When the brute came to the arena's end, and saw before him the shouting
multitude, it suddenly swerved to come back, and Ted realized that
something had happened to the saddle. It was slipping, and yet he was
sure he had cinched it tight. Back they came tearing again, and passed
Stella and Bud like a rocket.
"Great guns!" cried Bud, "his saddle's loose. He's a goner now, shore."
Every one saw Ted's danger, for Ted was leaning well over, and the
saddle was on the horse's side. A hollow groan went up.
At Bud's first words Stella was off after Ted like a shot.
The horse, as every one could now see, was trying its best to kill Ted,
and many of the spectators were positive that it would do so.
Now the cinch had parted.
"The cinch has broken," the shout went up. "It will kill him, sure!" Ted
was now leaning far over on the horse's side, his left leg well under
the horse's belly and his foot in the stirrup, while the heel of his
left, boot was clinging to the edge of the tipped saddle. It was a most
precarious position, for if the saddle slipped farther he would go under
and be trampled and kicked to death before any one could reach him.
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