keep up with him, but in a few bounds he had passed them.

"Tom wins!" yelled Horace with glee.

But his delight at the success of his ruse was shortlived.

Blackhawk was not accustomed to being beaten and, though ordinarily
he had a good temper, when he was angry he could be very mean.
Accordingly, as though reasoning to himself that he had done his
share in carrying his rider so many miles, when he felt the sharp
cut of the lariat he resented it. And his resentment took the form
of a vicious lunge forward of his head, which enabled him to get
the bits in his teeth, with which advantage no one could control
him.

Despite his greater weight, the ranchman had been close up with the
boys and had noted Blackhawk's action.

Realizing that it would be hopeless to try to overtake the runaway,
and fearing that some injury might befall Tom, Mr. Wilder shouted:

"Rope the black, Bill! He's got the bit!"

Loosening his lariat as quickly as possible, the elder of the
Wilder boys began to whirl it round his head.

"Throw it! throw it!" roared the ranchman, "Can't you see you're
losing ground every second?"

Never before had Bill been called on for so important a cast of his