Stacy Brown had finished his meal, mounted his pony and was now riding toward the herd at what was for him a reckless speed.
All at once they saw him pull his mount sharply to the left and drive straight at a bunch of cattle that the cowboys had separated from the herd a few moments before.
The boy was too far away, the racket too loud, for their voices to reach him in a warning shout.
Stacy, having observed the cattle straying away, and having in mind Tad Butler's achievement in driving back a bunch of stray steers, thought he would do something on his own account.
"I'll show them I can drive steers as well as anybody," he told himself, bringing down the quirt about the pony's legs.
The strong-limbed little beast sprang to his work with a will. He understood perfectly what was wanted of him. A few moments more, and he had headed off the rapidly moving bunch, effectually turning the leaders, sending them on a gallop back toward the vast herd fighting and bellowing in the cloud of dust they had stirred up.
The cowboys were so fully occupied with their task that they had failed to observe Stacy Brown's action, nor would they have known anything about it had not Tad, yelling himself hoarse, managed to attract the attention of the foreman.
Tad pointed off to where Chunky was jumping his pony at the fleeing cattle, forcing them on with horse and quirt.
They had almost reached the main herd before Tad succeeded in informing the foreman.
One look was enough for Stallings.