"What's the matter with you?" demanded the man.

"Your nag must have hurt itself."

"What makes you think so?"

"He has blood on his flanks."

"That's so, kiddie. I reckon I must have pricked him with my bush-knife. I'll have to tend to that at the first opportunity," explained the fellow lamely.

"Pricked him with a bush-knife, eh?"

"Yes."

"Ha, ha, ha; haw, haw, haw!" laughed the fat boy mockingly.

[CHAPTER XIV]

THE FAT BOY DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF