“Whatever that may mean, Tom,” Mrs. Edwards said, dryly. “Why don’t you try your ’prentice hand on that buckskin? He’s dodged the lariat a dozen times.”
“Why, that Bucky is a regular rocking-horse, I bet,” declared Tom, who, for a city boy, was a pretty good rider.
“Get down and ride him, Tommy,” urged Sue. “Can’t you ride as well as these country boys?”
“I never said I could,” retorted Tom, doubtfully. “You girls are guying the punchers, too. Why don’t one o’ you get down and show ’em what you can do?”
“Frances can beat all you boys riding, Tommy,” Mrs. Edwards cried.
“Bet she couldn’t even get aboard of that Bucky,” young Gallup instantly responded.
“You’re not going to take a dare like that, are you, Frances?” demanded Mrs. Edwards.
Sue became disdainful the moment Frances came into the argument. She had nothing further to say.
“I believe the boys are all holding back on that little buckskin,” said Frances, laughing.
“Step right this way, Ma’am, step right this way,” urged Fred Purchase, bowing low and offering his lariat. “Here’s my rope and I’ll lend ye anything else ye may need if ye wanter try that Bucky. He’s some bronco, believe me!”