He didn't know exactly what was coming, but wanted to be ready for it,
whatever it was to be.
Suddenly Ted gave a short, swift run, leaped in the air, and before
Bingo could gather himself for a plunge, Ted was astraddle of the
saddle.
Bingo remembered his part then, but he was too late, for simultaneously
he felt the sting of the quirt across his shoulder, and the prick of the
spur in his flank.
A horse can think of only one thing at a time, while a mule can pay
attention to the mule-skinner's lash and think of forty-seven varieties
of devilment at the same time.
In trying to keep his mind on the sting of the quirt and the prick of
the rowels at the same time, Bingo got rattled.
He leaped high into the air, intending to fall backward, and crush his
rider. But Ted had been there before many times, and as he went up a
stinging blow across Bingo's withers brought him down in a hurry.
Then he did some more plunging, but the spur in his side, and Ted's firm
seat, soon convinced him that it was wasting time to fool with Ted, and
he set off at a gallop across the prairie.
With a ringing cheer the boys followed, and soon caught up with him.
When they were together again, Ted paired the boys off to scout.
"I'll tell you how you will probably find it, fellows," said Ted.
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