The Pony Rider Boys in Montana | Page 8

squealing, kicking pony floundering down upon him, its
every effort to right itself forcing it further and further down the
slippery bank. Now on its back, now with its nose in the sand, Bad-eye
was rapidly nearing the swiftly moving creek. Ned had all he could do
to keep out of the way, and on account of the darkness he had to be
guided more by instinct than by any other sense. However, it was not
difficult to keep track of the now thoroughly frightened animal.
Ned leaped to one side. An instant later, and he would have been
caught under the pony.
The animal hit the water with a mighty splash, with Ned still clinging
to the reins. As the pony went in, Ned was jerked in also, striking the
water head first.
He could have screamed from the shock of the icy water, which seemed
to smite him like a heavy blow.
For a moment boy and pony floundered about in the stream. It seemed
almost a miracle that the lad was not killed by those flying hoofs that
were beating the water almost into a froth.
As soon as he was able to get to the surface Ned exerted all his strength
to swim out further toward the middle of the stream. Even when he was
under water, he still kept a firm grip on the rein. To let go would be to
lose all that he had gained after so much danger in getting as far as he
had.
By this time, both boy and pony had drifted down stream several rods.
The pony righted himself and struck out for the bank. Ned was by his
side almost instantly, being aided in the effort to get there by having the
reins to pull himself in by.

Bad-eye refused instinctively to head down stream. There was only one
thing to do. That was to climb into the saddle and get him started. Ned
did this with difficulty. His weight made the pony sink at first, the
animal whinnying with fear.
Fearing to drown the broncho, the boy slipped off, at the same time
taking a firm grip on the lines.
Bad-eye came to the surface at once. Ned's right hand was on the
pommel, the reins bunched in his left. He brought his knee sharply
against the animal's side.
"Whoop!" he urged, again driving the knee against the pony's ribs.
Under the strong guiding hand of his master, the animal fighting every
inch of the way, began swimming down stream.
"I'm coming!" shouted the boy.
Before that moment he had not had breath nor the time to call.
"I'm coming!" he repeated, as they swung around the wide sweeping
curve.
"Are you there, Tad?"
"Yes," was the scarcely distinguishable reply. "I've got to let go."
"You hold on. Bad-eye and I will be there in a minute and the Professor
is hurrying down along the bank with a rope."
"I'm freezing. I'm all numb, that's the trouble," answered Tad weakly.
Ned knew that the plucky lad was well-nigh exhausted. The strain of
holding to the slippery rock in the face of the swift current was one that
would have taxed the strength of the strongest man, to say nothing of
the almost freezing cold water, which chilled the blood and benumbed
the senses.

"You've gone past me," cried Tad.
"I know it. I'm heading up," replied Ned Rector.
Ned had purposely driven his pony further down stream so that he
might the easier pick them up as he went by on the return trip.
"Are you all right down there?" called the Professor, who had reached a
point on the bank opposite to them.
"Yes, but get ready to cast me a rope," directed Ned.
"I'm afraid I cannot."
"Then have Walter do it."
"He is not here. I directed him to remain in camp in case he was needed
there."
"All right. You can try later. I'll tell you how. I'm busy now."
"Don't run me down," warned Tad Butler.
"Keep talking then, so I'll know where you are. Just say yip-yip and
keep it up."
Tad did so, but his voice was weak and uncertain.
Ned swam the pony alongside of them, pulling hard on the reins to
slow the animal down without exerting pressure enough to stop him.
"Is Chunky able to help himself?"
"Yes, if he will."
"Then both of you grab Bad-eye by the mane as he goes by. Don't you
miss, for if you do, we're all lost."
"The pony won't be able to get the three of us up the stream," objected

Tad.
"I know it."
"Then, what are we going to do?"
"I'll stay here and hang on. You send Walter back with the pony as
soon as you get there. Better