The others ran forward to see if he was injured.
“Are you hurt?” asked Frank, anxiously, bending over Hans.
The fat lad looked at Merriwell, and slowly the most comical expression conceivable spread over the broad expanse of his face.
“Nit, I don’d peen hurted alretty yet,” he replied; “but you pet my life I vos goin’ to peen britty queek! I vas goin’ to got pehindt dot proncho and teekle his heels a straw mit shust to seen if he could kick uf me a few prains oudt.”
Hans was assisted to his feet. He took a look at the broncho, which was standing quite still, and then turned and ran, as if afraid of the creature.
All this was very amusing to the cowboys, who shouted with mirth.
“Wal, if I don’t believe I kin ride that critter!” cried Ephraim Gallup, wagging his head. “I’ve rid some purty tough nuts in my day.”
“Better not try it,” warned Frank.
That was just enough to start the Yankee boy.
“By gum! I will try it!” he shouted, and made a rush for the animal.