Part 44 (2/2)

Turning, the oiler saw the Indian, with his own and one of the other ponies, storming across the ground in pursuit of the runner. Silently they watched.

As he heard the pounding hoofs behind him, the fleeing cowboy glanced about, and set on at greater speed than ever. Quickly, however, the horses cut down the distance between them.

The Indian leaned toward the second pony, took something from the saddle-horn, and began to adjust it on his arm.

”He's going to la.s.soo him!” said Alex breathlessly.

Nearer drew the Indian to the fleeing man, and hand and la.s.soo went into the air and began to weave circles. Tensely the two on the embankment watched.

Closer the horses drew. Wider the circle of the la.s.soo extended.

Suddenly it leaped through the air like a great snake. The runner saw the shadow of it, and with a cry that they heard, half turned and threw out his arms to ward it off. The loop was too large, the cowman missed it, and as the Indian pulled up in a cloud of dust, he whipped in the slack, and the noose tightened fairly about the renegade's waist. An instant after, however, the second pony, plunging ahead of the Indian's, threw the rider forward, slackening the lariat. In a twinkle the cowman had loosened the noose, and was wriggling out of it. He had freed one foot before the Indian had recovered himself. Then with a terrific yank the horseman snapped in the slack, the cowman's feet flew from under him, and with one foot taut in the air, caught at the ankle, he lay cursing and shaking an impotent fist.

As Alex and the oiler ran forward the Indian sat on his horse like a statue, holding the lariat taut.

The oiler reached the prisoner first, revolver in hand.

”Get up, you!” he ordered. Sullenly the man obeyed. Removing a handkerchief from about his neck, the oiler gave it to Alex, who securely bound the man's hands behind him. Throwing off the la.s.soo, they turned toward the Indian. With some wonder, they saw he was carefully examining the hoofs of the pony he was leading. Concluding the inspection with a grunt, he came forward, winding up the rope, and halted before them.

”You hoss?” he asked of the prisoner, pointing over his shoulder.

The cowboy looked at him contemptuously, and responded, ”Well, what if it is, Old Ugly-Mug?”

The oiler brought up the pistol. ”I don't know why he wants to know, but you go ahead and tell him!” he ordered threateningly. ”He's twice the man you are. Is it your horse?”

”Yes.”

Little Hawk turned away with a grunt of satisfaction, and mounting his pony, rode off towards the junction.

What the Indian meant Alex learned when, with their prisoner between them, he and the oiler approached the boarding-train, and met Little Hawk returning with Superintendent Finnan.

”That him!” said the Indian briefly as they drew near. ”Him burn cars!”

From the prisoner came a hissing gasp. As Alex turned upon him with a sharp e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n of understanding, however, the man a.s.sumed an indifferent air, and strode on nonchalantly.

”What do you want?” he demanded insolently of the superintendent. ”Can't a man pull off a--a little joke without these idiots of yours going out of their heads? It was nothing more than a bit of fun me and my mate was having,” he affirmed boldly.

Superintendent Finnan smiled sardonically. ”That is what the K. & Z. call it, eh?”

Alex, still with a hand on the prisoner's arm, felt him start. But brazenly the man replied, ”K. & Z.? What's the K. & Z.? A ranch brand? I never heard of it.”

On a thought Alex stepped forward and whispered a word in the official's ear.

”Go ahead,” said the superintendent.

”I'm going to search your pockets,” Alex announced, stepping back to the side of the renegade cowman. ”No objection, I suppose, since you don't know what K. & Z. means?”

”Search ahead,” agreed the prisoner, half smiling. ”And good luck to you if you find anything to connect me--if you find anything,” he corrected quickly.

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