All at once the buckskin gave a semi–turn while in the air. It was a variation of the regular “buck” that would have unseated half the veteran cowboys perched on the corral fence watching the fight between boy and broncho. “Good fer you, kid!” they shouted enthusiastically, as Jack maintained his seat. “Stick to it, Jack!” chimed in the voices of Ralph and Walt. But it is doubtful if Jack heard any of the applause. He was too busy watching Dynamite’s antics. Suddenly the pony rushed straight at the corral fence and tore along it as closely as he could without cutting his hide. His object was to scrape off the hateful human who stuck so persistently to his back. But Jack was as quick as the buckskin and as the pony dashed along the fence he had one leg up over the saddle and out of harm’s way. All at once Dynamite paused. Then up went his head, his fore feet beat the air furiously. Straight up he reared till he was standing almost erect. Then without the slightest warning he toppled over backward. A shout of alarm went up from the punchers, but Jack did not need it. As the pony crashed to earth Jack was not there. He had nimbly leaped from the saddle and to one side. Before the buckskin could rise again Jack was straddling the saddle. As the animal sprang up Jack was back in his seat once more with a sadly perplexed broncho under him. Dynamite had tried everything, and more too, that he had used on the ranch riders and all had failed to remove the incubus on his back. “Good for you, Jack. You’ve finished him!” yelled Walt Phelps. “Don’t be too sure,” warned Mr. Reeves, who was standing by the boys. “See the way those ears are set? That means more trouble coming.” The words had hardly left the ranch owner’s mouth before the “trouble” came. Dynamite darted off as if he had been impelled from a cannon’s mouth. Then all at once he set his legs stiff and slid along the ground, ploughing up dusty furrows with his hoofs in the soft earth of the corral. Had Jack not been prepared for some such maneuver, he might have been unseated. But he had guessed that something more was coming off and so he was prepared. Hardly had Dynamite come to his abrupt stop before he threw himself on his side and rolled over. If Jack had been there, he would have been crushed by the pony’s weight—but he wasn’t. As the pony rolled Jack stepped out of the saddle on the opposite side. The moment he slipped off he picked up the loose end of the lariat which was still around the pony’s neck. “Yip! Get up!” he cried. Dynamite, not thinking of anything but that he was free at last, was off like a shot. But, alas! he reckoned without his host. As the little animal darted off Jack took a swift turn of the rope around the snubbing post. When Dynamite reached the end of the rope he got the surprise of his life. His feet were jerked from under him and over he went in a heap.