But he still retained the bridle, and was dragged.
The vicious animal wheeled, rearing, and its fore-feet came down aimed at Dodge's face.
Dick Prescott was the nearest cadet horseman at this moment.
Suspecting what might happen, Prescott had swung his own mount sharply out of line, riding straight after Dodge.
"Drop your bridle!" called Dick sternly.
Then, just as Dodge's horse was bringing its fore-feet down, Prescott rode against the angry animal, striking it against the flank and shoving it sideways and back.

The brute's forefeet struck the tan-bark, but more than two feet from Dodge's head.

Bert had presence of mind enough to roll to one side.
In an instant Prescott was down out of saddle, holding his own splendidly disciplined mount by the bridle while he bent over his class-mate.
Dodge lay on the tan-bark, his uniform awry and dirty, and his face blanched with fear of the horse.
"Are you much hurt, Dodge ?" asked Dick.
"No, confound you!" muttered Bert under his breath.
As if to prove his lack of injury, he sat up, then rose to his feet.
"Mount, Mr.Prescott, and join the line," noting all with quick eyes.

"Mr.Dodge, recapture your horse, mount and fall in." That was the discipline of the tan-bark.

If a cadet falls from a horse and has no bones broken, or no other desperate injury, he must wait until his horse comes around, catch it and mount again.