The Pony Rider Boys in Texas | Page 6

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 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