The Pony Rider Boys in Texas (17 page)

"Got springs in his feet, I reckon," grinned Big-foot.

"Don't let his head down till you're ready for the get-away," cautioned the
foreman.

Tad suddenly allowed the head to touch the ground, after the pony had lain
pinned at his feet, breathing hard for a full minute.

Boy and mount were in the air in a twinkling. As they went up, Ted brought
down his quirt with all his strength. It was time the ugly animal was taught
that its enemy could strike a blow for himself.

With a quick pause, as if in surprise, the beast shot its head back to fasten
its teeth in the leg of the rider. Tad had jerked his leg away as he saw the
movement, with the result that only part of his leggin came away between the
teeth of the savage animal.

Crack!

Down came the quirt again.

The broncho's head straightened out before him with amazing quickness. He was
beginning to fear as well as hate the human being who so persistently sat his
back and tortured him.

The pony sprang into the air.

"They're off!" shouted the cowboys.

With amazing quickness the animal lunged ahead, paused suddenly, then shot
across the plain in a series of leaps and twists.

Tad shook out the rein, at the same time giving a gentle pressure to the
rowels of his spurs.

Maddened almost beyond endurance, the pony started at a furious pace, not
pausing until more than a mile had been covered. When he did bring up it was
with disconcerting suddenness.

"Whoa, boy!" soothed Tad, patting the little animal on the neck. Again the
wide-open mouth reached for the lad's left leg. But this time Tad pressed in the
spurs on the right side. The pony tried to bite that way, whereat its rider
spurred it on the left side.

This was continued until, at least, in sheer desperation, the animal started
again to run. He found that he was not interfered with in this effort. However,
when he sought to unseat his rider by brushing against the trunk of a large
tree, he again felt the sting of the quirt on his flank.

Gradually Tad now began to work the animal around. After a time he succeeded
in doing this, and was soon headed for camp. They bore down, at great speed, to
where the cowboys were swinging their hats and setting up a shout that carried
far over the plain.

Tad's face was flushed with pride. Yet he did not allow himself for an
instant to forget his work. The lad's whole attention was centered on the pony
under him. He was determined to make a grand finish that, while exhibiting his
horsemanship, would at the same time give the pony a lesson not soon to be
forgotten.

"You've got him!" cried Ned Rector as Tad approached, now at a gallop, the
animal's ears lying back angrily.

"Don't be too sure," answered Big-foot. "See them ears? That means more
trouble."

It came almost before the words were out of the cowpuncher's mouth.

The broncho stiffened, its hoofs ploughing little trails in the soft dirt of
the plain as it skidded to a stop. The jolt might have unhorsed Tad Butler had
he not been expecting it from some indications that he read in the animal's
actions.

Suddenly settling back on its haunches, the broncho rolled over on its side.
Tad, with a grin, stepped off a few paces, taking with him, however, the coil of
rope, one end of which was still fastened around the beast's neck.

With a snort and a bound, realizing that it was free at last, the little
animal leaped to its feet and darted away.

Tad moved swiftly to the right, so as not to get a tug on the rope over the
back of the pony.

The coil was running out over his hands like a thing of life. Grasping the
end firmly, the lad shook out the rest of the rope, leaning back until it was
almost taut.

By this time the animal was running almost at right angles to him.

Tad gave the rope a quick rolling motion just as it was being drawn taut. The
result was as surprising as it was sudden. The animal's four feet were snipped
from under it neatly, sending the broncho to earth with a disheartening
bump.

Without giving it a chance to rise, Tad sprang upon it, and, when the pony
rose, Tad Butler was sitting proudly in the saddle.

The little beast's head went down. Its proud spirit had been broken by a boy
who knew the ways of the stubborn animal.

A great shout of approval went up from cowpunchers and Pony Riders. They had
never seen a breaking done more skillfully.

Tad's gloved hand patted the neck of the subdued animal affectionately.

"I'm sorry I had to be rough with you, old boy, but you shall have a lump of
sugar. We're going to be great friends, now, I know."

"Welcome to the Ox Bow, young gentlemen," greeted Colonel McClure.

The rancher and his wife were waiting at the lower end of the lawn as the
Pony Rider Boys, accompanied by Professor Zepplin, rode up on the following
afternoon.

The lads wore their regulation plainsman's clothes, but for this occasion
coats had been put on and hair combed, each desiring to look his best, as they
were to meet the young ladies of the ranch.

"We owe you an apology, sir, for appearing in this condition," announced the
Professor.

"Master Butler and myself have already settled that question," answered the
rancher. "As Henry Ward Beecher once said, 'Clothes don't make the man, but when
he is made he looks very well dressed up.' I must say, however, that these young
men are about as likely a lot of lads as I have ever seen."

Clear-eyed, their faces tanned almost to a copper color, figures erect and
shoulders well back, the Pony Rider Boys were indeed wholesome to look upon.
Perhaps Sadie and Margaret McClure were not blind to this, for they blushed very
prettily, the boys thought, upon being presented to their guests. Ruth Brayton
was in a sunny mood, laughing gayly as she chatted with the boys.

Tad glanced at her inquiringly. She was not the same girl that he had met the
day before. There was a difference in the eyes, too. Tad could not understand
the change. It perplexed him.

Colonel McClure took the Professor off to his study, the boys being left with
Mrs. McClure and the young ladies to wander through the grounds and chat. Each
of the young women was an accomplished horsewoman, and therefore evinced a keen
interest in the experiences of the boys since they had been in saddle.

"I had so often wanted to take a trip through the Rockies on horseback,"
announced Miss Margaret.

"I am afraid you would find it rather rough going," said Ned Rector.

"No worse than the plains," replied Walter. "We have had more hardships in
Texas during the short time we have been here than we ever experienced in the
mountains."

"Yes; but you were driving cattle," objected Mrs. McClure. "There probably is
no harder work in the world. We, down here, know something about that."

"II killed a bobcat up in the mountains," Stacy Brown informed them, with
enthusiasm.

"Indeed," smiled Mrs. McClure indulgently.

"He did. And I fell off a mountain," laughed Walter Perkins. "You see we have
had quite a series of experiences."

"Indeed you have. How long do you expect to remain with the herd? Are you
going through with them?"

"I believe not," answered Tad Butler. "I think we shall be leaving very soon
now. We have a lot of traveling to do yet, as it has been planned that we shall
see a good deal of the country before it is time to return to school this
fall."

"And you are to remain out in the openin the saddle all summer?" asked Miss
Brayton, her eyes sparkling almost enviously.

"Yes; I believe so."

"I should love it."

"We are getting to love it ourselves. It will be hard to have to sleep
indoors again."

Shortly afterwards all were summoned in to supper. Stacy Brown's eyes
sparkled with anticipation as he surveyed the table resplendent with silver and
cut glassloaded, too, with good things to eat.

Ned Rector observed the look in his companion's eyes.

"Now, don't forget that we are not eating off the tail board of the chuck
wagon, Chunky," he whispered in passing. "Be as near human as you can and
satisfy your appetite."

Chunky's face flushed.

"Take your advice to yourself," he muttered.

Colonel McClure proved an entertaining host, and the boys were led on to talk
about themselves during most of the meal. Especially were their hosts interested
in the story of the discovery of the Lost Claim, which the boys had found on
their trip in the Rockies.

"I have wanted to ask you about the old church between here and camp, Mr.
McClure," said Tad at the first opportunity.

"Very interesting old ruin, sir," answered the host. "Built by the Mexicans
more than a hundred years ago."

"Yes, so I understand."

"Is it true that there's spooks in that place?" interrupted Stacy.

Everybody laughed. Tad glanced sharply at Ruth Brayton. He noticed a curious
flush on her face, and the strained look that he had observed in her eyes on the
previous day was again there. Almost the instant he caught it it was gone.

"I'm afraid you have been misinformed, Master Stacy," answered Colonel
McClure.

"How about the trouble that the cattle men experience when near the place?"
spoke up Ned Rector. "The cowmen are sure there is something in the story."

"Nothing at allnothing at all. Just a mere coincidence. We live here and we
have no more than the usual run of ill luck with our stock."

"Stampedes?" asked Tad.

"Seldom anything of that sort. You see our stock is held by wire fences. If
they want to stampede we let themlet them run until they are tired of it."

"I should like to explore the old church," said Tad, again referring to the
subject uppermost in his mind.

"Nothing to hinder. Ruth, why can't you and the girls take the young men over
there to-morrow if the day is fine? You know the place and its history. I am
sure they would enjoy having you do so."

"We should be delighted," answered Ned Rector promptly.

"We might make it a picnic," suggested Margaret McClure.

"And have things to eat?" asked Stacy, evincing a keen interest in the
proposal.

"Of course," smiled Mrs. McClure. "A picnic would not be a picnic without a
spread on the ground. I will send some of the servants over to serve the picnic
lunch."

"Thank you," smiled Tad gratefully. "It will be a happy afternoon for all of
us if Miss Brayton can find the time to take us."

"Of course Ruth will go," nodded Mrs. McClure.

"Yes," answered the young woman. "What time shall we arrange to start,
auntie?"

"Say eleven o'clock, if that will suit the young men."

"Perfectly," answered Tad.

"You might first take a gallop to the Springs. That will give you all an
appetite."

"Where are the Springs?" asked Ned.

"About seven miles to the eastward of the ranch. A most picturesque place,"
answered Colonel McClure. "Professor, while the young people are enjoying
themselves, suppose you ride over here and spend the afternoon with me? We can
ride about the ranch if it would please you."

"I should be delighted."

"I was going to suggest, too, that it might be a pleasant relief for all of
you to accept the hospitality of the Ox Bow ranch and remain here while you are
in the vicinity. We have room to spare and would be glad to have you."

"I am afraid the young men would prefer to remain in camp, thank you. They
will get enough of sleeping in beds upon their return home, discourteous as the
statement may seem," answered Professor Zepplin.

"Not at allnot at all. I understand you perfectly. I shall not press the
point. But spend all the time you can with us. The place is yours. Make
yourselves at home."

"No; Mr. Stallings would not like it if we were to remain away over night.
You see, he expects us to do our share of night guard duty," explained Tad. "We
are earning our keep as it were."

The boys laughed.

"That is, some of us are," corrected Ned, with a sly glance at Stacy, who was
eating industriously. "Others are eating for their keep."

The Pony Rider Boys caught the hidden meaning in his words, but they tried
not to let their hosts observe that it was a joke at the expense of one of
them.

"Stallings," murmured Miss Brayton, her eyes staring vacantly at Tad
Butler.

Tad flushed at the memory of what he had heard on his first visit to the
ranch.

Miss Brayton excused herself rather abruptly and left the room. They did not
see her again that evening.

"My niece has been ailing of late," explained Mrs. McClure.

"Perhaps she had better not try to accompany us to-morrow, then," suggested
Tad.

"Oh, yes, I wish her to. It will do her goodit will take her mind from
herself."

Tad Butler noted the last half of the sentence particularly. For him it held
a deeper meaning than it did for his companions.

"I wonder if she knows Mr. Stallings," mused Tad. "I'm going to find out. No,
I won't. It's none of my business. Still, it will do no harm to ask him, or to
mention the name to him. That surely would not be wrong."

Under the charm of the evening his mind soon drifted into other channels.
After supper games were brought out and a happy evening followed.

Ten o'clock came, and Professor Zepplin, glancing at his watch, was about to
propose a return to camp, when one of Colonel McClure's cowboys appeared in the
doorway, hat in hand.

"Beg pardon; may I speak with you a moment?" asked the man.

"Certainly," replied the colonel, with the same gracious manner, Tad
observed, that he used toward his guests. "Excuse me a moment."

After a little their host returned, but rather hurriedly, it seemed, and
Tad's keen eyes noticed that he seemed disturbed.