“Then this throw must be the unlucky one,” said Fred, in reply, “for he has certainly missed.”
When Fred spoke Archie’s horse was standing motionless, and his rider was hauling in his lasso hand over hand. If he had failed in one thing he was successful in another, for his sudden charge had assisted the horses to decide a point they were unable to decide for themselves. It showed them that the only safe way of retreat was toward the gully, and into it they went with all the speed of which they were capable, every one of them giving a wide berth to the tree behind which had stood the object that occasioned their alarm. Fred and Eugene, although greatly disappointed, had seen a sight they would not have missed for a good deal. They had seen a lasso thrown at a wild horse, and that was something to put into the next letter they wrote to their friend Wilson. When they came up with Archie they found him bent half double, holding his horse by the bridle and peeping up under the bushes which covered the side of the gully.
“Well, you didn’t catch him, did you?” exclaimed Eugene.
“No, but I did my best, and if my lariat had been a little longer, I’d have had a different story to tell, for I made as straight a throw for his head as I ever made in my life. But I am encouraged after all. I know that my horse has had good training and can be depended on. When the lasso left my hand he stopped as if he had been shot. If I can only get another chance like that the bay is ours.”
“Has one of them gone up there?” asked Fred, seeing that Archie was still peering under the bushes.
“What was it that made such a commotion among them?” inquired Eugene.
“The horses have all gone on down the gully, but the thing that frightened them went up here,” replied Archie.
“What was it?”