Jones threw all the weight of his burly form on the lariat, and Baldy crashed to the ground, rolled, tussled, screamed, and then lay on his back, kicking the air with three free legs.

"Hold this," ordered Jones, giving the tight rope to Frank.

Whereupon he grabbed my lasso from the saddle, roped Baldy's two forefeet, and pulled him down on his side.
This lasso he fastened to a scrub cedar.
"He's chokin'!" said Frank.
"Likely he is," replied Jones shortly.

"It'll do him good." But with his big hands he drew the coil loose and slipped it down over Baldy's nose, where he tightened it again.
"Now, go ahead," he said, taking the rope from Frank.
It had all been done in a twinkling.

Baldy lay there groaning and helpless, and when Frank once again took hold of the wicked leg, he was almost passive.