"Even Babe couldn't 'a' done better!" complimented Bud,
enthusiastically.

"'Tisn't over yet!" gasped Nort, for he had hard work ahead of
him, and the dust raised by thousands of hoofs was choking. "Wait
'till I get it to the branding corral!"

He leaned over in his other stirrup, causing the lariat to pull
taut and, the next instant the calf flopped on its side.

"Snake him out, Blaze!" cried Nort to his pony, and the animal
turned and dragged the prostrate calf along over the ground, an
operation not as cruel as it sounds as the surface was inches
thick in soft dust, like flour.

"That's the boy, Nort!" called his cousin Bud. "I knew you could
do it! Now then, Dick! Let's see how you'll make out!"

"I can't throw a rope as good as Nort," answered the stouter lad,
as he urged his pony, Blackie, into the herd. "But here goes!"

Meanwhile Nort had dragged the calf he had cut out to the corral
where the branding was going on. Two cowboys, stationed there for
the purpose, leaped forward and threw the calf over on its side,
for it had managed to struggle to its feet when Nort ceased
dragging it. One man twisted a front leg of the struggling
creature back in a hammerlock and knelt on its neck. The other
took hold of the upper hind leg, and with this hold prevented the
calf from sprawling along on the ground.