With spur and lariat end they belabored their mounts and gamely the horses responded.
Leap by leap they cut down the lead, were soon abreast of the others and then forged ahead, shouting in triumph as they opened clear ground between them.
Only about a hundred yards were the leaders from the tree.
Feeling his pony tiring under him, despite his urging, Horace gasped at Tom:
"Hit Blackhawk with the end of your lasso and then hang on for dear life!"
Instantly Tom obeyed.
As the big black felt the blow he uttered a snort of rage, jerked forward his head and seemed to fly over the ground.
Like a flash he caught Bill and Larry. Frantically they strove to keep up with him, but in a few bounds he had passed them.
"Tom wins!" yelled Horace with glee.
But his delight at the success of his ruse was shortlived.