"You were right, Frank," whispered Lanky, catching hold of his companion's arm with his fingers and pinching harder than he intended. "I just glimpsed the fellow going inside. He's left the gate wide open too! Listen to the ponies snort and plunge, will you?"
"Get a move on, Lanky! We ought to be nearer the gate, so as to turn the horses back if they try to break loose."
Lanky was only too willing, since such a move promised to bring them to close grips with the possible horse-thief should the fellow start to rush from the corral after securing a mount.
The confusion inside the pen grew rapidly worse.
"He's trying to rope a pony he's picked out as a prize!" breathed the excited Lanky.
"We'd have him in a nice trap if we closed the gate of the corral and whooped for the boys to come on the jump!" suggested Frank, spurred on by the apparent necessity of doing something speedily.
"Good idea, too!" the other burst out, no longer caring who heard his voice, for the matter had by then about reached the crisis.
"Quick! He's coming full tilt, Lanky! Swing the heavy gate around this way and let me fasten it!"
It might have turned out better, if only they had conceived it a few seconds sooner. As it was, the rushing pony, urged on by savage kicks from a pair of spurred heels, was bearing down straight upon the two boys.
"Look out, Frank!" shrilled Lanky, as he saw a towering form between his eyes and the bright moon. At the same time he ducked in hopes of getting out of the way of the bronco's furious rush.