“Hellup! hellup!” roared Hans, as he again shot into the air. “Dat proncho haf injy-rubber mit his pack in!”
CHAPTER XXX—INDIAN CHARLIE’S GAME
Although he realized that Hans might be injured, Frank could not restrain his laughter, for the spectacle was one to make a wooden image laugh.
Barney and Ephraim were convulsed.
“Oh!” shouted the Irish lad, holding his hands to his sides and swaying forward and backward. “See th’ broncho play bounce ball wid th’ Doochman!”
“Gol darned if this ain’t better’n goin’ to ther best circus that ever struck aour part of the country!” laughed the Vermonter. “I’d ruther see it than a hull cage of monkeys, b’gosh! Haw! haw! haw!”
“Yah! yah! yah!” sounded the shrill “coon” laugh of Toots. “’Scuse meh, but I’s gotter laff or bu’st mah boiluh fo’ suah! land ob wartermillions! de nex’ bounce am gwan teh——Dar he goes!”
The broncho shot forward a short distance, then stopped suddenly, its forward feet planted solidly.
Over the creature’s head sailed Hans, like a huge toad.
In some way the Dutch lad turned in the air and struck on his back.