“Something’s due to happen when that feller gits turned out,” declared Jib Pottoway. “You goin’ to try to rope that contrary critter, Jane Ann?”
“It’ll be a free-for-all race; Ike says so,” cried Jane Ann. “You wait! You boys think you’re so smart. I’ll rope that steer myself—maybe.”
The punchers laughed at this boast; but they all liked Jane Ann and had it been possible to make her boast come true they would have seen to it that she won. But Old Trouble-Maker, as Jib said, “wasn’t a lady’s cow.”
It was agreed that only a free-for-all dash for the old fellow would do—and out on the open range, at that. Old Trouble-Maker was to be turned out of the corral, given a five-rod start, and then the bunch who wanted to have a tussle with the steer would start for him. Just to make it interesting Old Bill Hicks had put up a twenty dollar gold piece, to be the property of the winner of the contest—that is, to the one who succeeded in throwing and “hog-tieing” Old Trouble-Maker.
It was along in the cool of the afternoon when the bars of the small corral were let down and the steer was prodded out into the open. The old fellow seemed to know that there was fun in store for him. At first he pawed the ground and seemed inclined to charge the line of punchers, and even shook his head at the group of mounted spectators, who were bunched farther back on the hillside. Bashful Ike stopped that idea, however, for, as master of ceremonies, he rode in suddenly and used his quirt on the big steer. With a bellow Old Trouble-Maker swung around and started for the skyline. Ike trotted on behind him till the steer passed the five-rod mark. Then pulling the big pistol that swung at his hip the foreman shot a fusilade into the ground which started the steer off at a gallop, tail up and head down, and spurred the punchers into instant action, as well.
“Ye-yip!” yelled Bashful Ike. “Now let’s see what you ’ombres air good for with a rope. Go to it!”
CHAPTER VI—THE ROPING CONTEST
With a chorus of “co-ees” and wild yells the cowboys of Silver Ranch dashed away on the race after the huge black and white steer. And Jane Ann, on her bay mustang, was right up with the leaders in the wild rush. It was indeed an inspiring sight, and the boys and girls from the East urged their own mounts on after the crowd with eagerness.
“See Nita ride! isn’t she just wonderful?” cried Helen.
“I don’t think there’s anything wonderful about it,” sneered The Fox, in her biting way. “She was almost born on horseback, you know. It’s as natural to her as breathing.”