Fortunately for the two chums, the flash of lightning which had revealed the two horses to them was followed by something of a lull in the storm and this served to keep the steeds from stampeding again.
“Be careful, Roger,” cautioned Dave, as they separated to do as our hero had advised.
“Do you want me to take my own horse or the one which happens to be nearest to me?” questioned the senator’s son.
“Take the nearest, by all means—and be sure to hold on tight!”
In the darkness, and with the rain still coming down steadily, the two approached closer and closer to the horses. One animal gave a low snort, but whether of fear or recognition of his master could not be ascertained.
“I guess we’ve got them, all right enough,” sang out Roger, as he made a dash to cover the dozen feet that separated him from the nearest steed.
Dave was a few steps farther away from the other horse. At that instant came another clap of thunder, followed almost instantly by the lightning. Then came a crash in the forest, showing that a tree close by had been struck.
The nervous horses wheeled around and reared up. Then one started in one direction and the other in another.
“Grab him, Roger! Don’t let him get away!” yelled Dave, and made a wild leap for the animal nearest him. He caught the loose rein, and an instant later had a firm hold on the steed. The horse did considerable prancing, but the youth, who some seasons before had tamed a bronco at Star Ranch, was not daunted. He brought the animal to a standstill, and then, seeing that it was his own mount, leaped lightly into the saddle.
“Now behave yourself, old boy,” he said soothingly, patting the animal on the neck. “You’re all right. Take it easy.”