"It's a pony!" he shouted. "It's my pony!"
The animal was standing with lowered head, gazing straight at the boy.
Tad whistled and called with a long drawn "Whoa-oo-ope!"
The pony made no move to approach, nor did it attempt to run away. But Tad had had experience enough with the cow ponies by this time to know that the animal was not likely to stand still and permit him to come up with it. At any moment it was likely to kick its heels in the air and dash away.
"I've got to make a run for him," decided the lad, stepping cautiously forward, making a slight detour that he might come up from the animal's left instead of approaching him directly from the front.
After having done this, Tad waited, crouching low. He chuckled to himself as he observed that the pony was looking straight ahead, not having discovered his master's new position.
The boy was not more than two rods from him.
Measuring the distance with his eyes, he waited until the lightning flash died out, then ran on his toes straight for where he believed the horse was standing. It was Tad's purpose to grab the animal about the neck.
Instead he ran straight against the pony's side with a resounding bump.
The pony uttered a grunt of fear, springing straight up into the air.