The Pony Rider Boys in Montana | Page 7

"Where? I don't see you."
"In the river. Just below the bend."
Hurriedly dismounting and making a quick examination of the banks he
discovered that they were so nearly straight up and down that it would
be impossible to get his companions out at that point.
"I can't get you out here. You'll have to wait a few moments. Are you
swimming?"
"No, I am holding to a rock. It's awful slippery and I'm freezing too."
"All right. Is Stacy with you?"
"Yes, I've got him. "
"Good! Have courage! I'll be with you," said Ned encouragingly.
"You'll have to hurry. I can't hold on much longer. The falls are just
below here and if I have to let go it's all up with us."
Ned had no need to be told that. He could almost feel the spray from
the falls on his face, so close were they to him and their roar was loud
in his ears, so that he was obliged to raise his voice in calling to his

companions.
Leaping to the back of Bad-eye, Ned was off like a shot, tearing
through the brush, headed toward camp. On the way he passed
Professor Zepplin and Walter, nearly running them down in his mad
haste.
"Got a rope?" he shouted in passing. "No," answered Walter. "Then get
one and hurry around the bend. You'll be needed there in a minute. I'm
going down into the stream from the camp."
The Professor, seeming to comprehend what Ned had in mind, turned
and ran back to the camp.
Without an instant's hesitation, Ned Rector, upon reaching their
camping place, put his pony at the bank where the two boys had gone
over.
The little animal refused to take it. He bucked and the lad had a narrow
escape from following where Tad and Chunky had gone a short time
before.
"I've got to have a saddle. That's the only way I can stick on to drive
him in, and we'll need it to hold to as well," he decided.
Every moment was precious now. Whirling the animal about, Ned
drove him into the thicket where the saddles lay folded against trees.
It was the work of seconds for him to leap off and throw the heavy
saddle on Bad-eye's back. The boy worked with the speed and precision
of a Gattling gun. Yet he groaned hopelessly when he realized that his
delay might mean the death of two of his companions.
Professor Zepplin arrived at the camp just as Ned had finally cinched
the girths and swung himself into the saddle.
"Where--where is he?" gasped the Professor, now breathing hard.
"Below the bend. Get back there with a rope and be ready to toss it to

him if he lets go."
Ned and his pony crashed through the brush. He had no spur with
which to urge on the animal, but Ned had thoughtfully picked up a long,
stout stick, and once more they drove straight at the high bank.
"Stop! I forbid it!" thundered the Professor.
Ned paid no more attention to him than had he not spoken. It was a
time when words were useless. What was necessary was action and
quick action at that.
"Hurry with that rope!" commanded Ned.
The pony slowed up as they approached the bank of the river, but Ned
was in no mood for trifling now. He brought down the stick on the
animal's hip with a terrific whack.
Bad-eye angered by the blow, squealed and leaped into the air with all
four feet free of the ground.
"Hi-yi!" exclaimed the Pony Rider sharply, again smiting the animal
while the latter was still in the air.
Ned's plan was to enter the stream at that point and swim down with the
pony until they should have reached the boys and rescued them from
their perilous position. While the bluff was sandy at the point where
they had fallen in, down below, where Tad was now desperately
clinging to the rock, the stream wound through a rocky cut, whose high
sides were slippery and uncertain, especially in the darkness of the
night.
Bad-eye needed no further goading to force him to do his master's
bidding. With another squeal of protest the little animal plunged for the
bank. No sooner had his forward feet reached over the edge of it than
the treacherous sands gave way beneath them.
The pony pivoted on its head, landing violently on its back. Ned had

dismounted without the least effort on his part, so that he was well out
of the way when his mount landed. He had been hurled from the saddle
the instant the pony's feet struck the unresisting sand.
But Ned clung doggedly to the bridle reins. He, too, struck on his back.
He heard the