ng disconsolately
on his pony near where the conference was being held, having been
roundly scored by every cowboy in the outfit.

The foreman motioned him to ride over to him.

"Young man, can you carry a message back to camp and get it straight!"

Stacy thought he could.

"Then go back and tell the heathen to pack up his belongings and come
on. There will be no more eating done in this outfit till we have cut
out that new bunch. Tell the driver to be ready to move when he sees us
start. We'll get in a few miles before dark, yet, if we have good luck."

Stacy rode away full of importance to deliver the foreman's order.

Then the cutting out began. Cowboy after cowboy dashed into the herd
coming out usually with his pony pressing against the side of an
unwilling steer and pushing him along in the right direction by main
force.

And here was where the Pony Riders made themselves useful. As an animal
was cut out, the boys would ride in behind it and worry the steer along
until they had gotten it a safe distance to the west of the main herd.

"There's a Diamond D steer in that bunch," Tad informed one of the
cowpunchers as he rushed a big, white steer out.

"Never mind; we'll trim the mixed outfit after we get more of the bunch
out," answered the cowboy, riding back into the herd.

While doing the cutting out the men also drove out the few cattle that
had strayed into the herd earlier in the journey.

For three hours this grilling work had kept up, the perspiring cowboys
yelling, their ponies squealing under the terrific punishment they were
getting from both riders and steers.

But in the excitement of their own work, the Pony Riders had had little
time in which to observe what the cowmen were doing.

Tad thought of a plan by which he might assist them further. So he
galloped his pony over to the edge of the main herd and waited until the
foreman dashed out with two red, fighting steers, which he gave a lively
start on their way to join the mixed herd.

"Mr. Stallings, may I cut back some of the Diamond D animals in the
mixed herd?" he asked.

"Think you can do it, kid?"

"I can try."

"All right. Go ahead. Be careful that you don't turn back any of the
other brands, though. Above all, look out for yourself."

Tad galloped back to his companions, his face flushed, the dust standing
out on his blue shirt, turning it almost gray.

"Keep this herd up, fellows," he shouted. "I'm going to try my hand at