Tad grew a bit anxious as the wild horses curved more and more to the eastward. In a few moments they would be too far to the left to permit of heading them toward the hidden corral.
"I guess they must be going to let us drive them around the circle once more," he decided, "No! There they come!"
With a yell, followed by a rattling fire of revolver shots, a dozen ponies shot from behind the low-lying butte. The horse-hunters hurled their bronchos right against the wall of fleeing animals.
Volley after volley was fired into the ground right under the very feet of the wild horses. Here and there a rider was unseated in a sudden collision in the dust cloud with a charging wild horse.
"They've turned them!" bellowed Bud Stevens.
The Pony Rider Boy now began to realize the truth of this, for the Angel came bounding toward him, crowding right up against the side of Tad's pony. Tad was using foot and quirt, yelling like a wild Indian to frighten the big, white stallion into keeping to the left.
So successful were his efforts that the animal did give way a little.
"I've headed him!" shouted the lad in wild glee. Never had he had such an exciting day as this one was proving itself to be. He gave no thought to the danger of the chase. And now that he heard and recognized the shouts of his companions he was spurred to even greater efforts than before. Why this post of honor had been given to him he did not know. But Bud Stevens was not far behind. Bud was ready to stop the stampede that he momentarily expected, but which did not come.
"Give way a little!" came the command.
Tad recognized that he had, in his enthusiasm, been crowding the white stallion a bit too much. He drew off a little, not, however, decreasing his speed.