"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 antic.i.p.ation 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 pa.s.sed 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.

CHAPTER XIX