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Pony Rider Boys in Texas, The

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<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> <h3>BREAKING IN THE BRONCHOS</h3> "My, but that was a job," laughed Tad, after they had reached camp again, with three wild bronchos in tow. They had staked the new ponies down on the plain to think matters over while the cowboys sat down to their noon meal. "They sure are a bad lot," agreed Big-foot Sanders. "Never seen worse ones. See that fellow, over there, don't even mind the pinch of that hackmore bridle. He's the ugliest brute in the bunch." "That's the one I'm going to break," decided Tad Butler, his eyes glowing as he observed the wild pitching and snorting of the staked animal. The pony was running the length of his rope at full speed, coming to a sudden halt when he reached its end, with heels high in the air and head doubled up under him on the ground. It seemed to the lad like unnecessarily harsh treatment, yet he knew full well the quality of the temper of these animals of the plains. "I'm afraid he'll break his neck," objected Tad. "Let him," snapped the foreman. "There's more where he came from." "By the way," said Tad, speaking to the Pony Riders. "I have an invitation for you fellows. I had forgotten it in the excitement of getting the new ponies to camp." "Where to!" asked Ned Rector indifferently. "To take dinner at the home of Colonel McClure." "That will be fine," glowed Walter. "But the question is, what are we going to wear?" laughed Tad. "We don't look very beautiful for a drawing room." "Drawing room?" inquired Ned Rector, with interest. "Did I hear you say drawing room?" "Yes." "Huh! There isn't one within a thousand miles of us." "You will think differently when you see the one at the ranch house." "Did—did the colonel say what we were going to have to eat?" asked Stacy Brown, in all seriousness. His question provoked a loud laugh from cowboys and Pony Riders. "No. Naturally, I didn't ask him. There are some very nice girls at the ranch, too." "You don't say!" exclaimed Ned. "Will wonders never cease? I'll believe I am not dreaming when I see all this with my own two eyes." "Yes, Colonel McClure has two daughters, and besides these, there is a niece from the East visiting them. She is considerably older than the daughters, but a very beautiful woman." Tad paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Professor, I presume you will have no objection to our accepting Colonel McClure's invitation? You are invited to join us." "Not at all, young gentlemen. But perhaps I had better not intrude——" "Please go," urged Tad. "Sure. He'll go. You will, won't you, Professor?" demanded Ned. "Of course, if you really wish me to——" smiled Professor Zepplin good-naturedly. "Of course we do," chorused the boys. "Very well, I will think it over. I'm afraid, however, that I do not look altogether presentable." "No more do we," answered Walter Perkins. "Tad probably told them we did not." Tad nodded. "They refused to accept that excuse. So I told them we would come." The boys were full of anticipation for this promised break in the monotony of their living; and, besides, they looked forward keenly to meeting the young women about whom their companion had told them. After the meal had been finished Tad asked when they were to begin breaking the new stock. Stallings looked over the ponies critically. "I guess we'll let them stay where they are, for an hour or so yet. It will help to break their spirit. Still think you can break one of them in?" "I am sure of it," answered Tad Butler confidently. "You shall have the chance. However, I shall not permit you to saddle him. Some of the cowpunchers, who are used to that, had better do it for you the first time. Unless one knows these little brutes he is liable to be kicked to death." "I am not afraid." "No, that is the danger of it. Neither is the pony afraid—that is, not until he is blindfolded." About the middle of the afternoon the foreman announced that they would begin the breaking. The cowmen uttered a shout, for the process promised them much boisterous fun. "Is the gopher going to break one of the bronchos?" asked Lumpy Bates. "No, but the Pinto is," replied Curley Adams. "He'll want to go home right away if he tries it, I reckon," jeered Lumpy. "Don't you be too sure about that," retorted Curley. "That kid's got the stuff in him. I've been watching him right along. None of them lads is tenderfeet, unless it's the gopher, and he isn't half as bad as he looks." By this time the foreman had taken hold of the rope that held the most violent of the ponies, and was slowly shortening upon it. As he neared the pony's head a cowboy began whipping a blanket over its back. While the animal was plunging and kicking, Stallings gripped him by the bridle, after which there was a lively struggle, and in a moment more a broad handkerchief had been tied over the pony's eyes. "What's that for! Is he going to play blind man's buff?" demanded Chunky. "Huh! Get out!" growled Big-foot. "If he does, you'll be it," jeered Ned Rector. At last the animal crouched down trembling. He had never passed through an experience like that before and could not understand it. Tad Butler standing near, was observing the operation with keenly inquiring eyes. All at once the little animal leaped clear of the foreman's grip, its blinder came off and it launched into a series of wild bucks and grunts. The air seemed full of flying hoofs, and for the moment there was a lively scattering of cowpunchers and Pony Riders. Once more, and with great patience, the foreman went all over the proceeding again. This time the foreman got one hand on the animal's nose and the other in his mane. All at once something happened. A forty-pound saddle was thrown, not dropped, on the back of the unsuspecting pony. The broncho's back arched like a bow, and the saddle went skyward. Stacy Brown happened to be in the way of it as it descended, so that boy and saddle went down together in a yelling heap. The cowpunchers howled with delight as Chunky, covered with dust, wiping the sand from his eyes, staggered angrily to his feet. "Did he kick me?" he demanded. "With his back, yes," chuckled Shorty Savage. Again and again the saddle was shot into the air the instant it touched the pony's back. It was back in place in no time, however. After a time the broncho paused, as if to devise some new method of getting rid of the hated thing. As he did so, Big-foot Sanders cautiously poked a stick under the animal, pulling the girth toward him. A moment more and he had slipped it through a large buckle, and, with a jerk, made the girth fast. Again the bucking began, but more violently than before. The saddle held, though it slipped to one side a little. "I've got him now," cried Stallings. "The instant he lets up, catch that flank girth and make fast." "Right," answered Big-foot. It was accomplished almost before the boys realized it. Walter and his companions set up a shout. The pony stood panting, head down, legs braced apart. The blinder had been torn from his eyes. He was waiting for the next move. "Are you ready for me now?" asked Tad Butler quietly. The foreman turned his head, glancing at Tad questioningly. "Think you can stand it?" "I can't any more than fall off." Stallings nodded. Tad slipped to the pony's side. Cautiously placing his left foot in the stirrups, he suddenly flung himself into the saddle. The next instant Tad Butler was flying through the air over the pony's head. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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