"Go!"
Both lads uttered a sharp yell, at the same time giving their spurs a gentle pressure, and away they went across the blazing alkali, their tough little ponies steaming in the intense heat as they straightened out, entering into the spirit of the contest with evident enthusiasm.
"See those boys ride," laughed the guide, pausing in his argument on the wild-horse question: "I didn't suppose the fat boy could sit in a saddle like that."
"Oh, yes; he does well. You saw him master the bucker the other day in the mountains?"
"Yes, I remember. Whoa! Look out, there! There goes one of them! He took too short a turn."
"Walter's down!" cried Ned.
"Hope he isn't hurt."
"No; he's cleared all right. That was a mighty quick move the way he slipped out of that saddle. It would have broken his leg sure, if the pony had fallen on it," declared the guide.
Stacy had pulled up his own mount after making the turn safely. Then he rode slowly back.
"Hurt you any, Walt?" he asked.