffin Head.”
Kenneth gasped.
“You can’t mean it!” he exclaimed.
“I do,” nodded Merry. “Somehow I’ve taken a fancy to the old fellow. You say he has been a good one?”
“One of the best.”
“Then he hasn’t forgotten the tricks of the business. I’m going to try him.”