As Grace had expected, the bucking was resumed the instant the
pony felt the smart of the crop. How the dust did fly then, and
how those cowboy wranglers did yell!

"Who's a tenderfoot!" howled Hippy Wingate. "Just watch her
smoke."

Grace Harlowe's whole body was weary, but her grit was not
diminishing in the least. However, she decided that the time had
arrived when she must do a little fighting for herself, and not
leave it all to the pony, so, having arrived at this decision,
Grace watched narrowly for a favorable opportunity to begin.

The opportunity came a few seconds later when the horse threw up
his head preparatory to pitching forward in another series of
savage bucks. Grace jerked the animal's head to one side, brought
her quirt down sharply, and, at the same time, jabbed the little
black fighter with her spurs.

She continued to apply this treatment for several seconds until
the bronco, goaded to a change of tactics, whirled and started
away at a run, driving straight through the assembled crowd. The
crowd fled for their lives with Grace unable now to do more than
stay on the saddle.

The black had not gone far before he stopped as suddenly as he had
started, stopped stiff-legged, braced himself and slid on his feet
through the alkali for several yards.

Grace Harlowe had been alert for this very thing, but just the