ed back on Molly's bridle reins. The cow-pony began to
slide, haunches down and forelegs stiffened. The loop dropped over the
head of the black steer.

Had Blackwater been a heavier animal, he would have overborne Frances
and her mount at the moment the rope became taut. For it was not a good
job at all--that particular roping Frances was afterward ashamed of.

To catch a big steer in full flight around the neck only is to court
almost certain disaster; but Blackwater did not weigh more than nine
hundred pounds.

Nor was Molly directly behind him when Frances threw the lariat. The
rope tautened from the side--and at the very instant the mad steer
collided with Sue Latrop's mount.

The wicked head of the steer banged against the horse's body, which gave
forth a hollow sound; the horse himself squealed, stumbled, and went
over with a crash.

Fortunately Sue had known enough to loosen her foot from the stirrup. As
Frances lay back in her own saddle, and she and Molly held the black
steer on his knees, Pratt drove his mount past the stumbling horse, and
seized the Boston girl as she fell.

She cleared her rolling mount with Pratt's help. Otherwise she would
have fallen under the heavy carcase of the horse and been seriously
hurt.

Blackwater had crashed to the ground so hard that he could not
immediately recover his footing. He kicked with a hind foot, and Frances
caught the foot expertly in a loop, and so got the better of him right
then and there. She held the brute helpless until Sam and his assistants
reached the spot.

It was Pratt who had really done the spectacular thing. It looked as
though Sue Latrop owed her salvation to the young man.

"Hurrah for Pratt!" yelled one of the other young fellows from the city,
and most of the guests--both male and female--took up the cry. Pratt had
tumbled off his own grey pony with Sue in his arms.

"You're re'lly a hero, Pratt! What a fine thing to do," the girl from
Boston gasped. "Fancy my being under that poor horse."

The horse in question was struggling to his feet, practically unhurt,
but undoubtedly in a chastened spirit. One of the boys from the branding
pen caught his bridle.

Pratt objected to the praise being showered upon him. "Why, folks, I
didn't do much," he cried. "It was Frances. She stopped the steer!"

"You saved my life, Pratt Sanderson," declared Sue Latrop. "Don't deny
it."

"Lots of good I could have done if that black beast had been able t