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Updated: May 21, 2025
"You fellers keep behind, now -and hold the Injuns back fer a minute er two," Applehead yelled while he set himself squarely in the saddle, gathered up his reins as though he were about to "top a bronk" and jabbed the spurs with a sudden savageness into Johnny's flanks. "GIT outa here!" he yelled, and Johnny with an astonished lunge, "got."
Whether the Thunder Bird rode head down or tail down he neither knew nor cared. Nor did Johnny. As he yelled he looped and he dived, he did tail spins and every other spin that occurred to him. For the time being he was "riding straight up and fanning her ears," and his aerial bronk was pulling off stunts he would never have attempted in cold blood.
Bland Halliday pounded along in the saddle, tears of pain in his opaque eyes, caused by having bitten his tongue twice. "For cat's sake, is this the only way of getting to your camp?" he gasped, when Johnny and the bronk mercifully slowed to climb a steep arroyo bank.
The last that came to him, some one was chanting relishfully: Mamma had a precious lamby his cheeks were red and rosy; And when he rode the festive bronk, he tumbled on his nosey. There was more; but Pink had gone to sleep, and so missed it. At sundown he awoke and went out to saddle the night horse Chip had caught for him, and then went to bed again.
Got back here a little ways beyond the stable with two barrels sloshing over the top, and the cat not this one, but a black-and-white cat, that was the cat jumped out from behind a buck brush. Hot dog! That bronk went straight in the air! Remember that time?" Luck leaned back in his chair to laugh. "I shore do," Applehead chuckled.
Wild Jo Calone knew a 'bronk right down to subsoil. "I never seen a white that wasn't soft, nor a chestnut that wasn't nervous, nor a bay that wasn't good if broke right, nor a black that wasn't hard as nails, an' full of the old Harry. All a black bronk wants is claws to be wus'n Daniel's hull outfit of lions."
I reckon I'll wish you was a bronk before I'm through " "What maddens me so that I could run amuck down this street, shooting everybody I saw," Jean flared out suddenly, "is the sickening injustice of it. Dad never did that; you know he never did it." She turned upon him fiercely. "Do you think he did?" she demanded, her eyes boring into his.
They started together and ran neck and neck for a quarter of a mile, then pulled rein, as this was a mere warm-up. Then they returned to the starting post, and the cowboy jockey on the buckskin said: "Well, boys, he's a good bronk, but I don't seem to feel any blood in him."
It was Mart's hour for a drive, and you were interfering with one of her duties. I think she treated you very well." "Anyhow, she's coming, and so is Helen. It tickled Helen nearly into fits, of course, and she's coming just to see me 'put to it to manage these wet valley bronchos." "The girl may look like a bronk, but she's got good blood in her.
If you think I'm running a sight-seeing bus, you'd better tie a can to the thought. My time ain't my own yet. I can get by, this trip, because the bronk I'm riding needed the exercise; or I can say he did, and it will get over. But I don't expect to be riding in to the railroad every day or so. If I get another chance in a month, I'll say I'm lucky." "Well, I'd like to help you out all right.
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