As he felt the line running through his hand, Tad Butler had given it a quick hitch around his right wrist, so that when the rope drew taut, and the pony braced itself to meet the shock, the lad fairly flew through the air.
The white steer had been headed for the mixed bunch which the Pony Riders were guarding. With the stubbornness of its kind, it wheeled about the instant it felt the tug on the rope and dashed for the main herd, Tad's body ploughing up the dust as he trailed along at a fearful pace behind the wild animal, whirling over and over in his rapid flight.
The lad's eyes were so full of sand dust that he was unable to see where he was going. He had slight realization of the peril that confronted him.
"Look! Look!" cried Walter Perkins.
"What is it?" cried Ned Rector.
"What's that the steer is dragging?"
"I don't know."
"And there's Tad's pony standing out there alone," added Walter. "You—you don't think Tad——"
"As I'm alive, it is Tad! He is being dragged by the steer. He'll be killed! Watch this herd, I am going after him!" shouted Ned, putting spurs to his pony and dashing toward the main herd.
At that moment the white steer, trailing its human burden, rushed in among the other cattle and was soon lost among them.