Bud Merkel, not the
least of which was the remark of Babe Milton to the effect that the lad
on Tartar was Bud's cousin.

"Then the other must be, too," thought Bud as he swung his rope and
directed a quick glance at the fat lad now hugging the inner rails of
the corral fence. "But how'd they get here, and what made him try that
outlaw?"

However, this was no time to spend in asking oneself questions. There
was need of action, and it came a moment later.

Hissing and swishing through the air, the coils of Bud's lariat fell
around the neck of the plunging, rearing, running Tartar. In another
instant Bud had taken a turn or two around a post, and, by carefully
applying a snubbing pressure, the pony was brought to a stop.

"Get down--quick!" ordered Bud when the horse was quiet enough to
permit of this. And as the other lad obeyed, and shook himself
together, limping over toward Bud the latter asked: "Are you hurt?"

"Not a bit," was the laughing answer. "I could 'a' stuck on. He
couldn't throw me."

"Don't you fool yourself!" exclaimed Bud, while some of the cowboys
went into the corral and loosened his lariat from the neck of the now
subdued animal. Tartar, once the offending stranger was no longer on
his back, seemed normal. "Don't you fool yourself! You couldn't have
stayed on a second longer."

"Betcher I could!" came the quick response. "If you'll rope him
again----"

"Cut it out, Nort!" came from the fat lad, who looked enough like the
daring rider to be his brother, as, indeed, he was.

"Oh, let me alone, Dick!" snapped the other. "I can ride!"

"Some ridin'! Oh, boy, some ridin'!" murmured the fat assistant
foreman of Diamond X, while his companions grinned.

"You may know how to ride an ordinary horse," admitted Bud with a
smile, as he coiled the rope which one of the men handed to him. "But
Tartar isn't a regular pony. He's an outlaw, and even Del Pinzo won't
take a chance on him. I don't see how they come to let you," he added,
gazing somewhat reproachfully at the assembled cowboys.

They had begun to slink away, for they recognized the pseudo-authority
held by the son of the ranch owner. Still they could justify their
action, somewhat.

"He _wanted_ to ride," declared Babe Milton. "Would have it so, and we
roped Tartar for him. I told him your pa wouldn't like it if he was
here, but----"

"I reckon you thought you'd see some fun," said Bud, half smiling, for
though he reali