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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Every well-organised mule team that a-way allers carries along a bronco. This little steed, saddled an' bridled, trots throughout the day by the side of the off-wheeler, his bridle-rein caught over the wheeler's hame. The bronco is used to round up the mules in event they strays or declines in the mornin' to come when called. Sech bein' the idee, the cayous is allers kept strictly in camp.
She assumed a cowboy-like strut as she made this assertion, shaking her head in a bronco gesture which dashed the dark hair from her eyes and made her look like an unbroken thoroughbred.
But it was this same far-seeing policy which, even in a good year when there was feed everywhere, would not permit them to spare the upper range. For two seasons with great toil and danger they had fought their way up onto Bronco Mesa and established their right to graze there to go around now would be to lose all that had been gained.
His weary bronco he had long since sold for ten dollars at a cow town where he had sacked his saddle to be held at a livery stable until sent for. By blind baggage he had ridden a night and part of a day. For a hundred miles he had actually paid his fare. The next leg of the journey had been more exciting. He had elected to travel by freight.
Hoping fervently that it was her own little spirited Blackie, Grace urged her mount forward at a lively clip and bore down on the bronco who began edging off when he saw her heading for him. "It's Elfreda's pony!" cried Grace. "Here, boy; here, boy!" she called. The "lost" animal kicked up its heels and started away at a gallop, with Grace Harlowe in full pursuit.
Grace patted the neck of the black bronco, and Tom assisted her to the saddle. Blackie began to prance, but, though he threatened to buck, he did not. Grace finally subdued him and sat waiting for her companions to mount, all of whom managed the operation successfully, though Emma Dean was twice nearly unhorsed.
My first big thrill came when he leaped. This was a surprise. He was fooling round, and then, all of a sudden, he broke water clear. It was an awkward, ponderous action, and looked as if he had come up backward, like a bucking bronco. His size and his long, sinister sword amazed me and frightened me. It gave me a cold sensation to realize I was hooked to a huge, dangerous fish.
She knew them all, knew that the "hearse-driver" was the man who kept the cases, knew all the code of the "inside life." To her it was all as an open page, and she memorized more quickly than did Toby the signs by which the Bronco Kid proposed to signal what card he had smuggled from the box or held back.
Elfreda Briggs regarded the overcast sky for a moment, then turned inquiringly to the guide. "Fog?" she asked. "No. Bad storm. Better go to bed with your clothes on to-night," advised the guide. "Is it so serious as that, Mr. Lang?" "It may be. Nobody can figure on anything on this desert storms, water, everything here is as contrary as an outlaw bronco.
Shouts of laughter rose louder and louder over the campus, and dormitory windows were thrown up here and there while the occupants of the rooms thrust out their heads to get a view of what was going on. "Get up, you bucking bronco!" yelled Campbell, and once more brought the whip down on the sorrel.
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