Ticktock watched all this practice with good-natured scorn. He had seen experts twirling a lariat and had no illusions about Jim’s ability. A number of times when Jim would fail miserably in a cast at a fence post, Ticktock would open his jaws and give an unmistakable horse laugh. However, he was an indulgent horse and realized Jim was young. So, when Jim got to the stage of attempting to lasso from horseback, Ticktock patronizingly coöperated.
A dummy was constructed of bags wrapped around a pole set in a heavy wooden base. This fake man was set up in the drive and Jim would dash past madly, astride Ticktock, whirling his lariat. About one cast in four his noose would encircle the dummy. Then the end of the lariat would be wrapped around the saddle horn and the horse and rider would drag their victim triumphantly down the drive.
Practicing one thing for too long a period grew tiresome, especially when the average of success was as low as it was with Jim’s roping endeavors. So he would alternate with teaching Ticktock to jump. First a long two-by-four was laid on two bricks about six inches from the ground. Jim would ride up to the improvised bar at a full gallop, part of the time swerving away or stopping, and other times urging his horse over the bar. Ticktock caught on to the new game in a surprisingly short time. He was prepared to jump or swerve at the slightest sign from his master. The bar kept creeping higher and higher until Jim was certain his mustang could sail over any ordinary fence.
Jim was feeling particularly jaunty and complacent one morning, for he had made three perfect casts in a row during his roping practice. After the third cast he jumped off his horse, freed the dummy from the noose, and carelessly set the apparatus upright very near a small evergreen tree bordering the drive. Remounting, he went all the way to the front gate for his next approach. He came down the lane at a full gallop swinging an exceptionally large noose. As he tore past the dummy, he swung wildly. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the loop encircle the dummy. Jim wrapped the end of his lariat around the saddle horn and braced himself as if he had just roped a huge steer. It was well he did, for unfortunately the noose caught the evergreen also. There was a terrific tug on the lariat and before the horse and rider could stop, half the branches on the little evergreen had been ripped off and were being dragged down the lane with the dummy.
Jim stopped the pony and wheeled to gaze in dismay at the havoc he had wrought. It was a sorry-looking tree with the upper half naked and torn. While Jim was considering what to do next, he discovered that he wasn’t the only one staring at the tree. His mother was standing on the front porch, hands on hips, looking at the evergreen. Her face boded no good for the cowboy and his horse. Mrs. Meadows was very proud of her lawn and flowers. The trim little evergreen had been one of her pet trees.
“Young man, what do you think you are doing with that rope of yours?” she demanded sternly.
“Lassoing,” said Jim humbly.
“So I see. Well, there will be no more lassoing around here if you have to practice on my trees.”
“I didn’t mean to,” explained Jim. “I was roping the dummy.”