"We simply must beat them," called Bill to Larry. "If they get in
first, they'll make us haul all the water and wash dishes--at least
Horace will, if he wins."

Leaning over their ponies' necks and rising in the saddles to
lighten their weight as much as possible, the two elder boys set
out to overtake their brothers.

With spur and lariat end they belabored their mounts and gamely the
horses responded.

Leap by leap they cut down the lead, were soon abreast of the
others and then forged ahead, shouting in triumph as they opened
clear ground between them.

Only about a hundred yards were the leaders from the tree.

Feeling his pony tiring under him, despite his urging, Horace
gasped at Tom:

"Hit Blackhawk with the end of your lasso and then hang on for dear
life!"

Instantly Tom obeyed.

As the big black felt the blow he uttered a snort of rage, jerked
forward his head and seemed to fly over the ground.

Like a flash he caught Bill and Larry. Frantically they strove to