"I can try."
"All right. Go ahead. Be careful that you don"t turn back any of the other brands, though. Above all, look out for yourself."
Tad galloped back to his companions, his face flushed, the dust standing out on his blue shirt, turning it almost gray.
"Keep this herd up, fellows," he shouted. "I"m going to try my hand at cutting out."
Fortunately, the pony understood what was wanted of it, and, the moment it had located an animal which it was desired to cut out, the pony went at the work with a will. Tad, triumphant and warm, rode out driving a Diamond D steer ahead of him, applying his quirt vigorously to the animal"s rump until he had landed it safely in the ranks of the main herd.
Again and again had the boy ridden in among the cattle, seemingly taking no account of the narrow escapes both rider and pony were having from the sharp horns of the long-legged Mexican cattle.
One big, white fellow gave the lad more trouble than all the rest that he had cut out, and when once Tad had run him out into the open the perspiration was dripping from his face.
But his battle was not yet won. The steer, for some reason best known to itself, did not wish to return to its own herd. It fought every inch of the way, wearing down pony and rider until they were almost exhausted.
Tad Butler"s blood was up, however. He set his jaw stubbornly and plunged into the work before him.
Bob Stallings, shooting a glance in the boy"s direction understood what he had in hand, for the foreman had made the acquaintance of this same steer himself, earlier on the drive.
The lad had worried the animal nearly to its own herd, after half an hour"s struggle, when, despite all his efforts, it broke away and dashed back toward the mixed bunch.
"I"ll get him if it"s the last thing I ever do," vowed the boy.
A rawhide lariat hung from his saddle bow, and though he had practised with the rope on other occasions, he did not consider himself an expert with it. He had watched the cowboys in their use of it and knew how they threw a cow with the rope.
On the spur of the moment Tad decided to use the lariat.
Lifting it in his right hand and swinging the great loop high above his head, he dashed up to the running steer, and when near enough to take a cast, let go of the loop.
It fell over the horns of the white animal as neatly as a cowboy could have placed it there.
The coil ran out in a flash; yet quick as the boy was, he found himself unable to take a hitch around the pommel of his saddle with the free end.
The running steer straightened the rope and Tad shot from his saddle still clinging desperately to the line.
CHAPTER VI
TAD TAKES A DESPERATE CHANCE
When the freckle-faced boy took his unexpected plunge, it chanced that neither cowboys nor Pony Riders were looking his way.
No one knew of his plight.
As he felt the line running through his hand, Tad Butler had given it a quick hitch around his right wrist, so that when the rope drew taut, and the pony braced itself to meet the shock, the lad fairly flew through the air.
The white steer had been headed for the mixed bunch which the Pony Riders were guarding. With the stubbornness of its kind, it wheeled about the instant it felt the tug on the rope and dashed for the main herd, Tad"s body ploughing up the dust as he trailed along at a fearful pace behind the wild animal, whirling over and over in his rapid flight.
The lad"s eyes were so full of sand dust that he was unable to see where he was going. He had slight realization of the peril that confronted him.
"Look! Look!" cried Walter Perkins.
"What is it?" cried Ned Rector.
"What"s that the steer is dragging?"
"I don"t know."
"And there"s Tad"s pony standing out there alone," added Walter.
"You--you don"t think Tad----"
"As I"m alive, it is Tad! He is being dragged by the steer. He"ll be killed! Watch this herd, I am going after him!" shouted Ned, putting spurs to his pony and dashing toward the main herd.
At that moment the white steer, trailing its human burden, rushed in among the other cattle and was soon lost among them.
Ned did not dare to set up a loud shout of warning for fear of frightening the cattle. However, he was waving his hat and excitedly trying to attract the attention of some of the cowmen.
They were too busy to give any heed to him.
Ned drove his pony in among the struggling cattle with no thought of his own danger.
The cowmen were roping and rushing the stock that did not belong to them. As it chanced, however, most of them were working at the upper end, or head of the herd.
The foreman, for some reason, had galloped down the line, casting his eyes keenly over the herd. Instantly he noticed that something was wrong, though just what it was, he was unable to decide. Then his eyes caught the figure of Ned Rector, the center of a sea of moving backs and tossing horns. The boy was standing in his stirrups still swinging his sombrero above his head.
It took the foreman but an instant to decide what to do. Wheeling his pony, he fairly dived into the ma.s.s of cattle, lashing to the right and left of him with his ready quirt, the cattle resentfully shaking threatening heads at pony and rider and making efforts to reach them with their sharp-pointed horns.
"What is it?" shouted Stallings after he had ridden in far enough to make his voice reach Ned Rector.
"It"s Tad!"
"What about him?"
"He"s in there," answered Ned, pointing.
"Where? What do you mean?"
"I don"t know. It"s the white steer. He dragged him."
Stallings thought he understood. He had seen the lad working with the unruly animal only a few moments before.
"What"s the trouble--did the boy rope him?" shouted the foreman.
Ned nodded.
"He"ll be trampled to death!" snapped the foreman, rising high in his stirrups and looking over the herd. There were several white steers in the bunch, but the one in question was so much larger than the others that Stallings thought he would have no difficulty in picking out the animal. Not finding him at once, the foreman fired two shots in the air to attract the attention of the cowboys. Three of them soon were seen working their way in.