Frank knew his horse. He had won a victory over the vicious little beast only after the longest fight recorded in the history of Circle Ranch. And among the cow punchers there were few indeed who could stick on the back of Buckskin when he started his bucking tactics.
There the two boys stood, in the shadow of the trees, looking upon as stirring a little scene as could be imagined. Bob clutched his chum’s arm, and almost held his breath with awe as he gazed; for this certainly excelled anything he had ever witnessed.
The intending horse thief was indeed a clever rider. No other could have held his seat on the bare back of that jumping pony for half a minute, with only the assistance of a fragment of rope to give him support.
And it was the admiration Frank felt for the fellow’s grit that really kept him from resorting to his gun to wind matters up. Besides, Frank believed that in due time Buckskin would amply prove that he was able to take care of himself.
Sometimes the maddened pony would seem to have its four hoofs in the air at once. Then, quickly following, Buckskin would raise himself on his hind legs, and make a furious whirl calculated to unseat all but the most expert rider.
The fellow stuck through it all. Three times Frank gave a grunt as he thought the end had come, for he fancied the rider must be toppling from his seat; but in each instance the unknown thief managed to recover himself before it was too late.
Perhaps by this time the fellow would have been only too glad of a chance to make a swift retreat; but the truth was he did not dare throw himself to the ground with that enraged little animal loose. It seemed that he had made a terrible mistake, and could only abide by it now.
So he clung desperately to the back of the buckskin pony, which seemed able to display an astonishing array of tricks in the endeavor to dislodge its hated rider.
Frank heard the rapid pounding of hoofs not far away, and judged from this that the thief had a comrade who was making off as fast as his own horse could take him, leaving the luckless one to his fate.
Of course Frank could have brought his pony galloping toward him at any minute by a shrill whistle that Buckskin had been taught to respect; but he did not give it.