"I'll head 'em off!" yelled Todd, coming closer. And waving his big sombrero in one hand he commenced to fire his pistol with the other. He shot rapidly, aiming for the ground and sending streaks of dust into the air. All the time he yelled at the top of his lungs, and, understanding the move, Dave yelled too, and swung one arm wildly.
Soon the leaders of the herd took notice and came to a sudden halt. The rest of the cattle shoved from behind, and then the leaders broke, some going to the right, and the others to the left.
"Look out, Roger! Phil! They are coming your way!" screamed Dave.
He was right, and for the minute it looked as if Dave had been saved at the expense of his chums. But only a few cattle were headed for the other boys, and as soon as Roger and Phil commenced to yell and wave their arms, these broke again, and thus the herd was completely scattered. They ran a short distance further, then halted, and a little later began to graze as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
"Are you all right, son?" asked Sid Todd, anxiously, as he ranged up beside Dave.
"Yes, but—I—I am a lit—tle wi—winded," answered Dave, when he could speak.
"Good enough! Then you mastered the bronco, eh? Didn't he throw you at all?"
"No."
"Didn't he roll?"
"Oh, yes, and I got off and on pretty quick, I can tell you."