Connie felt a trifle stunned by the conversation which she had overheard.

“I’d never have believed it if I hadn’t heard with my own ears,” she thought. “Pop Bradshaw, who has stood for everything honest and square in this community! For five hundred dollars he means to keep Catapult out of the rodeo, substituting a steer which Blakeman will be sure to throw in the bulldogging event!”

The girl mounted Silvertail and started slowly Back toward the ranch. She rode along in deep thought for a time.

“I’ll not let Blakeman get by with it!” she exclaimed. “It’s a cheap, contemptible trick!”

Connie was smiling by the time she reached the ranch. She knew exactly what to do. Calling Lefty and Alkali she asked them casually if bets were running heavy on the bulldogging event.

“Sure, Blakeman’s goin’ to lose his shirt,” Lefty grinned. “He’s been coverin’ everything in sight.”

“He hasn’t a chance against Catapult,” added Alkali with satisfaction.

“That’s just the point I was about to bring up,” said Connie quietly. “Supposing another steer should be substituted for Catapult?”

“There’s no chance of that,” declared Lefty. “Pop Bradshaw entered old Catapult two weeks ago.”

“Well, I’ve just learned something which will interest you. Pop plans to substitute another steer for Catapult—one which resembles him in appearance, I judge.”

Connie then repeated every word of the conversation she had heard in the restaurant.

“Why, the dirty crook!” exclaimed Lefty. “No wonder Blakeman was so willin’ to cover all bets. He thought he’d clean up pretty!”

“We got to do something about this!” muttered Alkali. “Let’s protest to the committee.”

“An’ spoil all the fun?” said Lefty. “No, I got a better idea! We’ll kidnap old Catapult tonight and sneak him into the rodeo barns! Then Pop can’t squawk without givin’ himself and the whole scheme away.”

“That idea ain’t nothin’ to whoop ’em up about,” complained Alkali. “That mountain medder is in plain sight of Pop’s house. It’s surrounded by hills and there’s just one way out. That’s down the trail past Pop’s buildings.”

“We can do it real quiet-like so he won’t ketch us,” insisted Lefty.

“Don’t you reckon Catapult’s tracks on the trail will show?” Alkali asked jeeringly.

“Trust Papa,” replied Lefty with a mysterious grin.

The two cowboys separated, after pledging Connie to secrecy regarding their proposed adventure. Lefty immediately rode to Red Gulch to hold a confidential consultation with Jack Crawford who was in charge of the barns at the rodeo.

In an hour Forest Blakeman returned to the ranch without explaining where he had been. But all that day he was aware of curious stares which followed him. He could feel that something was in the air. Now and then coming unexpectedly upon a group of cowboys he would hear his name being mentioned. In anger he vented his spite upon Jim Barrows.

The day passed slowly. Connie went to her room early but she did not go to bed. Instead she read until nearly midnight. Then she snapped out her light and sat by the window.

In a short time she saw Lefty and Alkali emerge from the bunkhouse carrying several gunnysacks. At their shrill whistle, she quickly joined them.

Alkali led Silvertail and two broncos down to the main road where they all mounted.

“What are you planning to do with the gunnysacks?” Connie asked curiously as they rode toward the Bradshaw Ranch.

“I’m aimin’ to tie ’em on Catapult’s hooves so he won’t leave no tracks,” explained Lefty.

“Ain’t that the dizziest idear any sane guy ever had?” demanded Alkali. “How we goin’ to get gunnysacks on Catapult? Maybe you think he’ll just hold up his feet nice an’ purty like he was in a shoe shop!”

“Now see here,” Lefty said sharply. “Are you with me or ain’t you?”

“Oh, I’m with you all right,” drawled Alkali, “but my doubts sure are percolatin’.”

All was still about the Bradshaw Ranch as the three rode quietly into the mountain meadow. No lights were burning in the house.

Connie and the two cowboys tied their horses to a clump of cottonwood trees. Lefty removed the gunnysacks from his saddle and Alkali threw a coil of rope over his shoulder.

“It may not be easy to find Catapult,” Connie whispered. “This is a big meadow.”

“Yeah,” Alkali added, “he’s apt to be roostin’ in any one of these thousand acres.”

“I figure Catapult will be parked by the lake for the night after this blisterin’ hot day,” said Lefty. “That old uncanned baloney has more sense than his owner.”

After a brisk walk the three approached the lake. From that point they moved cautiously, crawling forward until they reached the bank. Lefty pulled aside a clump of overhanging tree branches and looked out over the moonlit water. A dark blot appeared at the opposite end of the lake and Lefty’s excited fancy envisioned it as a life-sized steer.

“It’s Catapult, Alkali, sure as you’re a cow nurse!” he muttered. “He’s standin’ in up to his belly, a-swishin’ flies with his tail.”

The three conspirators crept slowly around the little lake to the rear of the place where Catapult’s presence was suspected.

“It’s him!” exclaimed Lefty. “Get your rope ready, Alkali, and if you nail him, tie the other end to this here tree. Then I’ll wade out and shoo him in.”

The rope swished through the air and landed fairly around the big steer’s head. Lefty waded out toward the frightened animal, circling around him and splashing water with his cupped hands. Connie watched anxiously because she was afraid that Catapult might turn upon the cowboy and gore him with his sharp horns. But instead. Catapult bolted headlong for shore.

“Keep him circlin’ ’round the tree,” Lefty called to Alkali as he followed the steer ashore.

The two cowboys drove Catapult around and around the tree until his head banged into it. Then they roped his front and hind legs together. Catapult fell to the ground and rolled over on his side.

“Now come on with them gunnysacks,” Lefty said exaultantly.

Alkali chuckled as he helped his friend bind the pads on the steer’s feet.

“Guess we better bring up our hosses before we untie this here bovine,” he chuckled. “He’d make us feel like a tail to a kite a hoofin’ it.”

Alkali disappeared into the darkness and soon returned, riding his own horse and leading the other two.

“Pass me that rope, Lefty,” he directed. “Then you can untie him.”

The frightened steer arose to his feet with a snort. He eyed his tormentors for a moment and then bolted. Alkali’s horse braced and Catapult was brought up sharply.

“He’ll soon wear out them gunnysacks at this rate,” Lefty lamented. “We’ve got to quiet him down.”

“Get a rope on him too if you can,” Alkali advised. “Move up ahead. I’ll stay behind. Then when he makes a pass at you, I’ll hold him, and when he lays back you yank him right along with you.”

Lefty’s rope swished through the air and settled neatly over Catapult’s thick neck. Then riding ahead, with Alkali’s rope leading to the rear, the two cowboys began their task of leading Catapult from the meadow.

Connie found it hard to control her laughter. The steer presented such a ludicrous spectacle even in the uncertain moonlight, thumbing along the trail shod in gunnysacks. At times he would stop as if trying to fathom the strange method of torment. Then Lefty’s rope would become taut and pull him along. Again he would take a lunge forward in a brave effort to escape but Alkali’s rope would stiffen and bring him up short.

They emerged from the mountain meadow and turned to the main road. Connie breathed a sigh of relief.

And just at that moment Catapult stopped and whiffed the night air. Then he gave voice to the loudest and longest bellow in his system.

“If Pop hears that we’re sunk,” groaned Lefty.

A light flickered in the ranch house.

“He heard it all right,” muttered Alkali.

“Now what are we going to do?” asked Connie nervously. “You always have such brilliant ideas. Lefty! Think of something quick!”