CHAPTER XI

THE T UP AND DOWN


The next day Cal Smith said that a joke was all very well, but
twenty-five miles was far enough to carry it, and he staked Whitey to a
horse to make the rest of the trip with, Whitey to return the horse on
his way back. When they reached Zumbro Creek it hadn't gone down a bit,
except to go down stream, and it was doing that like the dickens. It
certainly was a very bad-tempered-looking creek, but Cal Smith wasn't
afraid of it.

He had brought along all his sons, and a couple of ranch hands, and
instructed them to stand by with ropes, while he took Whitey about a
quarter of a mile up the creek, and the two of them plunged in. Cal
Smith was not going to let any kid try to swim a horse across that creek
by himself.

It was quite a sight to see all those Smith boys standing in a line on
the bank. With the biggest one, Abe, at one end, and the smallest one,
Cal, at the other, and the rest of them standing according to their
sizes, they looked like a flight of steps. And little Cal was too small
to be of any use, but he didn't know that, and some one had given him
the end of a lariat to hold, and he clutched it, and looked as anxious
and important as any one.

All went well with Cal Smith and Whitey until they got to about the
middle of the creek, and then, zowie! the full force of the current hit