The Pony Rider Boys in Texas | Page 5

of the plains refer to them as the iron trails. That's what they are in reality. Professor, do you wish the boys to take their turns on the herd to-night?"
"As you wish, Mr. Stallings. I presume they will be anxious to begin their life as cowboys. I understand that's an ambition possessed by most of your American boys."
"All right," laughed the foreman. "I'll send them out as I find I can, with some of the other cowpunchers, until they learn the ropes. There is too great a responsibility on a night man to trust the boys alone with that work now. But they can begin if they wish. I'll see first how the bunch get back from their celebration of the glorious Fourth. You'll come out and have supper with us?"
"No, I think not. We shall ride out just after supper, if you will have some one to show us the way," answered the Professor.
"Sure, I'll send in Big-foot Sanders to pilot you out. You boys need not be afraid of Big-foot. He's not half so savage as he looks, but he's a great hand with cows."
Big-foot Sanders rode up to the hotel shortly after six o'clock. Leading his pony across the sidewalk, he poked his shaggy head just inside the door of the hotel.
"Ki-yi!" he bellowed, causing everybody within hearing of his voice to start up in alarm. "Where's that bunch of tenderfeet?"
"Are you Mr. Sanders, from the Miller outfit?" asked the Professor, stepping toward him.
"Donno about the Mister. I'm Big-foot Sanders. I'm lookin' for a bunch of yearlings that's going on with the outfit."
"The young gentlemen will join you in a moment, Mr. Sanders. They will ride their ponies around from the stable and meet you in front of the house."
"You one of the bunch?"
"I am Professor Zepplin, a sort of companion, you know, for the young men."
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot. "I reckon you'd better forget the hard boiled hat you're wearin' or the boys'll be for shooting it full of holes. Take my advice--drop it, pardner."
"Oh, you mean this," laughed the Professor, removing his derby hat. "Thank you. I shall profit by your advice, and leave it here when I start."
"All the bunch got hard boiled ones?"
"Oh, no. The boys have their sombreros," answered the Professor.
Big-foot grunted, but whether in disapproval or approval, Professor Zepplin did not know. The cowpuncher threw himself into his saddle, on which he sat, stolidly awaiting the arrival of the Pony Riders.
In a short time they came galloping from the stable at the rear of the hotel, and pulled up, facing the cowman.
"This, Mr. Sanders, is Tad Butler," announced the Professor.
"Huh!" grunted Big-foot again. "Hello, Pinto!" he said after a sharp glance into the freckled face. "Who's the gopher over there?"
"That's Stacy Brown, otherwise known as 'Chunky,'" laughed Tad. "This is Ned Rector, and the young gentleman at your left is Walter Perkins, all members of the Pony Rider Boys' party. We are ready to start whenever you are."
For answer, Big-foot touched his pony with a spur, the little animal springing into a gallop without further command. The Pony Riders followed immediately, Tad riding up beside the big, muscular looking cowboy, which position he held for half an hour without having been able to draw a word from him.
Leaving the town due east of them, the party galloped off across the country in a straight line until finally the cowman pointed off across the plain to indicate where their destination lay.
A slow moving mass of red and brown and white met the inquiring gaze of the boys. At first they were unable to make out what it was.
"Cows," growled the guide, observing that they did not understand.
"What are they doing, Mr. Sanders?" asked Tad.
"Don't 'mister' me. I'm Big-foot. Never had a handle to my name. Never expect to. They're grazing. Be rounding them up for bed pretty soon. Ever been on a trail before?"
Tad shook his head.
"We have been up in the Rockies on a hunting trip. This is my first experience on the plains."
"Huh! Got good and plenty coming to you, then."
"And I am ready for it," answered the lad promptly. "The rougher the better."
"There's the bunch waiting for us. All of them got back from town. The foreman don't allow the fellows to hang out nights when they're on a drive like this."
Now, the rest of the Pony Rider Boys, understanding that they were nearing the camp of the cowboys, urged their ponies into a brisk gallop and drew up well into line with Tad and Big-foot. That is, all did save Stacy Brown, who, as was his habit lagged behind a few rods.
The cowboys were standing about watching the approach of the new arrivals curiously, but not with any great enthusiasm, for they did not approve of having a lot