Dick’s eyes were already staring hard toward the “Ogden II.”
“Great Scott; there’s something up!” he cried, putting spurs to his broncho.
“And there’ll be somethin’ down mighty soon, I’m thinkin’!” answered Cranny. “If those boys ever get caught among a herd of stampedin’ steers——”
“They’ll be in the worst fix of their young lives,” Dick flung excitedly over his shoulder.
Riding at a rattling clip among the cattle wasn’t easy work. The animals, frightened by the huge object flying above their heads, were beginning to bellow and paw the ground. The sight of their wild eyes and excited movements, so suggestive of a headlong dash across the prairie, might have given even veteran cowboys a feeling of uneasiness.
But all the lads, from different points on the prairie, unhesitatingly urged their horses into a gallop; and, as they swung along, various currents of longhorns were sent eddying out of their paths.
“We’ll have to get to the biplane, and swing the cows around it!” yelled Cranny Beaumont.
The “Ogden II” was rushing swiftly toward the earth, and he could hear the steady hum of its motor rising above the clatter of his horse’s hoofs. The big lad was now in his element; his eyes flashed with excitement and determination. Skilfully he guided his horse between the longhorns, sometimes finding a great hulking body lumbering along at his side. Cranny realized that any instant the living barriers which shut him off from the open plain might begin an irresistible rush. Dick Travers was riding just ahead.
Cranny, anxious to be the first on the scene, threw his whole energy into the task, and within a few minutes, he had overtaken and was slowly forging ahead of his nearest rival.
As the “Ogden II” approached the ground the commotion among the animals rapidly increased; they were scattering wildly in all directions, threatening at every instant to collide with the bronchos.