The Pony Rider Boys in Texas | Page 3

right under the hoofs of his pony. It seemed to the lad that the powder from their weapons had burned his face, so close had the guns been when they pulled the triggers.
Tad had braced himself for the shock that he knew was coming, gathering the reins tightly in his right hand and leaning slightly forward in his saddle.
They were fairly upon him now. Two revolvers exploded into the air, accompanied by the long shrill yell of the plainsmen. But just when it seemed that the lad must go down under the rush of beating hoofs, Tad all but lifted his pony from the ground, turned the little animal and headed him in the direction in which the wild horsemen were going.
The boy's clever horsemanship had saved him. Yet one of the racing cow ponies struck the boy and his horse a glancing blow. For the moment, Tad felt sure his left leg must have been broken. He imagined that he had heard it snap.
As he swept past the boy the cowboy had uttered a jeering yell.
Tad brought down his quirt with all his force on the rump of the kicking cow pony, whose hoofs threatened to wound his own animal.
Then a most unexpected thing happened--that is, unexpected to the cowboy.
Looking back at the boy he had attempted to unhorse, the cowman was leaning over far to the left in his saddle when Tad struck his horse. The pony, under the sting of the unexpected blow, leaped into the air with arching back and a squeal of rage.
The cowboy's weight on the side of the startled animal overbalanced it and the animal plunged sideways to the street. The cowpuncher managed to free his left leg from the stirrup; but, quick as he was, he was not quick enough to save himself wholly from the force of the fall. The fellow ploughed the dirt of the street on his face, while the pony, springing to its feet, was off with a bound.
The other cowpunchers set up a great jeering yell as they saw the unhorsing of their companion by a mere boy, while the villagers and country folks laughed as loudly as they dared.
Yet there was not one of them but feared that the angry cowpuncher would visit his wrath upon the lad who had been the cause of his downfall.
With a roar of rage he scrambled to his feet.
In his fall the fellow's gun had been wrenched from his hand, and lay in the street.
He picked it up as he started for Tad Butler.
Tad, who had sat in his saddle calmly, now realized that he must act quickly if he expected to save himself.
His plan was formed in a flash.
Digging in the spurs, and at the same time slapping the little animal smartly on its side, the lad caused his little pony to leap violently forward.
"Drop that gun!"
As he uttered the stern command, the boy brought his quirt down across the cowman's knuckles with a resounding whack.
The cowman with a yell of rage sprang at him, but the blow aimed at Tad Butler's head never reached him.
CHAPTER II
THE PONY RIDERS JOIN THE OUTFIT
At that instant a man, clad in the dress of a cowboy, leaped from the sidewalk. He caught the angry cowman by the collar. From the way in which the newcomer swung the fellow around it was evident that he was possessed of great strength.
"Stop it!" he thundered.
Tad's assailant turned on the newcomer with an angry snarl, his rage now beyond all control.
"Let me alone! Let me get at the cub!" he cried, making a vicious pass at the man.
The cowboy's blow was neatly parried and a mighty fist was planted squarely between his eyes, sending him to earth in a heap.
"Get up!" commanded the man who had felled him.
The cowboy struggled to his feet, standing sullenly before his conqueror.
"Look at me, Lumpy! Didn't I tell you that I'd 'fire' you if you got into any trouble in town to-day?"
The cowboy nodded.
"Is this the way you obey orders? What sort of recommend do you suppose Boss Miller will give you when I tell him I found you trying to shoot up a kid?"
"I don't care. I ain't askin' any recommends. Besides, he--he got in----"
"Never mind what he did. I saw it all. Get your pony and back to the camp for yours. Let Bert come in your place. You get no more lay-offs till I see fit to let you. Now, git!"
Thoroughly subdued, but with angry muttered protests, the cowboy, walked down the street, jerking his pony's head about and swinging himself into the saddle.
"Don't be rough on the fellow. Let him stay."
The newcomer turned to Tad, glancing up at the boy inquiringly.
"Young fellow, you've got nerve--more nerve than sense."
"Thank you. But I asked you to let the