Part 33 (2/2)

”Steady, Pink-eye. We don't want to hurt him,” he cautioned, slowing the animal down to almost a walk.

”Are you on your feet back there?”

”Y-y-y-yes.”

There came a sharp jerk on the line. The boy knew that the man he had roped, pinioning his arms to his side had managed to get his hands up and grasped the line. In a moment he would free himself.

Tad pressed the rowels of his spurs against Pink-eye's sides. The animal sprang forward, but the boy quickly checked him, pulling him down into a jog trot that was not beyond the endurance of a man to follow for a short distance.

”Remember if you allow yourself to fall down I'll drag you the rest of the way in,” warned Tad Butler. ”I won't hurt you if you behave yourself.”

”Le--le--let me go. I--I--I--I--aint't done n-n-nothing.”

”We'll decide that when I get you back to camp,” answered Tad. ”And don't let me hear you raising your voice again or I'll put spurs to the pony. Do you understand?”

”Y-y-y-e-s.”

On the soft ground the footfalls of the pony made no sound that could be heard any distance away. On ahead of him the lad saw the dim light of a lantern, which he knew was at the camp and his heart leaped exultantly at the thought of what he had accomplished. He wondered if the others or any of them had done as well.

”Won't Mr. Simms be surprised?” he glowed.

”Wait, I--I--I'm going to drop,” came a voice from behind him. It sounded far away and indistinct.

”You'd better not unless you want to go the rest of the way lying on your back,” called back the lad. However, he slackened the speed of his pony a little, thinking that perhaps his prisoner might be in distress. Tad was too tender hearted to cause another to suffer, even if it were an enemy.

The lad kept his left hand on the rope. In this way he was able to judge how well the man was following. Now and then a violent jerk told Tad that he was experimenting to see if he could not get away. The fellow might have braced his feet and possibly snapped the line, but he evidently feared to do this lest he be thrown on his face and dragged that way, for the noose of the lariat had, by this time, so tightened about his body as to bind his arms tightly to his side.

Tad uttered a warning whistle.

Instantly he noted figures moving about the camp. His call had been heard. The camp-fire was stirred to give more light, and as its embers flared up, Tad Butler and his prisoner galloped in.

At first they did not observe that he had a man in tow.

Old Hicks hobbled forward with a growl and a demand to know what the row was about.

”What is it, boy? What is it? Are they coming!” exclaimed Mr. Simms, running toward him.

”I've got a man. I can't stop. Grab him!” cried Tad in an excited, triumphant tone.

Mr. Simms saw. The others observed at the same time. They made a concerted rush for the lad's prisoner.

”Stop!” commanded the rancher.

Tad drew up instantly. As he did so three of them grabbed the man at the other end of the lariat, throwing him on the ground flat on his back.

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