The lad was on his feet almost instantly. When they saw that be had
not been seriously injured the boys set up a defiant yell.

"Hurt you any?" grinned the cowboy.

"Only my pride," answered Tad, with a sheepish smile. "I never had
that happen to me before."

"Other ponies got in your way so you couldn't throw your rope down
on the pink-eyed one and trip him. I'll get him out for you."

"You will do nothing of the sort. I can rope my own stock."

After having obtained another lariat, Tad, not deeming it wise to
attempt to try to pick up the rope that the animal was dragging
about the corral, once more took his station, while the cowman began
milling them around the enclosure by sundry shouts and prods.

There was much kicking and squealing.

"Now cut him out!" shouted Tad.

The cowboy did so. Pink-eye was beating a tattoo in the air with
his heels. He was occupying a little open space all by himself at
that moment.

The rope again curled through the air. Tad gave it a quick
undulating motion after feeling the pull on the pony's neck, and the
next moment the little animal fell heavily to his side.