Tad released his rope, then started for another cast. So he went on from one to another, and with as much coolness as if he had been roping wild horses all his life.
After half an hour's work young Butler saw Bud motioning to him. Tad rode up. The boy was bare-headed, having lost his sombrero somewhere in the enclosure, and not having thought to look for it, even if he had realized its loss.
"Take a rest," directed the horseman.
"I'm not tired."
"Yes, you are, but you don't know it. First thing you know, you'll tumble off your pony with a bad case of heat knock-out. Your face is as red as a lobster. Too bad the stallions got away," added Bud, who had been so thoroughly occupied in the corral that he had given no heed to what had been taking place outside.
"Lost the stallions?" questioned Tad, elevating his eyebrows.
"Yes, Satan and the Angel."
"Why, Mr. Stevens, we didn't lose them."
"I know, we got them in the corral all right, but that isn't getting them. They always manage to give us the slip somehow."
Tad's eyes danced.