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"That's where you have the best of me," laughed Tad. "No fives for me. I get my pay out of the fun I am having. I think I am overpaid at that.
Well, so long, Big-foot," announced the lad as they finally reached the herd.
"So long," answered the cowman, turning his pony off to take the opposite side of the sleeping cattle. In a few moments Tad heard his strident voice singing to the herd again.
The hours pa.s.sed more quickly than had been the case the last time Tad was on guard, for he had much to think of and to wonder over.
Daybreak had arrived almost before he knew it and the call for breakfast sounded across the plain.
As soon as he had been relieved, Tad Butler galloped back to camp, bright-eyed and full of antic.i.p.ation, both for the meal and for the ride that was before them that day.
Corn cakes were on the bill of fare that morning and the Pony Riders shouted with glee when they discovered what Pong had prepared for them.
"Bring on the black strap," called Stallings.
Stacy Brown glanced at the foreman suspiciously.
"Why do you want a black strap for breakfast?" he demanded.
"To put on the corn cakes of course, boy," laughed Stallings.
"I've heard of using a black strap to hitch horses with----"
"And to correct unruly boys," added Professor Zepplin.
"But I never did hear of eating it on corn cakes."
Everybody laughed at Chunky's objection.
"You will eat this strap when you see it," answered Stallings, taking a jug from the hands of the Chinaman and pouring some of its contents over the cakes on his plate.
"What is it!" asked Ned Rector.
"Mola.s.ses. It's what we call black strap. Help yourselves. Never mind the gopher there. He never eats black straps for breakfast," the foreman jeered.
"Here, I want some of that," demanded Stacy, half-rising and reaching for the jug. "My, but it's good!" he decided with his mouth full.
"That's all right," answered Walter. "But please do not forget that there are some others in this outfit who like cakes and mola.s.ses. Please pa.s.s that jug this way."
"Yes, the pony won't be able to carry him to-day if he keeps on for ten minutes more, at the rate he's been going," laughed Ned Rector. "I never did have any sort of use for a glutton."
"Neither did I," added Chunky solemnly, at which both Pony Riders and cowboys roared with laughter.
"Going to be another scorcher," decided the foreman, rising and surveying the skies critically. "We shall not be able to make very good time, I fear."
"When do you expect to reach the Nueces River?" asked the Professor.
"I had hoped to get there by to-morrow. However, it doesn't look as if we should be able to do so if it comes off so hot."
"Is the Nueces a large river?" asked Walter.
"Sometimes. And it is a lively stream when there happens to be a freshet and both forks are pouring a flood down into it. We will try to bed down near the river and you boys can have some sport swimming. Do all of you swim?"
"Yes," they chorused.
"That's good. The cowpunchers will have a time of it, too."
"I can float," Stacy Brown informed him eagerly.
"So could I if I were as fat as you. I could float all day," retorted Ned Rector. "You couldn't sink if you were to fill your pockets with stones. There is some advantage in being fat, anyway."
"He didn't seem to float the day he fell in among the steers," said one of the cowboys.
"That isn't fair," interrupted Stallings. "The steers put the gopher under, that day. Any of you would have gone down with a mob of cows piling on top of you."
"The river is near the church you were telling me about, isn't it?"
inquired Tad of Big-foot in a low tone.
Sanders nodded solemnly.
Tad's eyes sparkled eagerly. He finished his breakfast rather hurriedly and rose from the table. As he walked away he met the horse wrangler bringing the day ponies. The lad quickly saddled his own mount after a lively little struggle and much squealing and bucking from the pony.
Tad was eager to reach the river and get sight of the mysterious church beyond. Yet, he did not dream of the thrilling experiences that were awaiting them all at the very doors of the church of San Miguel.
CHAPTER XIII
CHUNKY ROPES A COWBOY
"Wow! Help! Help!"
The herd had been moving on for several hours, grazing comfortably along the trail, when the sudden yell startled the entire outfit.
The cowboys reined in their ponies and grasped their quirts firmly, fully expecting that another stampede was before them.
Instead, they saw Stacy Brown riding away from the herd, urging his pony to its best speed. Right behind him, with lowered head and elevated tail was a white muley, evidently chasing the lad.
What the boy had done to thus enrage the animal no one seemed to know.
However, it was as pretty a race as they had seen thus far on the drive.
"Point him back! He can't hurt you!" shouted the foreman.
Instead of obeying the command, Stacy brought down his quirt on the pony, causing the little animal to leap away across the plain in a straight line.
The cowboys were shouting with laughter at the funny spectacle.
"Somebody get after that steer!" roared the foreman. "The boy never will stop as long as the critter keeps following him, and we'll have the herd following them before we know it."