of tenderfeet with the outfit on a journey such as they were taking now. They were bent on grim and serious business--man's work--the sort of labor that brings out all that is in him. It was no place for weaklings, and none realized this better than the cowmen themselves.
Yet, they did not know the mettle that was in these four young American boys, though they were to realize it fully before the boundaries of the Lone Star State, had been left behind them.
The Pony Riders dashed up to the waiting cowpunchers with a brave showing of horsemanship, and sprang from their saddles their eyes glowing with excitement and anticipation.
Bob Stallings, the foreman, was the first to greet them.
"Fellows, this is the bunch I've been telling you about," was Bob's introduction. "Where's Lumpy?" he demanded, glancing about him with a scowl.
"Lumpy's over behind the chuck wagon," answered the cowboy of whom the question had been asked.
"Lumpy!" bellowed the foreman.
The fellow with whom Tad Butler had had such an unpleasant meeting, earlier in the day, came forward reluctantly, a sudden scowl on his face.
"Lumpy, this is Tad Butler. Stick out your fist and shake hands with him!"
Lumpy did so.
"Howd'y," he growled, but scarcely loud enough for any save Tad to hear.
The lad smiled up at him good-naturedly.
"You and I bumped ponies this morning, I guess," said Tad. "Maybe I was to blame after all. I'll apologize, anyway, and I hope there will be no hard feelings."
"Lumpy!" warned Stallings when he noticed that the cowpuncher had made no reply to Tad's apology.
"No hard feelings," grunted Lumpy Bates.
He was about to turn away and again seek the seclusion of the chuck wagon, as the cook wagon was called by the cow boys, when Chunky came rolling along. In the excitement of the meeting the boys had forgotten all about him. The Pony Riders swung their sombreros and gave three cheers for Chunky Brown as he dashed up.
Chunky took off his sombrero and waved it at them.
Just then Chunky met with one of those unfortunate accidents that were always occurring to him. His galloping pony put a forefoot into a gopher hole, going down in a heap.
Chunky, however, kept on.
When the accident happened he was almost upon the waiting cowboys, his intention having been to pull his pony up sharply to show off his horsemanship, then drop off and make them a sweeping bow.
Stacy Brown was possessed of the true dramatic instinct, yet few things ever came off exactly as he had planned them.
As he shot over the falling pony's head, his body described a half curve in the air, his own head landing fairly in the pit of Lumpy Bates's stomach.
Cowboy and Pony Rider went over in a struggling heap, with the Pony Rider uppermost.
Stacy had introduced himself to the cowboys in a most unusual manner, and to the utter undoing of one of them, for the boy's head had for the moment, knocked all the breath out of the surly Lumpy Bates.
CHAPTER III
PUTTING THE COWS TO BED
The cowpunchers roared at the funny sight of the fat boy bowling over their companion.
Stallings, however, fearing for the anger of Lumpy, sprang forward and hauled the lad back by the collar, while Lumpy was allowed to get up when he got ready. He did so a few seconds later, sputtering and growling, scarcely able to contain his rage.
"That's a bad way to get off a pony, young man," laughed the foreman. "I hope you won't dismount in that fashion around the cattle at night. If you do, you sure will stampede the herd."
Chunky grinned sheepishly.
"It doesn't take much to start a bunch of cows on the run after dark," continued the foreman, "I've known of such a thing as a herd being stampeded because they were frightened at the rising moon. Haven't you, Big-foot?"
Sanders nodded.
"The gopher'll do it, too; he's a clumsy lout," he answered, referring to Stacy in a withering tone.
"And now, boys, I will tell you how our watches are divided, after which you can go out with the cowboys and see them bed down the cows."
"Bed them down?" spoke up Chunky, his curiosity aroused. "That's funny. I didn't know you had to put cattle to bed."
"You'll see that we do. Boys, the night of the cowman on the march is divided into four tricks. The first guard goes on at half past eight, coming off at half past ten. The second guard is on duty from that time till one o'clock in the morning; the third, from that hour till half past three, while the fourth remains out until relieved in the morning. He usually wakes up the cook, too. And, by the way, you boys haven't made the acquaintance of Pong, have you? I'll call him. Unless you get on the right
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