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But Bowlaigs quits game; he turns with a warwhoop an' confers on the Major a swat that would have broke the back of a bronco; an' then he dies with his teeth in the Major's neck. "The Major only lives a half hour after we gets thar. An' it's to his credit that he makes a statement exoneratin' Bowlaigs.
He suspected that it had cost his father not a little to make these advances. "Do you believe you and I could get along, Judge? How long do you think it would last?" "I've considered that some," answered the Honourable Hilary, "but I won't last a great while longer myself." "You're as sound as a bronco," declared Austen, patting him. "I never was what you might call dissipated," agreed Mr.
Bob felt a sudden sick sense of helplessness. The earth was cut out from under him. He crouched low and tried to cling to the slippery hide as it bounced forward. Each leap of the bronco upset him. Within three seconds he had ridden on his head, his back, and his stomach. Wildly he clawed at the rope as he rolled over. With a yell the rider swung a corner.
Whoa!" commanded Grace sharply, at the same time hurling her sombrero into the face of the runaway. Instead of slowing down, he came on with a rush, and Grace, who was now directly in his path, saw that she could not avoid a collision. The bronco ridden by Grace braced himself, seeming to know instinctively what was coming.
"Any one o' these except the roan with the white stockings an' the pinto," he said. Dillon walked through the gate of the enclosure and closed it. He adjusted the rope, selected the bronco that looked to him the meekest, and moved toward it. The ponies began to circle close to the fence. The one he wanted was racing behind the white-stockinged roan. For a moment it appeared in front.
Heavy travel continued over the bridge all afternoon a prairie schooner with three oxen, two mules and a bronco pulling it; a prospector in his red flannel undershirt, driving a laden donkey; a hurdy-gurdy troupe on its way to the barbecue; a stage-coach drawn by six half-broken wild horses; an old Spanish settler on a beautiful, black thoroughbred; a late arrival from Oregon, mounted upon a sturdy mule with his young wife upon a pillion behind him, and a whole drove of China-men being taken out to work a white man's claim up on the Divide.
Straight in the teeth of the wind they travelled; in the teeth of the south wind, that stung their faces like a whiplash. Before very long they sighted the Rumpety wagon showing plainly against the snow in the starlight. The road went most of the way down-hill, and wagon and bronco made good speed. The air grew colder every minute. "About ten below, shouldn't you say, Pincher?"
Why in the name of hoss-stealin' he ever yearns for that young-one is allers too many for me. "When the abductor hears how Mace is on his trail, which he does from other Mexicans, he swings onto his bronco an' begins p'intin' out, takin' boy an' all. But Mace has got too far up on him, an' stops him mighty handy with a rifle.
Now, one night in New York there are commemorations and libations by old comrades, and in the morning, Mounted Policeman O'Roon, unused to potent liquids another premise hazardous in fiction finds the earth bucking and bounding like a bronco, with no stirrup into which he may insert foot and save his honor and his badge. Noblesse oblige? Surely.
Bronco Charlie was to remain with the horses, holding them in readiness. At a spot where it was calculated the engine would be when the train stopped, Bud King was to lie hidden on one side, and Black Eagle himself on the other. The two would get the drop on the engineer and fireman, force them to descend and proceed to the rear. Then the express car would be looted, and the escape made.
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