"Let me have that rope, I tell you. I'll attend to the pinto for you."
"Here, give it to me," ordered Jim Nance, reaching for the rope which
Tad Butler had taken.
"I can handle him, Mr. Nance."
The "handling" was not easy. Tad was hauled over the best part of an acre of ground ere he succeeded finally in getting an opportunity to cast his own rope. When, however, he did make the cast, the rope caught the pinto by a hind foot, sending the stubborn little beast to the ground. Then Tad was jerked this way and that as the animal sought to kick the foot free.
"Grab the neck rope some of you," he cried.
Nance was the first to obey the command. It was the work of but a moment temporarily to subdue the pinto.
"Take him back. We don't want the critter," ordered the guide.
"I—-I want him," declared Stacy, limping up to the former sleepy beast.
"I'll break him so I guess Stacy can ride him," said Tad. "Ned, will you fetch my saddle and bridle? I can't let go here just yet. Has this fellow ever been ridden?" demanded the boy, looking up at the owner.
"I reckon he has, but not much."