dently 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."

"I'll go, if you wish," said Tad Butler.

"Then go ahead. Got your rope?"

"Yes."

"It'll be good practice for you."

Tad was off like a shot, leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

"That boy's got the making of a great cowpuncher in him," said the
foreman, nodding his head approvingly.

Tad's pony was the swifter of the two, and besides, he was riding on an
oblique line toward the runaway outfit.

It was the first opportunity the lad had had to show off his skill as a
cowman, for none had seen his pointing of the herd on the night of the
stampede. He was burning with impatience to get within roping distance
of the steer before they got so far away that the cowmen would be unable
to see the performance.

"Pull up and turn him, Chunky," called Tad.

"I can't."

"Why not? Turn in a half circle, then I shall be able to catch up with
you sooner."

"Can't. The muley won't stop long enough for me to turn around."

Tad laughed aloud. He now saw that it was to be a race between the steer
and his own pony. The odds, however, were in favor of the steer, for
Stacy Brown was pacing him at a lively gait, and Tad was still some
distance behind.

The latter's pony was straining every muscle to overhaul the muley. Tad
finally slipped the lariat from the saddle bow. Swinging the great loop
above his head, he sent it squirming through the air. At that instant
the muley changed its course a little and the rope missed its mark by
several feet. Now it was dragging behind the running pony.

By this time Tad had fallen considerably behind. He took up the race
again with stubborn determination.

Coiling the rope as he rode on, he made another throw.

The noose fell fairly over the head of the muley steer, this time.
Profiting by a previous experience, the lad took a quick turn about the
pommel of the s