The broncos were racing side by side, not ten feet apart. After the first hot wave of panic, that minute they had come face to face with what had seemed certain destruction, Teddy and Roy quickly regained control of themselves. The paralyzing shock of fear passed, and left a cool, clear mind, which seemed to register impressions more vividly than ever before. Each rider knew just what he was to do if he hoped to escape alive. It was as though a huge screen were before them, with the words: “Over this hill--swing left--turn--and shoot.” Neither boy said a word to the other, yet almost as one rider they mounted the incline and bore to the left. Then Teddy yelled: “Now! We’ve gained a little, Roy. You take that big gray hunky. I’ll get the next one--” Reverberating from the closeness of the hills, the guns roared their challenge. The gray wolf, that appeared to be the leader, whirled about in a circle, snapped at his side, fell, and lay still. “There’s one down!” Roy shouted, gripping with his knees the sides of the bobbing pony and raising his revolver for another shot. “That may stop ’em!” The pack, seeing their leader down, hesitated for a moment. Then with the vicious savageness of their breed, they fell upon him. “Wolf--eat--wolf!” Teddy panted hoarsely. “We’ve got a chance, Roy! A chance!” Useless it was to dig frantic heels into the ponies’ ribs. They were expending every ounce of energy they possessed, seeking to lose those horrible yappings. Farther and farther away from that surging mass of bodies they coursed, the wind carrying snarls that drove the frightened horses ever onward. For a moment Roy had a vision of a mangled shape in the midst of digging, prying claws and eager teeth, and the boy grew sick with the thought, feeling that perhaps Teddy or himself might be lying there not motionless, but turning and twisting in obedience to a tug here, a pull there! “Steady, Flash, steady,” Teddy was breathing, the reins tight as iron bands in his hand. “We’re all right now, old boy.” “We can’t keep this pace up!” Roy called tensely. “We’ll kill the broncs! Pull him up, Teddy!” Leaning forward, Roy grasped Star’s neck muscles, just below the mane. He talked in a low tone, as evenly as he could, keeping the trembling gasps out of his voice. Behind them the fierce yelps were growing fainter. Gradually the horses took on a calmer, more controlled gallop. Flash snorted noisily. “All right--I guess,” Roy said doubtfully. He exhaled his breath in a peculiar whistle. Star shook his head and whinnied. “Easy, easy,” Roy soothed. “Save it, bronc. Teddy, keep your gun out. That pack won’t stay put very long. They’ll come again. We’ve got to head for home as quickly as we can. No time to waste.”