the bank and leaped in, striking out for the spot where
Stacy had last been seen.

Cattle were scattered here and there and the boy had to keep his eyes
open to prevent being run down. He had almost reached the place where he
had made up his mind to dive, should Stacy not rise to the surface, when
a great shout from the bluff caused Tad to turn.

"Wha--what is it?" he called.

"Look! Look!" cried Ned Rector.

"I don't see anything. Is it Chunky? Is he all right?"

"Yes. He's driving oxen just now," answered Ned.

By this time the cowpunchers had joined in the shouting. Tad could see,
however, that they were shouting with merriment, though for the life of
him he could not understand what there was to laugh about.

Several steers were between him and the spot on which the glances of the
others were fixed.

"Come on in," called Ned.

The lad swam shoreward with slow, easy strokes. Then he discovered what
they were laughing at.

Stacy, grasping desperately as he went down, had caught the tail of a
swimming steer. He had been quickly drawn to the surface, and out
through an opening between the treading animals, appeared the fat boy's
head.

Chunky was not swimming. He was allowing the steer to do that for him,
clinging to its tail with all his strength. The lad's eyes were blinded
for the moment by the water that was in them. He did not release his
hold of the tail when they had reached the shore, but hung on
desperately while the steer, dragging him along through the mire,
scrambled up the bank.

There was no telling how long Stacy might have hung to the animal's
tail, had not Stallings grabbed him by the collar as he rose over the
crest of the bank. Stallings shook him until the water-soaked clothes
sent out a miniature rain storm and the boy had coughed himself back to
his normal condition.

"Well, you are a nice sort of cowboy," laughed the foreman. "When you
are unable to do anything else to interest your friends, you try to
drown yourself. Go, shake yourself!"

Stacy rubbed the water from his eyes.

"I--I fell in, didn't I?" he grinned.

After having ferried the trail wagon over, everybody was ready for
supper. No one seemed to mind the wetting he had gotten. Professor
Zepplin made a joke of his own bedraggled condition, and the boys gave
slight heed to theirs.

The cattle were quickly bedded down and guards placed around them almost
immediately, for the clouds were threatening. Stallings' watchf