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BOB CHESTER'S GRIT

ing over the plains. Noting this, an idea flashed into Bob's mind and he called the dog to him.

As he approached, Bob took a firm grip with his right hand in the mass of hair on Chester's shoulders, exclaiming:

"You've got to help me run, boy. Now don't go too fast. Remember, I can't leap the way you do."

And, as though understanding, the dog moderated his gait and together they tore through the grass.

Yet so uneven was the race that Bob would certainly have been captured had not aid come from an unexpected quarter.

So still was the air that the report of Bob's shot had carried to the ears of John Ford who, sensing trouble, was riding slowly toward Red Top to meet the lad.

Shooting not being common on the plains thereabouts, no sooner had he heard the report than he clapped spurs to his horse and dashed in its direction, and not far had he ridden before he caught sight of Bob and Chester and their pursuers.

At a glance, he realized that the boy was in great danger, and grinding his teeth savagely, he rode at him like mad, from time to time shouting to Bob to keep up courage.

But the plucky boy saw and recognized his