The Pony Rider Boys in Texas | Page 5

you boys
brought your slickers with, you?"
"What's a slicker?" demanded Chunky.
"A rubber blanket that----"
"Oh yes. We bought an outfit of those at Austin," answered Tad.
"Anything else that you wish us to get?"
"The boys don't carry guns, do they?"
Professor Zepplin shook his head emphatically.
"Most certainly not. They can get into enough trouble without them.

We have rifles in our kit, but I imagine there will be little use for such
weapons on this trip."
"You can't always tell about that," smiled the foreman. "I remember in
the old days, when we used to have to fight the rustlers, that a rifle was
a pretty good thing to have."
"Who were the rustlers?" asked Walter.
"Fellows who rustled cattle that didn't belong to them. But the old days
have passed. Such a drive as we are making now hasn't been done on so
large a scale in nearly twenty years."
"Why not?" asked Ned.
"The iron trails have put the old cow trails out of business."
"Iron trails?" wondered Tad.
"Railroads. We men 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