"My, my!" said Jack, talking to himself as he galloped along, "that coffee certainly was bitter. It seems to be getting worse—that taste in my mouth. I believe it's giving me a head ache, too. I certainly do feel queer—sort of dizzy. Maybe it was the hot sun. I'll cool off at the spring. But I do feel so queer," and Jack passed his hand across his forehead.
CHAPTER XIX
A DESPERATE RIDE
Nearing the spring, where he had taken a drink before that day, Jack was about to dismount to get some cooling water. But such a strange feeling of weakness and dizziness came over him that he had to hold himself in the saddle.
"I—I'm afraid if I get out I won't be able to get up again," he murmured weakly. "Sunger, what's the matter with me, I wonder?"
Then, ill as he felt himself becoming, like a flash an idea came to Jack.
The meaning of it all came to him instantly.
"I've been drugged!" he said, hoarsely. "That Ryan! That was his game. He drugged my coffee, that time when he made me turn around! I saw him putting back my cup! He put some drug in my coffee to make me unconscious!"
For a moment the thought of the desperate trick that had been played on him made Jack so angry that he succeeded in fighting off the feeling of weakness and dizziness. But it was only for a moment. Then it came back with increasing distress.
"That was the game," he murmured, scarcely able to see now. "He probably had doped the whiskey in that flask, but I didn't take that. Then he watched his chance, urged me to take something to eat with him, and put some drug in my coffee. No wonder it tasted bitter and queer! What a simpleton I was to take it! But I did not know."
Jack was reeling in the saddle. The pony sensed that something was wrong with his master, and stopped.