But Nat did not get a chance. Mr. Kent was too busy preparing to ride after his stampeded cattle to pay any attention to the three boys. It is doubtful if he thought of them.
So the chums, without further permission than Nat's idea that it would be all right, saddled their horses, Jack taking the black which he had come to like very much. They rode from the corral and out on the road that led to the north where the upper range lay. The lads at once found themselves in the rear of a galloping throng of cowboys.
"Come on, let's get up ahead," shouted Nat, and they urged their horses forward, passing the others. When they were almost in the van a voice hailed them:
"Where you boys going?"
They turned, to see Mr. Kent riding toward them.
"Oh," said Nat, a little confused. "We thought you'd want us to go to learn how to manage a herd of cattle."
"Manage stampeding cattle," muttered Mr. Kent. "You boys must be crazy. But it's too late to send you back, I suppose. Only don't ride your horses to death the first thing. You've got lots of work ahead of you."
With this encouragement the chums dropped back, listening to the talk of the cowboys about what was ahead of them.
"Remember the last stampede," one tall lanky rider asked his neighbor, who was nearly the same build.
"The one where Loony Pete was trampled to death?"