Do your prettiest now!" he called to his horse.

The poor beast was trying his hardest to run well, but making only a
pretense, after all, since that lame leg kept him from speedy progress.
Doubtless Hector, being a cow pony, knew full well the nature of the
peril that menaced them, and if it lay in his power he would bear his
young master to a point of safety.

Frank's heart seemed to be in his throat as he leaned forward and
listened to the rapidly approaching roar of hundreds upon hundreds of
hoofs, mingled with the horrid clashing of horns. Added to this was the
deep-toned thunder and the dazzling flashes of lightning.

Once, when he looked to the left, he could see the moving mass that was
sweeping horribly close. After that he resolutely kept his attention
riveted in front, where the ridge loomed up against the darkened
heavens.

Everything depended upon how far he was from the nearest trees. Seconds
counted with Frank just then. The lightning flashed every quarter of a
minute, and yet it seemed to him that they were ages apart.

With his heart in his throat, as it seemed, he stared ahead, and waited
for the next flash to show him the worst. Unless the trees were close
by, his case seemed hopeless, for the main herd appeared to have pushed
over to this side of the valley, unfortunately, showing that he had
picked the wrong course when he started.

Hector stumbled more than once, and Frank feared he would be thrown. He
even wondered whether it would not be better for him to throw himself to
the ground while he had the chance, and trust to his own legs to carry
him to safety.

Then came the eagerly anticipated flash. Hope sprang anew in his breast,
for he had discovered the trees close at hand. One more gallant effort
on the part of the crippled pony, and they managed to pass behind the
outposts of the timber, just as the beginning of the terrible rushing
stampede swept by.

There Frank sat upon his pony, breathing hard, and patting the poor
animal reassuringly. He could hear the loud cries of the cowboys and Mr.
Mabie as they circled about the terrified cattle, trying by every means
possible to influence them to mill; but in that gloom it was impossible
to carry out the usual tactics, and by degrees the sounds died away far
down the valley.

Frank walked with his lame pony to the ranch house. Here he found his
chums in a fright because of his absence. They were afraid he had been
caught in the mad stampe