The Pony Rider Boys in Texas Part 24

Lumpy gave no heed to the command, but broke into a run for Stacy.

Tad, who was a few rods away, put spurs to his pony, at the same time slipping off the lariat from the other side of his saddle.

"The Pinto's going to rope him," gasped the cowboys. All were too far away to be of any a.s.sistance. Stallings was with another part of the herd, else he would have jumped in and interfered before Tad's action had become necessary.

Tad's pony leaped forward under the pressure of the spurs. The boy began spinning the noose of the lariat above his head.

The cowboys were watching in breathless suspense.

Tad sent the loop squirming through the air, turning his pony so as to run parallel with the one on which Stacy was sitting, half paralyzed with fear, as he gazed into the rage-contorted face of Lumpy Bates.

As the quirt was descending, Tad's rope slipped over the cowboy's head and under one arm. This time, however, the lad did not cinch the rope over his saddle pommel. He held it firmly in his hand, with a view to letting go after it had served its purpose, having no desire to injure his victim.

Lumpy Bates went over as if he had been bowled over with a club, and before he had realized the meaning of it he had been dragged several feet.

Tad jerked his pony up sharply and slowly rode back to where his victim was desperately struggling to free himself.

"Y-e-e-e-o-ow!" screamed the cowboys, circling about the scene, their ponies on a dead run, discharging their six-shooters into the air, giving cat calls and wild war-whoops in the excess of their joy.

Big-foot Sanders, however, had not joined in their merriment. Instead, he had ridden up within a couple of rods of where Lumpy Bates was lying.

Big-foot sat quietly on his pony, awaiting the outcome.

At last Lumpy tore off the lariat's grip and scrambled to his feet. He glared about him to see whence had come this last indignity.

"I did it, Lumpy," announced Tad Butler quietly.

"You----"

"Wait a minute before you tell me what you are going to do," commanded Tad. "Chunky did not mean to throw you. He was trying to rope the steer.

He'll tell you he is sorry. But you were going to hit him because you were mad. If you'd struck him with the b.u.t.t of that quirt you might have killed him. I had to rope you to prevent that. Is there anything you want to say to me now?"

"I'll show you what I've got to say," snarled the cowboy, starting for Tad.

"Stop! Lumpy Bates, if you come another foot nearer to me I'll ride you down!" warned Tad, directing a level gaze at the eyes of his adversary.

The cowboy gazed defiantly at the slender lad for a full moment.

"I'll fix you for that!" he growled, turning away.

At that moment Big-foot Sanders rode in front of him and pulled up his pony.

"What's that ye say?"

"Nothing--I said I'd be even with that cub."

"I reckon ye'd better not try it, Lumpy. The kid's all right. Big-foot Sanders is his friend. And that's the truth. Don't let it get away from you!"

CHAPTER XIV

ON A WILD NIGHT RIDE

"Your fat friend, over there, is making queer noises, Master Tad. Must be having a bad dream."

Big-foot had reached a ponderous hand from his blankets and shaken Tad roughly.

"Mebby the gopher's having a fit. Better find out what ails him."

The rain was falling in torrents. The men were soaked to the skin, but it did not seem to disturb them in the least, judging by the quality of their snores.

Tad listened. Stacy Brown surely was having trouble of some sort. The lad threw off his blankets and ran over to where his companion was lying.

"Chunky's drowning," he exclaimed in a voice full of suppressed excitement.

Big-foot leaped to his feet, hurrying to the spot.

Stacy was lying in a little depression in the ground, a sort of puddle having formed about him, and when Tad reached him the lad had turned over on his face, only the back part of his head showing above the water. He appeared to be struggling, but unable to free himself from his unpleasant position.

They jerked him up choking and coughing, shaking him vigorously to get the water out of him.

"Wha--what's the matter!" stammered the boy.

"Matter enough. Trying to drown yourself?" growled the cowboy.

"Di--did I fall in?"

"Did you fall in? Where do you think you are?"

"I--I thought I fell in the river and I was trying to swim out,"

answered the boy, with a sheepish grin that caused his rescuers to shake with merriment.

"Guess we'll have to get a life preserver for you," chuckled Big-foot.

"You ain't safe to leave around when the dew is falling."

"Dew? Call this dew? This is a flood."

"Go find a high piece of ground, and go to bed. We haven't got time to lie awake watching you. Be careful that you don't step on any of the bunch. They ain't likely to wake up in very good humor a night like this, and besides, Lumpy Bates is sleeping not more'n a rope's length from you. You can imagine what would happen if you stepped on his face to-night."

Chunky s.h.i.+vered slightly. He had had one experience with the ill-natured cowpuncher that day and did not care for another.

"I'll go to bed," he chattered.

"You'd better. What's that?" exclaimed the cowpuncher sharply, pausing in a listening att.i.tude.

"Some one coming," answered Tad. "They seem to be in a hurry."