Texas did have a lasso, a “rope,” he would have called it; if there was anything on earth he prided himself on it was his skill at “throwin’ a rope.” He had an arm half a foot thick as a result, and had half murdered several venturesome yearlings with it, as our old readers know. Texas was going to show some of the dexterity of that arm right now.
Of course the crowd was simply wild with expectation and curiosity. Even Smithers, from his position in the center of the ring, forgot about his lost twenty, and began turning around and around to see what the rider was doing. The rider was unwinding the lariat from his body. That did not take him very long, and then he flung it into the air and began to whirl it gracefully about his head.
“Whoop!” he roared, getting faster and faster, and driving Smasher at a perfect tear. “Whoop!”
“Hooray!” howled the crowd. “Hooray!”
And then suddenly, having gotten his distance and aim, Texas let drive that lasso. The result electrified and horrified every person in the place. For the noose sailed through the air, and before the amazed Smithers could even raise an arm it settled comfortably over his shoulders and the momentum of the pony jerked it tight as a vise.
The circus proprietor let out a yell that drowned even the roars of the Texan. He imagined himself hurled to the ground and dragged head first about the place. That was what the frightened crowd thought, too, as they sprang up shouting. But Texas had arranged things more wisely than that.
He had gauged the length of the lasso just so that the proprietor felt himself jerked forward and obliged to run to maintain his equilibrium. Onward rushed Smasher in a big circle, and onward also the reluctant, indignant, vociferously protesting Smithers in a little circle near the center of the ring. He could not stop; he could do nothing but run around and around with might and main, while the crowd fairly went into spasms of delight, and Texas roared whoops by the bucketful.
This delicious game continued until the proprietor stopped from sheer exhaustion. He stood still, panting, and before he could move again Texas had worked one more scheme. Around and around he swept in a fast narrowing circle of rope, while Smithers found, to his horror, that his arms were bound tight to his sides, he being swiftly reduced to the state of a mummy or an Indian totem pole. In vain he howled. Texas had the hilarious crowd with him, and he didn’t care. He finished the job neatly and then brought Smasher to a halt, and, dismounting, bowed with mock ceremony to the imprisoned proprietor. Then he pocketed his money with a flourish and marched back to his seat, the cynosure of every eye in the place. The sputtering victim he left to be unwound by one of the circus hands.
It was fully ten minutes before the show could go on. Texas was obliged to get up and bow to an encore three times, while Smithers shook his fist in impotent rage. Smasher was led off meekly. As to him, it may be said here that he never again went on the stage; the poor beast was sold to an itinerant peddler, for he was so docile that a child might ride him after that. But meanwhile, there was more excitement at the circus.
Texas having satiated the applauding multitude, turned to receive the congratulations of his delighted friends. To his surprise, he found that two of them, Mark and Dewey, were missing.