Tad groaned. Pulling his pony fairly back on its haunches, he dashed back where Stacy lay kicking, entangling himself deeper and deeper in the bunch grass.
Had Tad not had presence of mind they both might have perished right there. He was off like a flash. With supreme strength, he grasped the body of his fallen companion, raising him into the saddle.
"Hold on!" he shouted. "Don't you dare fall off!"
Stacy clung like a monkey to a pony in a circus race.
"Y-i-i-p!" trilled Tad. He had no time to mount. Already he could feel the hot breath of the flames on his cheek.
The broncho was off with a bound.
"Tad! Tad!" cried Chunky in sudden alarm, now realizing that he was alone. "Whe—where are you?"
"H-h-h-h-e-r-e!"
"W-w-where?"
"H-h-h-holding to the b-r-r-oncho's t-tail."