The Angel sought, in every way in its power, to shake off the boy who so persistently hung at its side. All at once the stallion reached over, fastening its teeth in the neck of Tad Butler's pony. Tad, however had been quick enough to foresee the move and had jerked his little mount to one side. Yet, he had not done so quickly enough to save the broncho from a slight flesh wound.
Slackening its speed, the Angel then made a vicious lunge at the lad's left leg, biting right through the heavy chaps with which his legs were protected.
The boy swung his quirt, bringing it down again and again on the stallion's pink and white nose, until the beast, unable to stand the punishment longer, uttered a snort, changing its course more to the southward.
"I've turned him! I've turned him!" shouted Tad.
He had accomplished what the leader of the horse-hunters had been unable to do.
Bud Stevens, far to the rear on the desert, tossed his sombrero in the air, uttering a long, far-reaching yell of approval.
CHAPTER XVIII
ROPED BY ROUGH RIDERS
Tad replied with an exulting yell.