Hector stumbled more than once, and Frank feared he would be thrown. He
even wondered whether it would not be better for him to throw himself to
the ground while he had the chance, and trust to his own legs to carry
him to safety.

Then came the eagerly anticipated flash. Hope sprang anew in his breast,
for he had discovered the trees close at hand. One more gallant effort
on the part of the crippled pony, and they managed to pass behind the
outposts of the timber, just as the beginning of the terrible rushing
stampede swept by.

There Frank sat upon his pony, breathing hard, and patting the poor
animal reassuringly. He could hear the loud cries of the cowboys and Mr.
Mabie as they circled about the terrified cattle, trying by every means
possible to influence them to mill; but in that gloom it was impossible
to carry out the usual tactics, and by degrees the sounds died away far
down the valley.

Frank walked with his lame pony to the ranch house. Here he found his
chums in a fright because of his absence. They were afraid he had been
caught in the mad stampede and ground under the hoofs of the steers.

Mr. Mabie did not show up until long after midnight. The storm had
passed away, and the sky cleared by that time. The boys were sitting up,
waiting, none of them thinking of seeking his bed.

"Hello, Frank, my lad! I'm mighty glad to find you here, safe and sound.
I saw your pony at the stable, and that you had bound up his leg,
showing a sprain. But I was afraid that something more serious had been
the matter. You don't know how relieved I was to see your horse; and