almost to the earth, but he came up again with a snort and a strangled
neigh of rage. "Are
you ready?" called Dunbar, gathering
the reins, and giving the string of his quirt another
twist around his right hand. One of his men had mounted his horse with a
rope, the noose
end of which was around Diablo's neck. This
would serve as a pivot
block to keep Diablo running in a circle. If he tried to run in a
straight line the running noose would stop him and choke him down. He
would have to gallop in a circle for his bucking, and to help keep him
in that circle, the spectators now grouped themselves loosely in a wide
rim. But Bull Hunter did not move. From where he stood he could see all
that
he wished. "All ready!" called the man with the rope. "Let her go,
then!" The bandage was torn from the eyes
of the stallion by Dunbar's second assistant,
and the fellow leaped aside as he did so. Even
then he barely escaped. Diablo had launched himself in pursuit, and his
teeth snapped a fraction of an inch from the shoulder of the fugitive as
the rope came taut and jerked him aside, and the full weight of Dunbar
was thrown back
on the reins. That mighty wrench
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