He saw it was no use.

Whatever queer thing they meant to do to him would be done despite all his resistance.

Still his alarm had caused him to hold up his head now.

He was looking much more like a horse.
"There!" said Merton Gill, and as a finishing touch he lashed the coiled clothesline to the front of the saddle.

"Now, here! Get me this way.
This is one of the best things I do--that is, so far." Fondly he twined his arms about the long, thin neck of Dexter, who tossed his head and knocked off the cowboy hat.