osition was a different one. Both boys
were in dire peril, as Tad well knew. At any second the cat might
spring, either at him or at Stacy. And neither boy had a gun in
his hands.

Tad's mind worked with lightning-like rapidity. It was a time for quick
thinking if one expected to save one's skin from being torn by those
needle-like claws. Butler thought of a plan. He did not know whether
there were one chance in a million of the plan working. He wanted that
lion a great deal more than the lion wanted him. He was going to take
a desperate chance. An older and more experienced man might not have
cared to try what Tad Butler was about to attempt.

The Pony Rider boy's hand slipped down to the lasso hanging from his
belt. He was thankful that he had that. The lasso was always there
except when he was in the saddle, when it was usually looped over the
pommel.

"Chunky, yell! Make all the noise you can."

"I am. Wow-ow-wow. Y-e-o-w wow!"

"That's right, keep it up. Don't stop. Make faces at him, make believe
you're going to jump at-----"

"Say, anybody would think this were a game of croquet and that I was
trying to make the other fellow miss the wicket. Don't you think-----"

"I'm trying to get you to attract his attention-----"

"I don't want to attract his attention. I want the beast to look the
other way," wailed the fat boy. "I want to get out of here."

"Well, why haven't you?"

"I dassent."

While carrying on this conversation with his chum, Tad was watching the
cat narrowly. The animal was showing signs of greater excitement now.
The boy decided that the beast was preparing to jump one way or
another---which way was a matter of some concern to both boys at that
particular instant.

The cat took two long paces in Stacy's direction. Stacy emitted the
most blood-curdling yell Tad had ever heard. It served Butler's very
purpose. The beast halted with one hind foot poised in the air, glaring
at Stacy, who was howling more lustily than ever.

Swish!

Tad's lariat shot through the air. His aim was true, his hand steady
and cool.

CHAPTER XVII

THE WHIRLWIND BALL OF YELLOW

When the startled cat felt the touch of the raw-hide rope against its
leg it made a tremendous leap straight ahead.

"Too late!" clicked Tad. "That loop is taut on you now!"

"M-m-murder! Look out!" bellowed Stacy.

For the cat's leap had carried it straight at the fat boy. In fact one
sharp set