Quickly the elder of the Wilder boys rode forward, and as the prostrate pony felt the rope loosen he bounded to his feet.
With skilled eye the ranchman looked him over and there was a world of relief in his voice as he said:
"We got out of that scrape mighty luckily. There isn't a scratch on Blackhawk, and if Tom's——"
"There's no scratch on me either," returned the boy. "But what about the race, do I win or not?"
"Considering you flew from Blackhawk's back almost to the tree, I reckon you do," declared Mr. Wilder.
And looking up, Tom noticed that he was, indeed, standing under the branches of the tree that marked the goal.
CHAPTER VIII
HORACE IN DANGER
As the others reached the tree they dismounted, unbuckled the saddle bags and removed the saddles.
"Well, commander, do you wish me to select a place to hobble the ponies?" asked Mr. Wilder, addressing Tom.