"Satan."
It seemed to Bob that there was a note of exultation in his voice as he spoke the name but he thought that, perhaps, it was only his imagination. Grasping the pommel of the saddle he vaulted lightly to the seat and grasped the reins.
Now, Bob was an excellent rider, but here he was at a disadvantage owing to the fact that he had always used the English saddle and this one was of the Western type with a high horn in front. Then the stirrup straps were all of two inches too long and he had no time to adjust them for Slats let go the bridle, as soon as he was in the seat. For an instant Satan stood perfectly still as though trying to make up his mind what to do first. Then he turned as if on a pivot and with a suddenness which all but unseated the boy.
"That horse has never had a saddle on before," Sue declared angrily.
"Yes, he has, too," Slats replied. "Grumpy rode him last night."
He did not add that, in spite of Grumpy's experience riding bad horses, he had been thrown three times.
"Well, if he gets hurt you'll hear from me," Sue threatened him.
Meantime, Satan, having failed in his first attempt to unseat his rider, was trying other tricks. Bucking and leaping high in the air and coming down stiff-legged, having failed to accomplish his purpose, he finally succeeded in getting the bit between his teeth and started for the corral.
"Gee, but he can ride," Sue cried clapping her hands.
"If those stirrups were the right length he'd be all right," Jack said. "But as they are they're not much use to him."