At the same moment he threw the whirling, writhing coil of rope with such
sure aim that it settled with beautiful precision over Satan's powerful
shoulders. Before the rope could tighten, however, the black stallion had
whirled, and was again making for the ranchman.
When the horse was almost upon him Mr. Melton once more leaped aside, and
with a dexterous flick on the rope pulled the loop down over Satan's
back. Before the horse could check his headlong speed Mr. Melton had
worked the loop down about his legs. With a quick jerk he pulled it
taut, and Satan, suddenly hobbled, fell to the earth with a crash.
Several of the cowboys ran up, and in a few seconds the stallion was
securely trussed up. The bay stallion in the meantime had retreated to
the farthest corner of the corral, and was standing there dejectedly, all
the fight gone out of him. He was quickly secured and led back into his
own inclosure. Very carefully Satan was then loosed a trifle, and allowed
to struggle to his feet. He was still "hunting trouble," as one of the
men expressed it, but with the confining ropes about his fetlocks was
powerless.
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