“Waal, good–bye, kid, we’ll hev yer remains shipped back home,” shouted a facetious puncher from the group perched on the fence. “Dynamite ’ull send you so high you’ll get old coming down,” yelled another. “Better let the job out, kid,” said Bud. “We don’t want to commit murder round here.” “I guess I’m the best judge of that,” spoke Jack quickly. “Get ready to cut loose that rope when I give the word, and take the lasso off the snubbing post.” [Illustration: THEN BEGAN A SERIES OF AMAZING BUCKS.] This was quickly done and Dynamite stood free, but still blindfolded. Jack poised on his tip toes and gave a light run forward. His hands were seen to touch the saddle and the next instant he was in it. He leaned forward and lifted the blindfold. For an instant Dynamite stood shivering, his ears laid back, his eyes rolling viciously. Then, before the broncho knew what had happened, Jack’s quirt came down on his flank heavily. “Yip!” yelled the cow–punchers. “Yip! Yip!” called Jack, and hardly had the words left his mouth before he was flying through the air over the pony’s head. Dynamite’s first buck had unseated him. Mr. Reeves ran forward anxiously as Jack plowed the ground. But his anxiety was needless. By the time he reached the boy’s side Jack was up again, brushing the dirt of the corral from his clothing. He was pale but determined. “You see, I told you it was impossible,” said the ranch owner. “Give it up.” “Give it up!” exclaimed Jack. “Why, I’ve only just begun.” “The kid’s got grit,” exclaimed a cowboy who had heard this last. “Yep, more grit than sense, I reckon,” chimed another. Jack picked up his rope once more and recaptured the buckskin, which was trotting about the corral, apparently feeling that the fight was over and he had won. Once more Bud held the rope while Jack vaulted into the saddle. This time, however, there was no preliminary pause. Dynamite plunged straight into his program of unseating tactics. With a vicious squeal the pony’s hind feet shot out and the next instant as Jack jerked the little animal’s head up it caroomed into the air, coming down with a stiff–legged jolt that jarred every nerve in Jack’s body. Then began a series of amazing bucks. It seemed impossible that anybody, much less a mere boy, could have stuck to the pony’s back through such an ordeal. “Wow! Dynamite’s sure steamboatin’ some!” yelled the cow–punchers. Suddenly Dynamite ceased bucking. “Look out for a side–jump!” shouted Mr. Reeves; but, even as he spoke, it came. The broncho gave a brain–twisting leap to the left, causing Jack to sway out of his saddle to the right. Luckily he caught the pommel and cantle just in time to save himself from being thrown. Dynamite seemed surprised that he had not unseated his rider by his favorite and oft–tried method. He repeated his famous side–jump. But Jack stuck like a cockle–burr to a colt’s tail.