al's buckings observantly.

"What--what happened?" demanded Stallings.

"Foot slipped out of the stirrup."

"Think you can make it?"

"I'll try it, if you have the time to spare."

"It takes time to break a bronch. Don't you worry about that. I don't
want you to be breaking your neck, however."

"My advice is that you keep off that animal," declared Professor
Zepplin. "You cannot manage him; that is plain."

"Please do not say that, Professor. I must ride him now. You wouldn't
have me be a coward, would you?"

Stallings, realizing the boy's position, nodded slightly to the
Professor.

"Very well, if Mr. Stallings thinks it is safe," agreed Professor
Zepplin reluctantly.

Tad's face lighted up with a satisfied smile.

"Whoa, boy," he soothed, patting the animal gently on the neck.

The pony's back arched and its heels shot up into the air again. Once
more Tad petted him.

"No use," said the foreman. "The iron hand is the only thing that will
break this cayuse. Don't know enough to know when he's well off. Got
your spurs on?"

"Yes."

"Then drive them in when you get well seated."

Tad shook his head.

"I do not think that will be necessary. Guess he'll go fast enough
without urging him with the rowels," answered the boy, backing away to
wait until the pony had bounced itself into a position where another
effort to mount him would be possible.

"Will you please coil up the stake rope and fasten it to the horn, Mr.
Stallings?" asked Tad. "I don't want to get tangled up with that thing."

"Yes, if you are sure you can stick on him."

"Leave that to me. I know his tricks now."

Cautiously the rope was coiled and made fast to the saddle horn.

"I'm coming," said Tad in a quiet, tense voice.

"Ready," answered the foreman, with equal quietness.

The lad darted forward, running on his toes, his eyes fixed on the
saddle.

Tad gave no heed to the pony. It was that heavy bobbing saddle that he
must safely make before the pony itself would enter into his
considerations.

Lightly touching the saddle, he bounded into it, at the same time
shoving both feet forward. Fortunately his shoes slipped into the big,
boxed stirrups, and the rein which lay over the pommel ready for him was
quickly gathered up.

Stallings leaped from the animal's head and the cowpunchers made a quick
sprint to remove themselves from the danger zone.

They were none too soon.

The broncho at last realized that his head was