Carefully French looked over all straps and buckles, drew the lines free, and then mounting the buckboard seat, said quietly, "Stand clear, Jimmy.

Let them go." Which Jimmy promptly did.
For a few moments they stood surprised at their unexpected freedom, and uncertain what to do with it, then they moved off slowly a few steps till the push of the buckboard threw them into a sudden terror, and the fight was on.

Plunging, backing, kicking, jibing, they finally bolted, fortunately choosing the trail that led in the right direction.
"Good-by, Jimmy.

See you later," sang out French as, with cool head and steady hand, he directed the running ponies.
"Jumpin' cats!" replied Jimmy soberly, "don't look as if you would," as the bronchos tore up the river bank at a terrific gallop.
Before they reached the top French had them in hand, and going more smoothly, though still running at top speed.

Kalman sat clinging to the rocking, pitching buckboard, his eyes alight and his face aglow with excitement.