Part 38 (2/2)

”Yes, that was a foul,” said the foreman. ”I saw it myself. How'd you come to do that, Bob?”

”Mistake,” answered the cowboy, thus admitting that they were right.

Tad turned on him sharply.

”Did you say it was a mistake?” he asked with a world of meaning in his tone.

”We will award the prize to you, Butler,” announced the owner of the ranch. ”That's the usual way when a foul has been committed.”

The cowboy glowered angrily.

”I couldn't think of accepting it, Mr. Jessup,” answered Tad, straightening to his full height. ”I'll go on with the contest, but he mustn't do that to me again or there will be trouble.”

Some of them laughed at the boy's veiled threat.

”There certainly will be trouble,” agreed Mr. Jessup--”trouble with me. I want you two to keep up the field further so we can see what is going on. Are you hurt, boy?”

”Shaken up a little that's all. Guess my saddle was worse used than I was.”

The contestants lined up for another bout, amid the most intense excitement. So closely had the spectators gathered about them that the ropers had no room in which to work, and the foreman found it necessary to urge them back before giving the word to start.

The Pony Rider Boys could scarcely contain themselves. They, too, were worked up to a high pitch of excitement. But Tad Butler, dirty, with clothes torn and grimy, appeared to be the coolest one in the crowd. If he was angry no one would have imagined it from the pleasant expression of his face and almost laughing eyes.

”All ready! Go!”

They went at each other again, the cowboy ferociously--Tad easily, but keenly on the alert, narrowly watching every move of his opponent.

Round and round circled the pair, neither making an effort to cast for at least ten minutes, ducking, side stepping, or as near to this latter as a pony could get, and with movements much like those of boxers in a ring.

The crowd was offering advice and suggestions freely, but both men turned a deaf ear to all of this. Their whole beings were centered on the work in hand.

Once both men cast and their lariats locked, the cowboy's loop having slipped over Tad's.

The foreman called a halt while he untied the tangle. The instant this had been accomplished, Tad drew in his with one hand, coiling it at the pony's side.

”Remember, I haven't called time,” warned the foreman. ”You are still roping.”

Tad knew that, but he did not wish to take an unfair advantage.

The cowboy looked up with a startled expression on his face, but nodded and began hauling in his rope when he noted that Tad was making no move.

His rope was in.

”All ready,” he said.

So was Tad. The boy's lariat shot gracefully through the air, landing neatly over the cowman's shoulders where it was quickly jerked taut before the other fully realized what had happened.

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