Although he realized that Hans might be injured, Frank could not
restrain his laughter, for the spectacle was one to make a wooden image
laugh.
Barney and Ephraim were convulsed.
"Oh!" shouted the Irish lad, holding his hands to his sides and swaying
forward and backward. "See th' broncho play bounce ball wid th'
Doochman!"
"Gol darned if this ain't better'n goin' to ther best circus that ever
struck aour part of the country!" laughed the Vermonter. "I'd ruther see
it than a hull cage of monkeys, b'gosh! Haw! haw! haw!"
"Yah! yah! yah!" sounded the shrill "coon" laugh of Toots. "'Scuse meh,
but I's gotter laff or bu'st mah boiluh fo' suah! land ob
wartermillions! de nex' bounce am gwan teh----Dar he goes!"
The broncho shot forward a short distance, then stopped suddenly, its
forward feet planted solidly.
Over the creature's head sailed Hans, like a huge toad.
In some way the Dutch lad turned in the air and struck on his back.
The others ran forward to see if he was injured.
"Are you hurt?" asked Frank, anxiously, bending over Hans.
The fat lad looked at Merriwell, and slowly the most comical expression
conceivable spread over the broad expanse of his face.
"Nit, I don'd peen hurted alretty yet," he replied; "but you pet my life
I vos goin' to peen britty queek! I vas goin' to got pehindt dot proncho
and teekle his heels a straw mit shust to seen if he could kick uf me a
few prains oudt."
Hans was assisted to his feet. He took a look at the broncho, which was
standing quite still, and then turned and ran, as if afraid of the
creature.
All this was very amusing to the cowboys, who shouted with mirth.
"Wal, if I don't believe I kin ride that critter!" cried Ephraim Gallup,
wagging his head. "I've rid some purty tough nuts in my day."
"Better not try it," warned Frank.
That was just enough to start the Yankee boy.
"By gum! I will try it!" he shouted, and made a rush for the animal.
The deceptive creature stood quite still while Ephraim jumped up and
swung one leg over its back, and then, before the Vermonter could
straighten up in the saddle, the broncho started with wild and eccentric
leaps to scoot around through the party.
"Whoa!" yelled the lank lad, wildly clinging to the creature--"whoa, gol
darn ye! Stan' still a jiffy till I git onter----Wow!"
The broncho performed a twisting evolution that sent Ephraim spinning,
and the twinkling heels of the animal narrowly missed the Vermonter's
head.
Ephraim got up quickly from the ground, placed his arms akimbo, his
hands resting on his hips, and stared at the broncho, which was quite
still, its head drooping and its whole attitude one of dejection and
meekness.
"Wal, may I be chawed to death by 'skeeters if yeou ain't ther darndest
deceivin' critter I ever saw!" he drawled.
Then the cowboys shouted again. They were having fun at the expense of
the tenderfeet.
Frank was enjoying all this, and, at the same time, was watching Indian
Charlie, who had sauntered out of one of the stables and joined the
crowd.
To his surprise the foreman of the Lone Star did not notice him at all,
or pretended not to notice him. Charlie did not look in the direction of
Frank.
"I'll keep my eyes open to see that he doesn't take me by surprise some
time," thought Merriwell.
Charlie sneered at Ephraim.
"What is all this?" he asked. "Tenderfeet can't ride anything."
"To be course not!" nodded one of the punchers near him; "but they seem
to think they kin, an' we're havin' fun with um."
That was quite enough for Frank.
"So they think tenderfeet can't ride anything!" he muttered. "Well, I
don't like to have them believe that."
Then all were surprised to see him walk forward quickly, come up beside
the broncho, and spring into the saddle with a single bound.
The boys gave a shout.
"'Rah for Frank Merriwell!" cried Hodge. "'Rah! 'rah! 'rah!"
"Now ye'll see some roidin'!" came from Barney.
For a moment the broncho stood quite still, as if astonished that a
third person should attempt to ride it, then, with a wild squeal, it
began to plunge and leap and rear and buck in the fiercest manner.
To the astonishment of the cowboys Frank kept his seat in the saddle,
apparently with as much ease as any one of them could have maintained
it.
"Hey! go it!" laughed Merry, finding an opportunity to snatch off his
cap and give it a flourish around his head. "This is the sport! Wake up,
old crowbait!"
It happened that the owner of the horse did not fancy having the animal
called "crowbait." He was angry in a moment.
"Buck him, Comet!" he shouted, waving his arms to the little horse and
making certain gestures--"buck him hard!"
And Comet bucked as hard as he was able, but still the laughing rider
maintained his seat in the saddle.
"Why, this is easy!" declared Frank, who had ridden bucking horses
before and studied their tricks. "This creature doesn't seem to have
much ginger in him."
The boys laughed and applauded, while the cattlemen looked astonished
and disgusted.
"Whatever do yer think o' thet?" said one.
"It's derned queer an onery kid like him kin ride a broncho," admitted
another.
"That's ther feller what knocked Injun Charlie out," said Hank Kildare.
"I'll allow he's a terror."
Charlie happened to be standing near enough to hear the words. His face
reddened, and he said:
"He proved rather handy with his fists," he admitted; "but he didn't
knock me out. I fell backward over the veranda rail, and was stunned. I
reckoned it would be said he did it."
Now up to this time no one had felt like disputing anything Charlie
said, or even hinting that they doubted him. The time had come, however,
when Hank Kildare felt like showing independence.
"Mebbe yer went backward over ther rail, Charlie," he said; "but I don't
reckon ye'll claim ye wasn't pushed?"
Charlie scowled, but forced a sneering smile.
"The kid struck at me, and I stepped backward," he declared. "In doing
so I struck against the rail and fell over upon my head. That is all."
"Wa-al," dryly drawled Kildare, "it's a nice black eye ye'll have to
remember that yar fall."
In the meantime, while this conversation was taking place, Comet had
been doing his best to unseat Merriwell, but had not succeeded. At last
he stopped and stood still, seeming played out and completely disgusted
by failure.
Frank laughed.
"It's easier than I thought," he said.
"That broncho was trained to buck," said Indian Charlie, speaking loudly
enough for Frank to hear. "He isn't much like a natural bucker. The
tenderfoot couldn't stay on the back of a natural bucker a second."
Again Frank laughed, and it was far more expressive than words. That
laugh distinctly said that the foreman of the Lone Star was making a
fool of himself.
Bart Hodge was angry.
"I'll bet Frank Merriwell can ride any broncho on this ranch!" he cried,
addressing no one in particular.
That was exactly what Indian Charlie wanted.
"What will you bet, sir?" he instantly asked.
"A hundred dollars!" cried Hodge, recklessly.
"Done!" exclaimed Charlie. "Put up the money in Rodney's hands. Here is
my william."
He produced a crisp new hundred-dollar bill and flourished it at Bart.
Hodge turned pale, for he suddenly realized that he did not have a
hundred dollars to his name.
"I--I haven't the money," he stammered. "I spoke too quick. If I had it
I would put it up."
"Bah!" sneered Indian Charlie. "You are a bluff! You know he can't ride
an unbroken broncho. Back down, but keep your mouth closed after this."
"Mr. Hodge need not back down," said the cool voice of Frank, who had
dismounted. "I will let him have a hundred dollars, or two hundred, if
he wishes it."
And Frank produced "a roll."
Charlie's eyes snapped. The game was coming all right, after all.
"Hodge has made betting talk, and I have my money ready to put up," he
said. "Let him cover it--if he dares!"
Bart seized the money Frank offered, and Bill Rodney was called forward.
As soon as he understood the terms of the bet the rancher protested.
"Mr. Merriwell is a rider, as I will allow," he said; "but he can't ride
one critter there is on the ranch. No one yere can ride him, an' Pecos
Pete, what is a reg'ler broncho breaker, is goin' to break him as part
of the fun ter-day."
"I presume that is the horse Indian Charlie will expect me to ride?"
said Frank, his lips hardening a bit and a determined look coming to his
handsome face.
"To be course it is."
Charlie was standing near enough to hear this talk, and a sneer curled
the red lips beneath his dark mustache.
"There isn't any blood in those tenderfeet," he said, speaking to one of
the men, but meaning that Frank and Bart should hear. "I've driven them
into their holes."
Hodge looked as if he longed to fly at the sneering man.
"Here is the money!" he cried. "If Merry says so, up she goes!"
Frank nodded a bit, and Bart thrust the money into Rodney's hand. The
rancher did not want to take it, but Indian Charlie was not letting any
time go to waste.
"Here's mine!" he exclaimed, quickly covering the amount.
"Say," broke in Pecos Pete, stepping forward quickly; "this don't go
none whatever. I cotton to this yar tenderfoot, an' I don't want ter see
him murdered."
"There can't be any backing out now!" came triumphantly from the foreman
of the Lone Star. "The money is up. I reckon nobody here wants to chip
into this game."
He glanced around in a way that usually served as a warning to those who
knew him, but, to his surprise and anger, he suddenly discovered that to
a certain extent his former prestige was gone. The men who had known and
feared him did not seem to fear him as in former times.
"Ef this wuz a squar deal fer ther tenderfoot it'd be all right," said
Hank Kildare; "but it ain't that none at all. Ther youngster don't know
what he is goin' up against."
"Thank you," said Frank, quietly. "If I am caught, I'll stand it, that
is all. It will be my funeral, as you say out here."
"Ther boy's got sand," muttered Kildare, as he turned away, "but it's a
shame to run him up against such a game as this. He'll be killed ef
Charlie says he's ter try ter ride Firebrand."
"And that is what I do say!" cried Indian Charlie. "I said there was a
horse on this ranch he couldn't ride, and I meant Firebrand."
"Bring out Firebrand," directed Merriwell, grimly.