“What is all this?” he asked. “Tenderfeet can’t ride anything.”
“To be course not!” nodded one of the punchers near him; “but they seem to think they kin, an’ we’re havin’ fun with um.”
That was quite enough for Frank.
“So they think tenderfeet can’t ride anything!” he muttered. “Well, I don’t like to have them believe that.”
Then all were surprised to see him walk forward quickly, come up beside the broncho, and spring into the saddle with a single bound.
The boys gave a shout.
“’Rah for Frank Merriwell!” cried Hodge. “’Rah! ’rah! ’rah!”
“Now ye’ll see some roidin’!” came from Barney.
For a moment the broncho stood quite still, as if astonished that a third person should attempt to ride it, then, with a wild squeal, it began to plunge and leap and rear and buck in the fiercest manner.
To the astonishment of the cowboys Frank kept his seat in the saddle, apparently with as much ease as any one of them could have maintained it.