CHAPTER II.
AN ADVENTURE ON THE ROAD.
Grody soon had Nemo saddled and bridled. The horse was eager to be away, as he showed by his tossing head, fluttering nostrils and restless feet.
"Whoa, boy," said Frank, soothingly. "Don't be so impatient. We'll get away in a moment."
He swung into the saddle, the stable doors rolled open, and away sprang the gelding.
The remaining lads hurried out of the stable to watch Frank ride, Grody accompanying them.
"He seems like he were a part of the horse," declared the hostler, admiringly. "That young gentleman were born to handle horses, he were."
"He is, indeed, a graceful rider," nodded Diamond. "I am sure he did not learn in any riding academy, for he rides naturally. The riding academies all turn out riders with an artificial and wooden style. There is no more distressing sight than the riders to be seen in Central Park, New York, almost any afternoon. They
bounce around in the saddle like a lot of wooden figures, and it is plain enough that many of them do not bounce because they want to, but because they think it the proper thing. Southerners ride naturally and gracefully. Mr. Merriwell rides like a Southerner."