The stranger was close to the bay's off, or right, side.
"The other side, Patches," called Phil genially. "You want to start in
right, you know."
Not a man laughed--except the stranger.
"Thanks," he said, and came around to the proper side.
"Take your time," called Phil again. "Stand by his shoulder and watch
his heels. Take the stirrup with your right hand and turn it to catch
your foot. Stay back by his shoulder until you are ready to swing up.
Take your time."
"I won't be long," returned Patches, as he awkwardly gained his seat in
the saddle.
Phil moved his horse nearer the center of the corral, and shook out his
loop a little.
"When you're ready, lean over and pull up the blindfold," he called.
The man on the horse did not hesitate. With every angry nerve and muscle
strained to the utmost, the powerful bay leaped into the air, coming
down with legs stiff and head between his knees. For an instant the man
miraculously kept his place. With another vicious plunge and a
cork-screw twist the maddened brute went up again, and this time the man
was flung from the saddle as from a gigantic catapult, to fall upon his
shoulders and back in the corral dust, where he lay still.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89