The Pony Rider Boys in Texas Part 23

"I'll go, if you wish," said Tad Butler.

"Then go ahead. Got your rope?"

"Yes."

"It'll be good practice for you."

Tad was off like a shot, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

"That boy's got the making of a great cowpuncher in him," said the foreman, nodding his head approvingly.

Tad's pony was the swifter of the two, and besides, he was riding on an oblique line toward the runaway outfit.

It was the first opportunity the lad had had to show off his skill as a cowman, for none had seen his pointing of the herd on the night of the stampede. He was burning with impatience to get within roping distance of the steer before they got so far away that the cowmen would be unable to see the performance.

"Pull up and turn him, Chunky," called Tad.

"I can't."

"Why not? Turn in a half circle, then I shall be able to catch up with you sooner."

"Can't. The muley won't stop long enough for me to turn around."

Tad laughed aloud. He now saw that it was to be a race between the steer and his own pony. The odds, however, were in favor of the steer, for Stacy Brown was pacing him at a lively gait, and Tad was still some distance behind.

The latter's pony was straining every muscle to overhaul the muley. Tad finally slipped the lariat from the saddle bow. Swinging the great loop above his head, he sent it squirming through the air. At that instant the muley changed its course a little and the rope missed its mark by several feet. Now it was dragging behind the running pony.

By this time Tad had fallen considerably behind. He took up the race again with stubborn determination.

Coiling the rope as he rode on, he made another throw.

The noose fell fairly over the head of the muley steer, this time.

Profiting by a previous experience, the lad took a quick turn about the pommel of the saddle. The pony braced itself, ploughing up the ground with its little hoofs as it did so.

A jolt followed that nearly threw Tad from his saddle. The muley steer's head was suddenly jerked to one side and the next instant the animal lay flat on its back, its heels wildly beating the air.

"Whoop!" shouted Tad in high glee, waving his hat triumphantly to the watching cowpunchers.

The steer was up in a moment, with Tad Butler watching him narrowly.

"Cast your rope over his head, Chunky."

Chunky made a throw and missed.

The angry steer rose to its feet and charged him.

Stacy Brown held the muleys in wholesome awe, though, having no horns, they were the least dangerous of the herd.

"Yeow!" shrieked Chunky, putting spurs to his pony and getting quickly out of harm's way.

The steer was after him at a lively gallop, with Tad Butler and his pony in tow. Tad had prudently shaken out the reins when he saw the animal preparing to take up the chase again.

Waiting until the steer had gotten under full headway, the lad watched his chance, then pulled his pony up sharply.

This time the muley's head was jerked down with such violence that it turned a partial somersault, landing on its back with a force that must have knocked the breath out of it.

Again and again did Tad repeat these tactics, the pony seemingly enjoying the sport fully as much as did the boy himself. After a time he succeeded in getting the unruly beast headed toward the herd.

Once he had done that he let the animal have its head and they sailed back over the trail at a speed that made the cowboys laugh. Tad seemed to be driving the steer, with Stacy Brown riding well up to the animal's flanks, laying on his quirt to hasten its speed, every time he got a chance.

As they neared the herd, Tad in attempting to release the rope from the pommel let it slip through his hands.

The lad was chagrined beyond words.

"Rope him quick, Chunky!" he cried.

Lumpy Bates, observing the mishap, had spurred toward the running steer, intending to cast a lariat over one of the animal's feet and throw it so they could remove the lariat from its neck.

Just as the cowboy wheeled his mount in order to reach one of the steer's hind feet, Chunky clumsily cast his own rope.

Instead of reaching the muley steer, the loop caught the left hind foot of the cowpuncher's galloping pony.

"Cinch it!" called Tad as the loop followed an undulating course through the air.

Chunky did cinch it gleefully about his saddle pommel. At the same time he cinched something else.

The cowpuncher's mount went down, its nose burrowing into the turf.

Lumpy was so taken by surprise that he had no time to save himself. He shot over the pony's neck, landing flat on his back several feet in advance of the pony's nose.

The watching cowboys set up a jeering yell.

Lumpy scrambled to his feet, his face purple with rage.

"You tenderfoot!" shrieked Curley Adams. "To let the gopher rope you like a yearling steer!"

Chunky sat on his mount with blanched face, now realizing the enormity of his act.

"I--I didn't mean to do it," he stammered.

At first Lumpy did not know what had caused his pony to fall. But no sooner had he gotten to his feet than he comprehended. With a savage roar he sprang for the fat boy with quirt raised above his head, prepared to bring it down on Stacy Brown the instant he reached him.

The blow would have been bad enough had it been delivered in the ordinary way. The cowboy, however, had gasped the quirt by the small end and was preparing to use the loaded b.u.t.t on the head of the boy who had been the cause of his fall.

Tad had halted upon observing the accident, laughing uproariously at the spectacle of Lumpy Bates being roped by Stacy Brown.

When he saw the quirt in the hands of the cowpuncher, however, and realized what his purpose was, the laughter died on the lips of Tad Butler.

"Drop that quirt, Lumpy!" he commanded sternly.